Sorry Folks, had a few edits to do. For some reason it wouldn't let me just update/replace the chapter so had to delete and replace. Apologies! Yas
Chapter 10:
"Where are my nephew's!" Lady Catherine cried thudding her walking stick with furious impatience against the carpeted floor. "Upon my honour I have been used most inexcusably. We shall not dine till midnight at this rate, it is entirely unacceptable. What must the staff think. Hughes! Do go and look for Darcy and Fitzwilliam again; take anyone you wish with you, make haste!"
In an attempt to sooth her mother, Anne said, "I am sure the gentlemen have simply lost track of time, perhaps a business matter of some sort has arisen. I am confident they will not feel in the least slighted if we were to go into dinner without them."
"Anne," her mother replied curtly; "when I want your opinion I shall ask for it." She sat back against the cushions of her chair, tapping the handle of the walking stick with agitation. A clear visual cue of her building frustration. "Well?" She demanded, looking directly at Anne, "where can they be?"
"Mother as I have already said," Anne replied in her calmly; "I am sure they have simply had to deal with an urgent matter and have unfortunately lost track of time."
"An urgent matter," her mother sneered. "What can be more urgent than gracing my table at the appropriate hour. Really Anne you do have the most ridiculous of notions." She turned to Mrs Collins and continued: "never believe the suggestion that a daughter will bring a mother comfort; it is indeed not God's intention to bestow one with a lifelong confidant and companion."
Anne lowered her gaze, worrying her hands in her lap. She hoped Darcy would return from the parsonage in due course to put an end to this ridiculous behaviour from her mother. However, she could not blame him for hoping to keep Elizabeth to himself for as long as possible. It could not have been a more perfect opportunity. For Elizabeth to remain home alone, when the rest of the household dined at Rosings, well this was a golden opportunity. She was certain, knowing Darcy as she did, he would make Elizabeth an offer. She was fully aware that Darcy's earlier silly proposal of marriage was no more than the result of fear. A fear derived from not doing exactly what was expected of him. The Darcy bloodline was long, prestigious and impressive. Bring into that a maternal link to the titled Fitzwilliam lineage with the mantra of 'duty above all;' meant expectations on the heir of Pemberley were high indeed. Although Anne thought Elizabeth utterly charming; she knew it would be a difficult transition to become the wife of someone of such high society and social standing. Although a gentleman's daughter, Elizabeth was, for all intents and purposes, an unknown. Their union would be the main topic of conversation in every gossip column; a great source of speculation in every fashionable parlour. Poor Darcy and Elizabeth thought Anne with compassion. Anne was more than certain that Elizabeth's wit and vivacious personality would be more than capable of deflecting the vicious tongues of the ton. She was certain Elizabeth above anyone would be a match for those scathing society mothers of yet unmarried daughters. The knowledge that sweet, timid Georgiana would have such a strong minded sister brought Anne much pleasure. A small smile escaped the corners of Anne's mouth; Elizabeth will make Darcy the perfect wife. All that life, sharp intellect and humour could only have a positive outcome on her occasionally rather officious cousin.
"And pray what are you smirking at?" asked Lady Catherine accusingly. "Do you think this situation a good joke? Well my dear, I am an excellent judge of comical antidotes and this is not one of them! Need I remind you, you are no better than anyone. An obstinate head strong girl, I am ashamed of you. Need I remind everyone present of your lack of daughterly duty; leaving me for the pursuit of your own amusement. Oh no my girl, your selfishness runs deep and shall not be forgotten. Upon my honour if only I had a son, a true gentleman he would be."
She scanned the room to witness the full effect of her words on those around her. "Mr Collins," she said, turning to the eager clergyman by her side; "I think it best you escort me into the dining hall before I lose all sense of appetite. You would not be so unfeeling as to disregard my schedule thus." Mr Collins, his face a beaming beacon of smug delight, offered his arm to his patroness, leading her from the sitting area to the adjoining dining room.
Charlotte caught Anne's eye and gave her a weak smile. She and Maria stood, awaiting to follow behind Anne and the departing Lady Catherine. Anne swallowed hard and stood, smoothing down the creases of her skirt. Where was Richard when she needed him? Although there was an unspoken tension between him and Anne; when in the company of others his jolly nature could not but help be on display. His masterful skills at sharing antidotes; his overly animated conversation, it would be most appreciated right now. He was exceedingly skilled at dominating all conversations and, to everyone's delight, her mother was always utterly charmed by him. She was always in the best of moods during these exchanges.
Dinner was a most unpleasant affair. Lady Catherine loudly, repeatedly and most dramatically told of her disappointment and disapproval of her nephew's lack of consideration. Every dish on the table was found to be flawed. Even Miss Elizabeth was cast down repeatedly for her inconsiderate lapse of poor health. "It is all most vexing!" Her mother cried to a most apologetic Mr Collins. Even Charlotte seemed to hang on Lady Catherine's every word; nodding at every right occasion and agreeing when the opportunity arose. Poor, shy Maria sat in silence; her distress in being surrounded by such aggravated conversation clearly taking its toll on her countenance. Anne, wounded by her mother's earlier sharp tongue, simply sat. Looking down, she moved food around her plate. She did not dare lift her gaze to meet the wrath of her mother's temper. Her mother had always been this way. When displeased her tongue could be most vicious. She was embarrassed and pained by how her mother spoke to her; but what made the situation worse was when it was done in front of an audience. She had little respect for Mr Collins; but Charlotte and Maria, she could only hope the ladies kept the unsavoury display to themselves. Anne would hate to be the focus of gossip. She was glad Elizabeth was not present to see such a display; for she was already certain the lady did not look upon her mother with a favourable disposition.
After retiring to the drawing room for an appropriate period of time; which involved several short readings from Mr Collins, Anne managed to excuse herself. She apologised to their guests, using the excuse of a sore head as reason for her early departure. Her mother said nothing. Anne left the room slowly, taking great care to kept her shoulders back and chin high until through the safety of the doorway. She stood in the privacy of the hall, letting her shoulders slouch. Once at the foot of the grand marble staircase, she took the steps two at a time and all but ran along the landing to the sanctuary of her rooms. Once inside, Anne could no longer hold back the tears; and with a mix of shame and irritation let them fall freely. At that moment her personal maid, Hennie, appeared through the servant's entrance and as quietly as a mouse. The girl had arrived ready to help Anne undress for the evening. However upon seeing Anne so distressed, did not know what to do.
"Oh Miss," said the young girl coming closer to her mistress, but leaving an appropriate distance between the two. "Whatever is the matter, what can I do?" Hennie felt utterly torn. Although it was not proper, she had an overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort her mistress. Hennie had been at Rosings Park for nearly two years and during that time Lady Catherine filled her with terror. She had been most nervous at the prospect of being the private maid to the future mistress of Rosings Park on her return from Scotland. Hennie had been filled with dread imagining the sort of proud lady the daughter of Lady Catherine would be. Although other house staff, who had known Anne since childhood, spoke of her fondly and with great affection; Hennie could not believe such a description until meeting Anne for herself. The contrast in personalities between her and the mother were unmeasurable.
"I am sorry Hennie, I did not mean to alarm you, I thought myself alone," Anne replied wiping her tear streaked cheek with the back of her hand. "You must think me the most pathetic creature."
As Anne tried to compose herself, she could not but help a shuddering sob escape her lips. Before Anne realised what was happening she felt arms about her as Hennie attempted to sooth her with, what Anne could only imagine, a sisterly like embrace. This sweet action only made Anne's tears fall with more abandon and she buried her face in the shoulder of the young girl for several minutes.
Although several years younger than her mistress, Hennie stood several inches taller. She stroked Anne's dark chestnut hair until the sobbing reached an end.
"There now, Miss," said Hennie softly stepping back from Anne. "My mother used to say to me and me sisters that things always feel less worrisome after a good cry. Is there anything I can get for you?"
Anne reached out and took the young girl's hand. "Thank you, I shall be fine. I am sorry if I alarmed you, all is well I assure you." Anne tried to give the girl her most reassuring smile before asking; "perhaps you could help me let down my hair before leaving. I can undress myself this evening if you would undo the first few fastenings?" The young maid simply squeezed Anne's hand in response before taking her place behind Anne at the vanity. Once Anne was seated Hennie began to remove the multitude of pins hidden within Anne's thick dark locks, chatting about her day brightly in an attempt to engage her mistress. Several minutes later Anne found herself alone in the privacy of her room. She had told Hennie she would likely not rise until late the morrow and she would ring the bell for her when required. Anne sat on the settee still fully dressed, her hair a mass of cascading curls about her shoulders. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. How she missed the kindness and easy nature of her aunt Tilly. Anne was certain her mother loved her in her own way, but at moments like this, it was exceedingly hard to feel anything but unwanted. With her eyes closed she sat rerunning the conversations of the day through her head. It had been quite a day. She could only hope Darcy's evening had been a greater success. At least his happiness would be worth the misery his absence had created. Anne could only imagine the certain aftermath his intentions would bring once brought to her mother's attention.
Anne opened her eyes and for a brief moment did not know her location. Her neck ached she had fallen asleep on the settee. She was still fully dressed. It must be the early hours of the morning, she thought. She rose stretching her arms above her head to help alleviate the pain radiating down her shoulders. Suddenly her stomach let out the most undignified rumble. She had barely touched her evening meal and had eaten rather light earlier in the day. What to do she thought. Going to the window she pulled back the curtain to be met with pitch black. It was clearly a long while away from dawn. Her mother had a firm rule that all household servants have a minimum of five hours rest, meaning that during the wee small hours the house was all but empty. Anne had never understood this rule of her mothers. It was a firm, enforceable understanding amongst all servants, and those caught not obeying were given their marching orders. Anne often wondered if it was a tactful ploy on her mother's part to discourage mixing amongst the male and female staff.
She could be down to the kitchen and back within her room in no time at all. Nobody would be any the wiser of her actions. Her stomach let out another rumble. She had no desire to break her fast the morrow with her mother; and only the Lord could predict what may occur if the news of Darcy and his intended came to light. Taking a candle from the mantle above her fireplace Anne opened her bedroom door and listened to the silence of the corridor. The house slept as Anne made her way down the flights of stairs; along the western corridor and down the small set of stone flag steps which entered the front of the kitchen.
Anne had spent considerable time in the kitchen as a small child watching Mrs Allen and her kitchen staff create delightful dishes and baked goods. She had been known to leave the kitchens with the pockets of her day dress considerably bulging. Due to this, Anne knew exactly where in the kitchen she should look to find her late-night feast. Heading past the long, central, well-scrubbed wooden table; Anne went to one of the dressers along the far wall, placing her candle on the side. Here an assortment of ceramic jars and tins stood filled with baked goods; conserves, dried fruit and to her great delight upon lifting the lid of an elongated dish, cheese. She took what appeared to be a muffin from the tin and began by spooning a sticky drizzle of honey on top. She took a generous bite and instantly felt better after savouring its comforting sweetness. Thus engaged, Anne had no notion of the figure who watched her from the shadows of the doorway. The figure; hidden from the glow of her candle, watched her a moment longer before deciding to make their presence known.
"Rather late for the future mistress of the house to be skulking around below deck," Richard remarked as he leaned casually against the door frame. Anne jumped, dropping a piece of cheese from her hand as she turned quickly to find Richard staring back at her in the darkness. He stepped forward, walking to the far side of the table; the dim glow of Anne's candle bringing his feature into focus.
"Richard for heaven's sake," she exclaimed, "you frightened the life out of me."
"Ah, he slurred, "so you are but an apparition that I see?" Anne looked at him closely, had he been drinking? Where on earth had he been all evening? Perhaps he and Darcy had been celebrating his forth coming nuptials.
"Is Darcy with you?" Anne asked. Suddenly she became very aware how inappropriate this situation was. She was entirely alone in the middle of the night; below in the kitchen with her hair down. Alone with Richard.
"I am afraid I kept to my own company this evening, so sadly I have been unable to see or congratulate my most superior cousin on his most excellent choice of bride." Richard looked at Anne intently. If only the thought of her with Darcy did not make his chest ache so.
"Oh, so you have heard!" Anne said brightly. "I have not seen him since he left for the Parsonage."
"The parsonage," laughed Richard dryly. "Oh, Anne I am sure you can wait, not even the overly zealous Mr Collins can produce a special licence at such short notice. Also let's not be too hasty, what would the neighbours think?"
"Whatever do you mean?" asked Anne. She had no idea what Richard was referring to. She lifted the candle from the side to cast as much light on her shadowy companion as possible. His usual immaculate appearance was rather creased and dishevelled. His slightly too long light brown hair was a mass of unruly waves. "Whatever is the matter?" she asked. Anne suddenly felt a heavy weight in her stomach. Perhaps Richard DID care for Elizabeth after all. Perhaps this slightly drunken appearance had been brought on by a bout of self-pity due to Darcy and Elizabeth's courtship. "I am sorry if the news has caused you any pain," Anne said flatly; "I had not thought your feelings towards..."
"My feelings," interrupted Richard. "You are indeed clearly one who has little thought towards my feelings!" He almost spat the words at her. "For someone I once thought so kind; so generous, above all others, what a fool I was. I should have known such a woman was too good to be true. I should have known a creature's heart would not be so easily caught. You my dear, are no better than your mother, closed off and unfeeling!"
Anne stood; her mouth open in shock. She had never seen Richard like this, he was positively savage. The harshness of his words cut her to the core, though she could not understand him. She wanted to shout at him, to scream. How dare he speak to her of feelings when he had treated her so poorly. She opened her mouth in an attempt to retaliate but knew not what to say.
"I have long since learned," Richard spoke with feeling, his face hard; "that woman can be cold, calculating, heartless creatures. Even the most angelic of the female sex can be the undoing of a man. For who would love a mere soldier when the prospect of Pemberley was to be had."
Anne could not bear this any longer; her head was too full of confusion, her soul full of too much feeling. She headed for the doorway but, much quicker than she, Richard moved to block her exit.
"Move aside Richard," Anne said with determination. "I demand you to move aside." He stood tall, rooted to the spot his eyes locked on hers. "Richard, step aside or I shall scream and awaken the whole entire house." He stood, unflinching his cool grey eyes studying her face. Slowly, he turned his body sideways, allowing enough room for Anne to pass. As she went to march past him, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hard towards him, crushing her against his chest.
"Richard let go of me," she cried attempting to pull away from his grasp but it only made him hold her to him tighter. She looked up at him crossly. She fell silent and she stopped her struggle. His face was the Richard she had known so well. His expression had softened.
He was looked down at her intently, a deep look of longing passed over his face. "Why did you abandoned me Anne," he asked in barely a whisper, his hand still clasped around her wrist. "I offered you my heart; my soul, all my worldly possessions. Never did I once believe you capable of rejecting the honest love of a man in favour of a more prestigious position. That was not the Anne I knew. That was not the Anne I loved. To not even have the decency to see me; to leave me pleading at the mercy of your mother. How could you do that to me Anne?"
Anne's head began to pound. She felt faint, he believed it was she who abandoned him?
Her face crumpled. "Richard I..." She fell silent, the handle of the door to the left side of the kitchen was suddenly shuddering. The door swung open followed by a flurry of voices. The young farm hands entered with their large pails of milk from the adjacent courtyard. Richard keeping hold of Anne, practically half lifted her as he pulled her through the doorway and up the stairs out of sight. Once they reached the safety of the landing he simply let go of her hand and walked away from her with great speed in the direction of the guest wing. Anne in a state of complete and utter confusion merely stood and watched him leave. She felt nauseous, the splitting headache above her eye excruciating. She stumbled along the corridor, the early dawn light casting a grey gloom through the non-curtained hallways. She managed to make it to her privacy of her bedroom just in time. She had just reached the wash stand as the bile reached her throat. She stood heaving over the copper pan before sliding to the floor, dissolving into a flood of tears.