Chapter 24: Anne's Demand
At dinner that night, Aunt Catherine commanded, "Tell me Darcy, how the outing to gather flowers went today."
I demurred, "I had little to do with that besides guard the ladies. You should ask Georgiana and Anne."
Lady Catherine fixed her eyes upon Georgiana (who was sitting beside Anne, a position she had never occupied before). Georgiana replied, "Oh, it was a grand success." She happily described all the specimens they had discovered and identified by looking at prints of drawings in a book they found in the Rosings library, adding, "Anne was especially pleased to find some purple flowers."
Lady Catherine turned to Anne and for the first time I can recall addressed her directly across the table while we dined. "Anne, what did you like about the purple flowers?" Her voice was gentler, slower and more soothing than was her usual wont.
Anne said nothing and then Lady Catherine moved on to other topics with the rest of us. Twenty minutes or more must have elapsed before Anne spoke her response. "Purple is for royalty."
"What is that, Anne?" Her mother asked, her eyebrows drawn together in what might be confusion.
"Purple is for royalty." Anne repeated. I knew immediately she was responding to her mother's earlier question and I thought that Georgiana understood that, too, but it seemed that we were the only ones to comprehend.
"Yes," Georgiana responded, turning toward Anne and smiling encouragingly at her. She also gave Anne a very tentative pat on the arm. "The purple flowers Anne found are of the color typically reserved for royalty. I dare say we all felt like royalty finding such beautiful flowers and so nearby."
"Which flowers did you find, Anne?" Again, the tone and way Lady Catherine spoke was far gentler than the way she usually spoke. This time she waited and we all did as well, though Georgiana and I were careful to only look at Anne indirectly. We did not want to discourage her from speaking with the intensity of our glances.
Perhaps it was only five minutes this time until Anne spoke. "Purple orchids and purple violets."
"I see," Lady Catherine responded. I wondered if she did see, that the orchids could only be found in the woods.
I recalled how we had all walked very, very slowly, Anne clutching Georgiana's and my arms, Mrs. Jenkinson remaining with the carriage. Anne's slippers had grown very dirty, but she did not seem aware, her eyes carefully scanning the ground and trees around us even as her breath grew louder and I grew concerned that perhaps it was too much strain.
When Anne had first appeared in her slippers that morning, Georgiana asked Anne, "Do you have any shoes that would be better for a walk?"
Anne made no response, so Georgiana asked the same of Mrs. Jenkinson, who responded, "She does not, Lady Catherine has seen no need for them." I suppose it made sense; an invalid had no need of walking shoes.
"I should like to see your flowers," Lady Catherine commented to Anne, "mayhap during our separation later."
Anne gave a slight nod and Lady Catherine responded with a broad smile, a smile that had she seen it on another's face she would have called indecorous. I had never seen such a smile on her face before. As for me, I could not help but smile in response, and saw that the rest of my dining companions had a similar reaction.
In the days that followed I continued to court Miss Elizabeth each morning and my sister continued to try to encourage Anne's independence. Each of us were making progress in our tasks.
I noticed that Anne was different now, or at least different than I had ever seen her before. She seemed to take more of an interest in the things beyond Rosings. Therefore, I was not so surprised at our next dinner when Anne spoke again.
I saw the whole sequence of events. Before we even came into dinner, Georgiana whispered something to Anne, who shook her head "no." I moved a little closer and caught the end of Georgiana's response, "When you are ready, then."
Dinner proceeded in the usual manner, Lady Catherine questioning Edwin, Georgiana and me, and largely ignoring the others. It was almost the end of the second remove when Anne asked Georgiana, "Now?"
Georgiana said quietly, I could barely hear her, "Certainly. It never hurts to ask."
Just then, Lady Catherine must have noticed their exchange, "Georgiana, what are you talking of with Anne? I must have my share of the conversation when she is willing to talk."
Anne decidedly turned her head and body away from her mother and tilted herself toward Georgiana. I suspected I knew what was bothering her, Lady Catherine was speaking loudly and determinedly. I saw Georgiana lay a hand upon Anne. Georgiana responded, "When Anne is ready, I am sure she will tell you what she is thinking about."
Lady Catherine made a loud harrumph, but then fell silent.
It was when we were enjoying some tarts made with preserves when Anne finally spoke, unprompted. She announced while looking at no one in particular, "I want to see some of the places the Tudors saw."
We waited and she said nothing more, so Georgiana supplied: "We have been investigating places that would be significant to the Tudors here in Kent. The Rosings library has many volumes on their history. Anne has expressed interest in taking a carriage for an outing to nearby locations after Easter."
"I fear that is impossible," Lady Catherine addressed Georgiana, "and I do think ill of you for putting such an idea in her head. Anne cannot go afar; her condition is much too delicate."
"We will take every precaution," Georgiana responded. I knew that Anne had fared well enough when looking for flowers, but I hardly wished to explain to my aunt that we had already tested Anne's endurance and suspected it sufficient to the task if she were given sufficient assistance.
I think I was the only one observing Anne as this discussion took place determining her fate without her. I saw her look straight at her mother and say, "I will go." And then before her mother could even respond: "I will go, I will go, I will go!" She screamed out, her anger surprising us all.
We were all shocked into silence, but soon enough I realized I should not have been. Although Anne typically seems to be turned inward in some contemplation that none of us can guess at, I certainly had my share of outbursts, especially as I child.
I could not but remember some terrible tantrums I had when I was not understood or when something was unexpectedly altered. I remembered shouting out, over and over, "No saddle!" All that had happened was my father had bought a new saddle for my pony because the old one was too worn. It was supposed to be a present for me as I had been doing well with my riding lessons. I screamed that phrase over and over as I loosened the new saddle from my pony and flung it off. I then ran into the stable and began rummaging through everything I could find, both looking for the old saddle and expressing my rage by throwing everything that was not my saddle as hard as I could.
I remember being scared of all my strong emotions that I could not control and raging, raging all the more when my father was summoned from his work and instructed the servants to hold me tight. I was beyond all words then, screaming and spitting like a wild animal caught in a trap. I do not like to think about what happened after that.
The next day I did not even go to the stable. The following day, after much cajoling from my mother, I went to the stable, saying the whole time, "No saddle, no saddle, no saddle."
However, I was silenced when I saw that my old saddle was back. I ran my hands over it, where it was perched. The brown leather was soft and smooth in most places, but there was a rough place where it was scratched and a thinner patch where the leather was starting to wear through and lighten in color. Although my fingers could not feel the difference, there were stains as well. I had been seeing my saddle every day but had not particularly noticed how it had gradually gotten worn.
However, I was still so angry even being reminded that it had once been gone that I did not go for a ride that day. I rode the next day but as I rode it came to me that my saddle was shabby, that perhaps the new saddle was not such a problem as it had seemed before. That evening when I saw my mother I asked, "New saddle?"
She asked, "Fitz, do you want your new saddle back?"
I responded, "See."
In the morning when I was taken to the stable, I saw both saddles laid out on a plaid woolen blanket outside my horse's stall. I walked round and round them, examining them from every angle, pausing now and then to touch them, to compare. Even though my resentment, it was clear to see that the new saddle was superior to the old in every way.
"This saddle," I said, patting the new saddle. A groom took it and saddled my horse. I rode upon the new saddle and scarcely noticed the difference.
I remembered another time when I was older and had more words and my mother was trying to replace my favorite coat which I had outgrown with another that was not the same. She had tried to prepare me: "Fitzwilliam, your coat is too small, and you need to wear another one when we visit the de Bourghs for Easter. Do you remember when you were measured? Two new coats have been made for you."
Mother showed them to me, and I ran my hands along the cloth. The texture on them was different but I liked the feel of them well enough, at least while those coats were just something to touch. I remember not being too upset, because she was not trying to make me wear a new one then.
However, when it was time to leave and my servant tried to place a new coat upon me, I crossed my arms and refused to slip them through the sleeves and shook the new coat off. He asked, "Do I need to get your father?"
I shook my head "no" while keeping my arms firmly crossed.
"Your mother?" he asked. I said nothing and just stood there. I wanted neither of them, but of the two my mother was least objectionable. While I was left alone, I managed to slip into my favorite old coat.
"Fitzwilliam," said my mother when she arrived, slightly flushed, "what is this that I am hearing about you not wearing your new coat. We talked about this already." She retrieved the fallen coat and told me, "Take off that old coat, right now."
I argued: "It is my coat, Mother. I do not need a new one. It is up to me to decide. Leave me alone, woman. My decision, a man decides. Me. Leave me alone. It is mine, my coat, mine." I wanted to rip the hated garments she was holding out to me but I resisted and told her so. "I want to rip them but I will not, men do not rip things. Why are you doing this to me?"
"You are angry, Fitzwilliam. It is alright to be angry. I do not understand why this makes you angry. You may keep your coat but you cannot wear it to Lady Catherine's home. You must be properly dressed as your father's heir."
I could not explain, I kept trying to use my words to keep her from doing what was wrong to me. I used my words and not my fists, but my words were angry and I loudly stomped. My feet would not break anything. She was firm but spoke in soothing tones. She thanked me for not ripping the new coat or breaking things. She listened to all my rude words. Later she held out the two new coats and asked me to choose which one I wanted to wear.
It took me hours to accept a new coat, but it was easier somehow when I was picking between the two. Then later when I finally tried on the coat I had selected, a fine navy blue coat which reached beyond my wrists and was looser across my chest, I realized it was not a bad coat. I could wear this coat. I did not need my old coat.
I wondered if this Anne before me would be more like my much younger self, taking out my rage on things, or more like I was when an older youth, able to restrain herself to angry words. Anne shouted once again: "I will go, Anne decides!" I think she did not want to be ignored by her mother. As far as I knew she had always been passive before, letting her mother make all decisions.
I understood then that Georgiana had unwittingly engaged in an act of rebellion against Lady Catherine by encouraging Anne's independence, making her believe she could go someplace on her own inclination, without that someplace being a definite place that my aunt could control. It was a risk to have Anne go and explore where others outside her small circle might observe how she was different and maybe even try to talk to her. As long as she was on the estate or sitting in her phaeton constricted by her companion and quiet, dumb, no one would know she was anything but a sedate sickly heiress. But now Anne had a desire for something beyond the estate and she was challenging the authority of her mother to get it.
I was not sure if anyone else knew that Anne was fighting for her freedom, to be allowed to seek out things for herself. To be sure she knew far less of the world than a woman of her age should, but did that mean she should remain confined forever?
I thought of how much I was tormented at school; and what happened once I left Hertfordshire. I had no wish for Anne to suffer similarly. But still, we could protect her somewhat if we were also present.
The anger I heard in Anne I well recognized. I was still undecided as to whether angry words would be enough for her, as I did not recall seeing her rage before. Would she start throwing things as I had when I first saw the new saddle? She was of age but had never made decisions like other young ladies, acted like someone much younger than her age.
"Anne, you know not what you ask for," Edwin interjected. "Your mother wishes to keep you safe. You must remain at Rosings!""
"No, no, no!" Anne yelled and I saw her face go red. She grabbed her plate which bore two tarts and threw one and then the other at Edwin. He managed to lean out of the way of the first, which hit the wall and slid down it, leaving a small sticky red mark on the wallpaper, but the second caught him across the breast, the reddish jam exploding across him as if he had been bayonetted. He said nothing, simply swiped at the offending mark with his napkin, further grinding it into his light-colored coat.
But I hardly had time to observe this, as then Anne crashed her porcelain plate upon the floor. I could not see it fall, but I heard it make an impressive clatter as it shattered.
Anne began reaching for Georgiana's plate but I was already gesturing for it and Georgiana had the presence of mind to hand it across the table to me. However, Anne simply changed course and reached for Mrs. Jenkinson's plate, placing a hand upon it at the same time as the woman herself. Each of them tugged, but Anne was the more tenacious and she pulled on it so hard that she elbowed Georgiana in the process before crashing it down, also.
While this was occurring, Lady Catherine was gesturing to her footmen (dressed in a dark blue this week) and they began collecting the plates and the serving platters, taking one plate from Mrs. Annesley before she had even taken a bite of her tart. However, they were not quick enough to collect all the goblets and Anne managed to throw two of them and then several pieces of cutlery.
I was glad there were no sharp knives on the table as Anne threw one fork with enough force to make it impale a curtain to the wall. Although we were all busy ducking, I was expecting Lady Catherine to do something to have Anne restrained as my father would have done had it been me, but she seemed to be doing nothing other than trying to have her footmen take away Anne's weapons. The footmen, Lady Catherine and Mrs. Jenkinson did not seem surprised by Anne's actions, but Georgiana fled her seat by Anne to take refuge by my side and I led her to the far corner of the room to wait it out.
After a while there was not much left to break or throw, so Anne stood up and overturned her chair. She then leaned heavily on the table, breathing hard. No one spoke.
I noticed Anne gradually calming. A footman righted her chair and Anne sat down. I slowly led Georgiana to the table but sat her at my seat while I went to sit next to Anne in Georgiana's former seat.
"Are you well, Anne?" I asked after I gingerly seated myself.
Anne did not answer me directly but began muttering to herself over and over, "Anne go, Anne go. Will go, will go."
I noticed then, that rather than looking at Anne, Lady Catherine was glaring at Edwin. He noticed and shrugged but said nothing. Lady Catherine then turned to Anne and addressed her in that same, soft soothing voice as before. "You will go, Anne. We will plan a trip and I will accompany you. We will have to stay in inns and go in stages, but we shall all go together after Easter."
Even after Lady Catherine had conceded, Anne kept muttering to herself.
The plate of tarts was brought back, one footman holding the plate, another placing a napkin down before each of us and then the third used tongs to set a tart down on each napkin rather than on a fine plate. I noticed that each of the napkins serving as a plate was fraying and yellowing with age.
Anne ate her tart in two large bites and then licked the jam from her fingers. However, the look in her eyes made me wary that she might rage again at the slightest provocation.
After dinner, Georgiana excused herself, saying, "Lady Catherine, I am quite tired. I hope you will not mind if I take myself to bed."
"Not at all, dear child," Lady Catherine responded, her eyes lingering on Georgiana, "rest well."
I did not believe Georgiana's excuse and, so, said, "I shall escort you up to your room and return soon." Unlike Georgiana, I asked no one's permission.
As soon as we were out of sight, Georgiana slumped against me. I could feel her trembling and I quickly placed an arm around her. "Oh, Brother, that scared me so!" She nestled against me and even as I worried about her, I felt glad that she was taking comfort from me, that I had her trust.
"It is over now," I told her.
"Is it? Or shall it happen again at any time?" Her voice sounded like she might be about to cry. She told me, "I remember you similarly raging when I was yet a young child, but it has been so long that I almost forgot." She drew back a little and looked up at me. "Brother, I know you would never hurt me, but I was not sure Anne would not."
As I tried to reassure my dear sister, I wondered if I had made a mistake in encouraging her to become closer to Anne. "I would never let her harm you, but I doubt Anne had any wish to hurt anyone. I had to learn how to control myself and she can as well. Please try to be strong. I hope you will not give up on her."
"Likely I shall be ready to try with her again tomorrow, but now I will be more wary. It is clear she needs help and I want to do what I can."
We continued onto her room and I left Georgiana after giving her a kiss upon her forehead as I had when she was a little girl.
When I returned to the salon, Lady Catherine demanded, "Darcy, escort me to the library. I need your help with something."
I wondered if this was an excuse. What could I really help her with that a servant could not?
When we reached the library, she bid me sit on a sofa by the fire and then walked back in front of the fire quickly, back and forth, back and forth. In looking straight ahead I watched as the orange and yellow flames flickered in and out of view as she passed before the hearth in her light blue gown.
"What is it Lady Catherine?" I asked, when I grew tired of seeing her pacing.
"I hope that Georgiana is well," she told me, pausing directly in front of the fire and blocking it fully from my view.
"As well as can be expected after observing Anne's shocking display." I responded, candidly. "However, she does not plan to curtail her association with Anne. I have hope that no long-term damage has been done to their relationship."
"Anne is Anne," my aunt responded. "When you see Anne acting like that, I can imagine you well think poorly of both her and me. Perhaps you now understand now why I do not encourage her to go out into the world much. Can you imagine if she reacted that way in London at the Earl's home while they were entertaining guests?"
She gave me no opportunity to answer instead answering herself. "It is not to be borne! Still, you understand her better than most of the rest of us ever will. Doubtless you would know what best could be done to contain her. If I am fortunate, Anne will forget all about her little adventure before Easter comes. We do well enough for her at Rosings where everyone is familiar with how she is. Can you not tell your sister to find other hobbies for her that will keep Anne safe at home? Knitting perhaps as your mother did?"
"Georgiana does not knit," I explained.
"Well it would be rather gauche for her to knit, but surely Georgiana can introduce her to some other womanly art that is only done in the home. Please talk to her about it."
I nodded, not because I really planned to do it, but because my aunt was staring at me and I wanted to get her to break her stare. It worked and I thought for a moment that she might be done.
But then Lady Catherine walked closer to me and I saw that her eyes were glistening. She leaned over and toward me, grasping me by both shoulders and leaning in until her face was a mere handspan away. I found it very disconcerting but there was only so much room for me to lean back. I could both feel and smell her breath. It was warm and slightly sour.
Her voice cracked a little and became higher in pitch when she said, "Darcy, can you not see how much Anne needs the both of you?" She swallowed and I was drawn to seeing her neck move with that swallow before I looked back up at her eyes, surrounded by drooping skin.
"Before I am gone Anne must marry or she will come under the Earl's thumb and God help me I do not trust my brother with my daughter. But can you imagine what might happen if Anne married someone other than you? If she acted as she did today, he would be well within his rights to commit her to an asylum, but that would kill her. She needs protection, she needs caring, by people who understand. I do not know who that would be if not you."
I slid to the side and stood up. Now I was looking down at her. I told her, "I am sorry," and I truly was sorry even while I was resolute, "but I will not marry Anne."
