Anne wondered at Mrs Avery's visit. Oh, there had been many visitors since her arrival upon the square, however none had been so forward in their opinion as her fellow committee member. It seemed everyone in her acquaintance felt compelled to pay her a morning call. More to the point everyone wished to see the newly refurbished home on the fashionable Grosvenor Square. Anne was quite exhausted by the inconvenience, and only hoped once she had been settled a few more weeks, that the calls would slowly decrease. She felt as though she had barely had any time to enjoy being finally independent and on her own. Louisa was a frequent guest, and somehow Anne found her as an almost daily breakfast invitee. Anne had no idea how this kept happening, but somehow Louisa managed it most artfully. Georgiana was almost no better, and although Anne could not begrudge her sweet cousin's company, she still secretly wished to have some mornings simply on her own.
Anne liked Mrs Avery. Yet, she was rather too full of her own importance; which indeed was probably why the lady in question had felt such a need to bring her intended topic of discussion to Anne's attention. It would appear, if Mrs Avery was to believed, that the ton was all a flutter of talk over Anne's apparent forthcoming betrothal to a certain hon. Viscount Edward Colville of Arbuthnot. How ridiculous, Anne thought. Surely people were not such simpletons to assume that there was more to their relationship than a mutual friendship? She held Edward in the highest of regard, who could not. The gentleman was indeed without fault. But for people of the ton to believe he had focused his attentions on herself as his future bride was ridiculous. Such a man could have any woman he desired. He was not going to settle for someone so beneath him as herself. Ha, what a joke!
She had told Mrs Avery she was very much mistaken. That their acquaintance stemmed from a close intimacy from family connections. His attention to her person in public was merely no more than a result from his good nature. She was thankful to him, for she was still rather shy and uneasy navigating amongst London society.
Mrs Avery, although seemingly to accept such a rational reason for his apparent attentions, still felt compelled to warn Anne on her conduct with Lord Colville in public. She had stated most matter-of-factly; "my dear, you must take care, if for no other reason as to not isolate yourself from other eligible men. You will not mind me saying so as we are among friends, but you are not in the first flush of youth. I am certain your sudden appearance amongst the London set this season can be no mere coincidence at such an age. Mark my words girl, you shall be engaged by Michaelmas and happily situated by St Nicholas!"
Anne, still rather amused by such notions, merely nodded and agreed in all the right places, offering reassurance to the lady's concerns when required; growing more and more impatient for the visit to come to an end. Edward was expected to call later that day; he often called rather late when he was certain no more visitors would likely disturb their conversations. Often after such a call, he simply stayed for dinner, before heading to whichever engagement was on his agenda. On the evenings where he could not persuade Anne to join him in attendance to such engagements, he often would happily stay longer. How amused he shall be, thought Anne, when he hears we are such a topic of ton gossip and speculation.
At last free of callers, Anne wondered if she had time to call at her preferred milliner's on Regent Street before Edwards arrival. She had ordered a new veil for her favourite burgundy riding bonnet and she was certain they would have the item ready today. It would not matter if Edward arrived before she returned. Although Anne often read the morning papers, she had started to include Edwards preferred publications as part of her order; so, she was certain he could keep himself entertained before her return if need be.
She was just about to head to her room in order to fetch her pale blue spencer when she heard a most distinct knock upon her front door. Oh, for heaven's mercy, she thought, retreating down the first few steps and heading back into the drawing room, would these visits never cease! Perhaps she should be like Darcy, and simply leave word with the staff that he was not at home to callers; when in truth he was quite happily situated in his private parlour with a book. Such a little white lie was most tempting at present. She was just looking out of the drawing room window, watching a governess pass the window with her little charges by her side, when her house keeper, Mrs Marks, came into the room to announce the arrival of her current caller.
"Please Miss, a Colonel Fitzwilliam to see you, shall I send him in?"
Anne felt her blood pound in her ears, what on earth was he doing here? She had seen nothing of him since that evening on his return to London. She had resolved not to think of Richard, and with the amusements of ton, had been doing very well in her endeavour. Oh, why was he here? She looked over towards the house keeper and simply nodded. She stood, continuing to focus her attentions on the outside scenes beyond the window.
Richard gave the house keeper his most charming of smiles as she returned to allow him entry into the drawing room and her mistress within. He took a deep breath, he always felt slightly out of breath and light headed when alone in Anne's company. He was still unsure if such a visit was a good idea or not. Yet he had to see her.
He entered the room and glanced towards the beautiful satin covered settees and matching sets. He had expected to find Anne seated on his arrival. Slightly taken aback he took in the rest of the room. The drawing room was large, a good several feet wider than Darcy's, with bright richly detailed rugs, several landscapes in gold gild frames and the most exquisitely expensive looking crystal chandelier which must of cost a small fortune. The room was utterly charming. A mix of soft hues and simple elegance which suited the nature of the new mistress of the house perfectly. Finally, his eyes fell on Anne. She stood, silhouetted against the afternoon light from the window. She wore a yellow day dress, a similar shade to the striking yellow gown she had been wearing that first evening he saw her on his return to Rosings. Her hair, a rich chestnut in the glow of the sun, was swept up high with several inviting tendrils of hair left to fall artfully about her shoulders. He stood watching her back, waiting for her to turn around. However, Anne did not move.
His confidence began to waver, perhaps he should not have come. What did he expect? That she would be so happy to see him in the privacy of her own home that she would simply run into his arms? He could not lie; he would welcome such an act. Anything would have been better than her simply turning her back to him. He hesitated, the two simply stood at opposite sides of the room.
Eventually, feeling entirely foolish, he decided to break the silence. "Anne, how are you? I must say you've made this room up very well. I must confess I haven't been inside this house in over ten years, but I recall it being in a much more masculine style than it appears at present."
"The house was always very much my fathers," Anne replied flatly. "I believe mother added to it over the years, but the place was always very much designed to his tastes."
"Will you not look at me, Anne?" There was such an earnest slant to his voice. It tugged on Anne's heart in ways she only wished she could ignore. She finally turned to face him across the room. His scarlet jacket was such a part of him. Anne could not think of Richard without his uniform, it suited him so well.
"Are you well? I mean, you look well, well what I mean is I hope you are well, for you look as though you surely are..." Good god man, get a hold of yourself! He stood, hoping to god she would make the next move. He had deployed field tactics less excoriating than this!
"I am well, she replied. She did not wish to sit, but rather leaned against the edge of a chair. "You may sit if you so desire. Now of what do I owe this pleasure? For I have not seen nor heard from you in quite some time."
Oh, she was playing such a cold fish. He did not expect Anne to be so artful. He was almost disappointed. His sweet, unassuming Anne was not meant to be childish, such a trait was for other women. "I merely wished to see you. Anne..." He paused for greater effect, "Anne, I simply miss you."
"You miss me?" She almost laughed, for the words stung her. "How can you miss me when it is your doing that we have been apart? How dare you decide you can come into my home and announce that you simply miss me when it is you, you, who have made our situation thus."
His eyes grew wide, surprised by the fire in her temper. Where was his meek little Anne? The young girl who was so quick to smile. The mild girl who had looked at him with such admiration from the very same brown eyes which now flashed at him in anger. All these years he had believed her affection for him had merely been a young girls passing fancy. That her desire to see herself as mistress of Pemberley out ranked any feelings she may have felt for him. Could he have been wrong? Did those feelings which flickered in his soul, the embers which could never be truly extinguished; did they still burn just as brightly within her?
"Anne, you know as well as I do it was not as simple as that."
"Why did you stop writing?" She demanded. She was slightly shocked by her forceful manner. Yet she was determined not to yield to the nervous fluttering's within her stomach. Too long she had waited, fretted, mourned for a love she believed to have never existed. She deserved to know the truth; it was time Anne moved forward with her life.
"I thought it for the best," Richard replied softly. "Your mother indeed thought it for the best."
"My mother is a fool and I do not believe for one second a man such as you would pay heed to her ridiculousness. Why Richard?" Anne asked her voice betraying her false bravado as it began to uncontrollably quiver. She felt her eyes sting with tears. She had wanted to ask the question for so long. She never dreamed she would ever have such an opportunity to do so. "Why was I not enough?"
"Oh, Anne do not say such foolish things." He took several quick strides across the room until they were merely inches apart. "There has never been a woman, likely will never be a woman, whom I hold in such high regard as I do towards you. You must believe me when I say, if I had known back then that there was even the slightest of hope for us, I would not have ended our closeness so abruptly. But you see I had no choice. I could not be near you, think of you; knowing that you would never be called mine. To watch you become his wife; to watch you become mistress of his house, the mother of his children. To become everything the family wished you to be. It broke my heart. I left for the safe distance of the continent after your mother assured me you had every intention of becoming Darcy's wife."
"And you believed her?" Anne asked as a large watery tear rolled down her cheek. "You did not even think to ask me. After all I told you, all I wrote to you. You knew how my life at Rosings was, you and only you knew how much I wished to be free. Yet you left me, without a second thought or kind word. You simply abandoned me and moved on."
Richard reached out and grabbed Anne roughly, gripping a hand around each of her upper arms. He almost wanted to shake the girl.
"That is what you think of me?" He almost snarled as his temper got the best of him. "That I merely moved on and gave you not another thought? Oh, woman can be such wretched creatures, they believe their own misery and sufferings to be so much greater than that of the opposite sex! Let me assure you once and for all I thought of you always!" Upon meeting her gaze, he paused. The tightness of his hold on her arms eased as the sudden rush of rage began to fade. His heart ached for the years she could have been his own. "You may not have been with me in close proximity but I can assure you, in my heart you are present always, like you have been always and forever shall remain."
She looked up at him, she had no idea what to say to such a declaration. But that was just it. Yet again they were just words, there was no promise behind them. How could she really trust him? She was still uneasy; how could he just leave her and listen to her mother? If his affection towards her was as violent as he said, how could he just turn around and leave? It did not make sense, her mind was a turmoil of such thoughts she could not make any sense of them. She thought back to her confrontation with her mother. Richard had always been his own force, entirely in command of his own decisions. If he had wanted her as his own, he would have taken her as such, unless..."
"My mother told me you came to Rosings, Anne said softly, watching Richards countenance closely. Did his eye just twitch? "She told me you were more interested in my dowry than in my heart. She told me you were easy to persuade once she said she would not allow you access to the de Bourgh fortune, that I wanted more than my current position. She said it was clear that your aspirations for your future self far outweighed any feelings you may have felt towards me. Is this true?"
"Anne, how can you ask me such a thing!" Richard cried, in a slightly over the top manner, dropping Anne's arms and taking a step back. "Anne, I have just told you; you consume my very soul, money was never even a thought on my part – it was you whom I believed to be more concerned with not accepting a man so decidedly beneath your expectations. Am I wrong?" He artfully deflected the question back to herself. "Would you have loved me enough to become the penniless wife of a solider? I could offer you nothing to the grandeur of your upbringing, no security. There is no way your mother would have shown us any kindness in defying her wishes."
"It would not have mattered once I turned of age!" Anne cried with exasperation. "All you had to do was ask me. Richard I would have had your love which is all I wanted. As for security well that is something I could have given both of us. Mother had no claims over my inheritance. I have never wished to be Darcy's bride, there is nothing that would of made it so."
Richard stood a moment. He was thinking, and thinking fast. His feelings towards Anne were still strong. She was not as he remembered, she had more spirit, but he was sure in time she would be just as compliant as he recalled. How to play this. He thought of the Barony, yet that was no certainty in itself. In truth Lady Catherine had been correct. When Richard first began his attention towards her daughter, he had done so primarily in the hope she would fall for him in order to best his cousin. Upon understanding her impressive dowry, he could not lie it was a massive incentive. Yet, somehow, he had lost his foolish heart to Anne along the way. She had bewitched him without even trying.
"Anne, I respect you far too much to consider such a vulgarity as your fortune. I cannot tell you how happy I was to hear you and Darcy had both agreed never to enter into an attachment. I must confess the idea of such a union has brought me little joy. I could not stand such a thought. I was so certain he was going to propose to you this Easter; and then our conversation that evening, I thought it had finally been agreed. I could not stay a moment longer."
"Oh, heavens no." Suddenly Anne realised, he had been referring to her and Darcy that evening in his drunken state in the kitchen. She had just assumed he knew of Darcy's intentions towards offering for Elizabeth. She was just about to say something on that point, but was unsure how much of Darcy's personal business she could share, when Richard suddenly cut in.
"I do believe I have taken up enough of your time. I think both of us need some time for personal reflection. It is good to see you Anne, I intend for us to become friends once more, if you will allow it?
"Nothing would give me greater pleasure Richard than to call you my friend." Anne said meekly, not entirely pleased that their conversation had come to such an abrupt end. "Please do call again soon."
"Nothing shall keep me away this time, I promise." He reached forward and took her hand, turning it at the very last moment in order to leave a kiss upon the bare skin on the inside of her wrist. She felt her skin burn from his lips as she watched him take his leave. She stood in the middle of her drawing room, more confused by their exchange than ever.