Anne sat with her forehead resting on the cool glass of the quarter light. It was by no means the most comfortable way to sit for a long journey, however the angle gave all the appearance of her being asleep. Albeit she had not once closed her eyes. As such, Darcy had left her in peace for the majority of their journey; he himself nodding in and out of a most disturbed sleep with every bump in the road. Anne had no desire for conversation. She simply wished to be left in peace to scrutinise her own thoughts and emotions.
She blamed herself for her mother's fall. Oh, she knew it was silly, but she did all the same. Her mother was not a young woman, she had no one to care for her if not Anne. Yet, no one or not, she had still removed herself to the house in London. It pained her, but she rarely thought of her mother kindly, and in those moments when she did, she did not wish to return.
Anne had taken herself away from Rosings, yet again, simply leaving her mother and the troubles of home behind. She hated herself to admit it, but those three years in Scotland with her aunt Tilly had truly been her happiest. How often had she wondered what it would be like to have a mother whom she could talk to; a mother to confide in, encourage her and above all show her simple kindness and affection. Her mother had never offered such solace.
For a long time, Anne had simply accepted this was how things should be. The daughter of a great house and granddaughter to an Earl. Her mother was her mother, her word was rule and her own life took place simply within her shadow. There had never been the hope of change, nor did Anne believe herself worthy of such attentions. She had no hobbies, no true talents and little to recommend herself amongst society. Her mother had made those points exceedingly clear. She had been quite on her own. Perhaps this was why Anne's feelings towards Richard had been so severe. He had shown her kindness, attention; a rare and wondrous gift to a young girl who had never received such a thing.
Was that why she had been so willing to leave again? The fallout from her refusing to marry her cousin, and learning of her mother's involvement with Richard had been sound enough reason to leave; but had Anne left simply because she my wanted to? She had only been back at Rosings for two months, yet her mother treated her as she always had; a mere child. What Anne feared most was returning to the role of the meek and mild daughter, the girl with nothing to say, with no interests and no friends of her own. The girl who did only what her mother asked of her. Anne did not wish to be that girl again.
She felt guilty. Did this make her a horrid child? Did it make her ungrateful? She did love her mother, but she was not certain if she in fact liked her. Were the two things mutually exclusive? Anne did not know. She bit her lip. Perhaps her mother's constant criticism of Anne's shortfalls as a daughter were correct?
No, she told herself sternly. You are not what she says you are. You have friends now; you enjoy things, people like you: Edward likes you. She thought of Edward and here her guilty conscious intermingled with the niggling twinge of disappointment.
For a moment her mother was forgot, and her thoughts were consumed by Edward and his spiced wood cologne. She replayed his words again;
"I can say with absolute certainty that every woman in the whole of London is safe from me, but you Anne... you, are an entirely different matter."
Oh, to be certain that he meant it! His eyes told her he did. There had been truth in all his looks. Had he not held her so close she could feel the thud of his heart against the beat of her own? She was certain, for a second time, he had intended to kiss her; and in front of everyone present. In front of both her cousins no less! Surely if that had occurred, in such a public gathering, there would be no other option for him but to call her his own? There was nothing Anne desired more.
Yet while all this frivolity was being played out, her own mother was in god only knew what sort of state. Oh dear, she thought yet again, allowing a low moan to escape her lips. Her poor mother.
Her stomach ached. A twisting unpleasant feeling brought on my dread. What was it she dreaded exactly? Of course she was worried about her mother's welfare, she cared for her mother; but Lady Catherine was who she was. It had taken Anne many years to understand that. Yet, she dreaded losing herself under the force that was her mother.
Suddenly the carriage turned and Anne had to grasp the door handle in order to stop herself from falling forward. She peered through the glass; it was not yet dawn. The trees outside rose tall and proud, like soldiers at attention with their thick trucks standing firm. They solemnly guarded the arrival to the main gate. Anne sat back against her seat; they were home.
As the carriage stopped in front of the stone steps to Rosings Park, Anne gently nudged Darcy's elbow in an attempt to rouse him from his sleep.
"Darcy we are here, it would seem we made very good time. The sun is not even awake."
Darcy rubbed his face rather coarsely in an attempt to make his sleepy eyes focus. Flexing his long legs, he then opened the door, stepping down from the carriage till the gravel stones crushed beneath his feet. He offered his hand to help Anne down from the carriage just as the large front doors parted.
Anne turned and smiled at Hughes, the elderly butler, as his small grey-haired head appeared through the gap in the doorway.
"Miss de Bourgh," he smiled with genuine happiness at the sight of the young miss. "You cannot know how glad we are to have you home."
"Hughes it is good to see you too, tell me how is mother?" Anne walked forward taking the stone steps one at a time in order to not trip on the length of her evening wrap. Upon reaching the butler, she laid a hand on his arm. "We were told to make haste, how is she?" Anne was aware of Darcy's comforting presence as he followed her closely into the house.
The house was quiet, dark and eerily still. Anne would have expected more commotion. It did nothing to curb her uneasiness.
"Her Ladyship had a terrible fall, just before breakfast. I did not see it happen. She was taken immediately to her chamber. I am afraid I know little else; I am unable to see her while in her chambers. The doctor was sent for immediately, and he was with her some considerable time. Upon his departure I was informed that I should send for you and send for you I did. How glad we are to have you home."
"Who is with mother at present? Are you certain the doctor said nothing more of her condition to you? I assume she has a nurse?"
The butler simply shook his head. "You of all people," he said quietly as though sharing a great secret, "know how private her Ladyship can be when it comes to personal matters. She allows barely any of the household staff into her private chambers. She has allowed one or two of the young chambermaids to attend her. Of course, Mary has been with her constantly. Her Ladyship seldom tolerates people in her rooms."
Yes, Anne was quite aware of her mother's distaste for people entering her private chambers. She desired and enforced privacy above all things. Anne considered her mother's room at Grosvenor Square. Undisturbed, all its contents simply hidden from the world; the happy portrait of the young couple once covered in dust now hanging upon the wall of her own bedchamber.
"Well she shall see me," Anne replied firmly, surprising herself at her determination. "Hughes would you be so kind as to see Darcy settled in his usual rooms. Have Mrs Allen send him a tray when he so chooses."
She turned to her cousin and gave him a small smile. "I think it best if I go and see mother alone. I am surprised a nurse was not sent for by the doctor, if the concern was so great. Please do go and rest, for the journey was not so easy. May I send for you if I need your council?"
"Of course, you may. Are you quite certain you do not wish me to come with you directly?"
"No, Hughes makes a valid point. Mother does not allow anyone within her rooms, other than Mary of course. I believe I should prefer to ascertain the situation before I open the flood gates." Darcy gave Anne a smile of encouragement, there was little anyone could do otherwise.
A few moments later Anne found herself outside the ornately carved door if her mother's chamber. She listened intently; all was silent within. She was just about to open the door when movement along the corridor to her left drew her attention. It was Mary her mother's personal maid. What was she doing leaving mother on her own?
"Miss de Bourgh," said the maid with some surprise. "We did not expect you to arrive quite so soon."
"Whatever do you mean? We left as soon as the messenger told us of the news. Mary why are you not with mother? Hughes said you have been with her since it happened, pray what did the doctor say?"
Here the woman faltered, stuttering over her words. Poor soul, thought Anne she must have had quite the shock. Mary had been her mother's personal maid for over ten years. It should not be surprising that she was upset.
"She fell the length of the stairs miss, the doctor said she must rest and will need time to recover from her injuries. He insisted it was best that you should come home immediately."
Anne looked at her rather puzzled. Why did her turn of phrase seem so unnatural? Mary looked back at her rather uneasily.
"Yes, but I wish to know what the injuries are, how serious the situation? Did she hit her head? Has she broken a bone? What did the doctor say? Why is no one simply telling me the outcome?"
Mary stood, not making eye contact with the young miss, she felt rather uncomfortable. Eventually Anne, growing rather exasperated, simply turned to open the door to her mother's room. If no one wished to tell her, she would find out for herself what awaited inside.
"Oh no miss, you know how your mother does not like people to enter her rooms unannounced. Nor does she like to be woken at such an hour as this. Perhaps you should go to your rooms and rest. I shall come and collect you once your mother is awake and ready to receive visitors."
"Receive visitors," cried Anne. "Mary what nonsense it is you speak. This is not a social visit; my mother has had a fall. She will likely need to rest for the foreseeable. It is not as those I am waiting for some granted audience with my mother. I intend to see her immediately and if needed shall take over in the role of nurse until someone more suitable can be found." Anne looked at Mary rather incredulously. Did the woman have no sense? Clearly, she could not grasp the seriousness of the situation.
"Miss, I really do not think it wise to interrupt your mother."
"Nonsense," said Anne growing annoyed; and with that she opened the door and entered the room.
The room was dark. The heavy curtains were pulled tight, blocking out all hints of the outside world. A low fire smouldered in the hearth.
Moving through the seating area Anne made her way to the adjoining bedroom. She had never actually seen where her mother physically slept, but the layout of the room was identical to her own.
A large four poster bed with a draping, fabric canopy could be seen filling the centre of the room. Her mother's bed appeared the largest Anne had ever seen. She almost wanted to laugh; for it was so predictable.
Anne felt rather vexed for the poor attentions shown to her mother. There were no chambermaids sitting with a watchful eye within the room. This lack of care puzzled and annoyed Anne greatly. Did no one think to watch her as she slept? She thought of Lord Fraser and the attentive care shown to him from his staff. They had displayed genuine affection. Her poor mother was simply left on her own.
Seeing the candle on the mantel, Anne lifted it down and placed it in the low embers of the fire. To her relief the wick came alight. She then used this to light several candles until the room was illuminated in their soft glow.
Holding the candle stick, she moved closer to where her mother lay. At first it was difficult to make her out; surrounded in sheets and overly large pillows. Her normally large and imposing frame was entirely hidden. Lifting the candle higher her mother's face came into view as she lay sleeping.
Anne was taken aback at just how old and frail her mother appeared. Her mother's long blonde hair now streaked with grey was in reality rather thin, short and straw like. Without her additional hair pieces and ornately adored turbans, she was not nearly as formidable. Anne stood over her quietly. She could see no visible marks upon her face, however the rest of her was hidden under her many sleeping blankets. She paused a moment, observing her mother frown in her sleep. Poor mother, perhaps she was in acute pain?
Without thinking, Anne leaned forward and place a kiss gently on her mother's forehead. No sooner had she done so but her mother's eyes opened wide.
"Mary!" She screamed attempting to sit up. "MARY!"
"Mother it is me," Anne said softly "It is only Anne."
Her mother suddenly stopped, and allowed herself to fall back upon the pillow. She closed her eyes and lay still until she eventually spoke:
"I should have known you would not be such a disappointment as to refuse the plea of the good doctor."
"Oh mother of course I came back, how could you think so little of me. But please tell me are how you are? Are you in great pain?"
Her mother lay still, her eyes closed, listening to the worry in her daughters' voice. It was exactly as she planned.
"Mother," Anne repeated, her concern growing as her mother gave no reply. "Should I fetch a physician? I shall go and get Darcy."
"Darcy?" Her mother asked her eyes opening wide again. "Why do you speak of my nephew?"
"Well..." Anne began rather lost for words by the sternness of her mother's tone. "We were at a ball when the messenger came in search of me. Indeed, it was Darcy whom he..."
"You mean to tell me you were with Darcy at a ball last night."
"Well yes, of course he was also in attendance. It was his good foresight that we should take his carriage immediately, we arrived but a few moments ago."
"You travelled all the way from London, with Darcy, in the middle of the night?"
"Mother of course, he and I were both gravely concerned for your wellbeing. I sent him to rest upon our arrival."
Her mother closed her eyes again.
"Mother you have not answered my question, how badly are you hurt." Anne suddenly felt rather confused. "What did the doctor advice?"
"It would appear," her mother said slowly, dropping her voice slightly in order for it to sound as feeble as she would allow herself to appear; "that I shall be bed bound for quite some weeks."
"Oh goodness," Anne remarked. She placed the candle stick upon the bedside table and reached for her mother's hand, placing it between both her own. "You poor thing, why did you not say immediately? Is there a broken bone, what can be done?"
"It is my hip," replied Lady Catherine, looking at her daughter with some surprise. She disliked overly emotional displays. She looked down at her hand within Anne's; wringing it free from her grasp, she placed both hands firmly under her covers. "I am afraid I shall need you to help me in the coming weeks. The estate cannot be expected to run on its own without a mistress present."
"Oh mother of course I shall, but I am certain the house will run just as well as always. It is you who is our main concern. Should I perhaps call for a physician from London? I am sure Darcy knows many excellent men he could recommend."
"No," her mother replied sternly. "No thank you. I shall be fine with Doctor Webb. He took excellent care of you I recall. I am sure he is most capable."
"Well mother, in terms of Doctor Webb's treatments; I really would much rather you allowed..."
"I said no Anne. Now, I am tired. You know full well I am not one to be up at such an unrefined hour. Even the chambermaid is aware it is too early to light the fire. I would suggest you return to your room." She paused watching her daughter as she stepped back from the bed. "What in heavens are you wearing?"
"Oh, as I said we were at a ball; you will have heard Darcy speak of Mr Bingley, this is merely my evening wrap." She pulled the item closer to her person. A sudden chill ran up her spine as she thought of the dress beneath.
"Remove it," her mother said calmly.
"Mother really," Anne said trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "You are right, I should let you rest, I shall return shortly."
"Remove it," her mother repeated.
Anne stood as her mother stared at her challenging, as always it was her to yield. Unhooking the clasp from beneath her chin, she allowed the wrap to slump down, revealing her bare shoulders and the low neckline of the dress. She looked at her mother, awaiting her reaction, she had no intention of removing it entirely.
"I see," her mother replied flatly.
"Mother it is simply a dress, it is but the current fashion. We have spoken about this; you would not wish people to think I was unaware of the latest trends and styles..."
"Enough," her mother said raising her hand. "Go to your room. I shall send for you and Darcy when I am ready."
Anne nodded, she turned and began to leave the room.
"I take it you and Darcy have spent a great deal of time in one another's company while in London?"
"Well yes," Anne replied rather confused by such a remark. "I stayed with both he and Georgiana for several weeks before taking residency at Grosvenor Square."
Her mother sat a moment, deep in thought. Upon looking up she saw that Anne still stood, uninvited at the end of her bed. "You may leave."