Spring 1812
"No," said Anne as she looked around the room. "If I am to call this my chambers, then it is necessary that the floors are to be redone as well. There are many spots that are not level and the boards are loose. That will not do at all."
The room was in such a state of disrepair that it would need to be almost completely reconstructed in order to be of use again. Two decades prior, Lady Catherine had filled the room with her distinct, yet disagreeable style of décor, and the combination of ostentatious colours and outdated furniture was still present, creating an unpleasant atmosphere. At that time, Sir Lewis de Bourgh was not a particularly proficient landlord, and this meant that Rosings was struggling to remain solvent. As a result, Lady Catherine had to work within a limited budget when decorating, so she purchased materials that were cost-effective but still gave off an opulent appearance.
The servant jotted down Miss de Bourgh's orders, not quite comprehending why she desired to transform the chambers into her own personal suite. The rooms were dark, tucked away from the main part of the house, and hardly ever used, yet it was not his place to question his mistress. Miss Anne de Bough, however, had her reasons for selecting these chambers, ones that were very similar to the reasons the servant assumed would make them unsuitable. They were located as far away from her mother's chambers as possible, and there was a convenient entrance close by. Should Anne desire to arrive or leave the house unbeknownst to her mother, her chances of achieving this were much higher in the furthest part of the house.
She still wanted to remain comfortable, so she wished to combine the chambers the ones next to them and change the flooring and wallpaper to more modern choices. Most of the furniture from her current chambers would be moved hither, except for a few pieces that were much too large to move or that she wished to replace.
On the next day, a tradesman was invited to present Anne with a range of wallpaper and flooring samples. Lady Catherine was not happy that Anne had not told her when the tradesman had come, and her daughter had even given bribes to prevent the servants from telling her. Although Anne had taken on the mantle of legal mistress of Rosings, Lady Catherine still acted as if she was the one in charge. Yet, Anne controlled the purse strings, and her mother and the servants both knew it. A few coins bought Anne whatever she wished.
Anne chose to use a light brown wood for the flooring and a delicate, rosy hue for the wallpaper. The decorations were tasteful and understated, there were no overly bright flowers, no gilding, and no materials that were overly expensive. She provided the tradesman with the deposit, sternly cautioning him to ignore any of her mother's instructions. She had no interest in discovering that her mother had swapped her tasteful decor for something gaudy and overwhelming. The tradesman agreed and told her the work would take about a fortnight. He had arranged to come back the next day with his team of workers to begin taking out the old flooring.
"Miss de Bourgh," said one of the workers, looking rather nervous. He lingered in the entrance of the parlour, where she was engaged in her embroidery.
"Yes," she said, beckoning him to enter.
"Miss, we found something under the floor. In the room where we are working, I mean."
Anne studied the man, pondering what could have been causing his nervousness. She was not like her mother. She would not deride him for whatever they had found. Obviously, the workers did not put it there, whatever it was. "What did you find?"
"Some letters, Miss, but there's an awful lot of them and sealed too."
"Show me." Anne set her embroidery in her basket and stood up, the smell of wallpaper paste lingering in the air as she followed the worker to the chambers being redone.
He escorted her to the two piles of letters, which were laid on a small wooden table, secured together with a tight bow on each one. She picked up one stack, which was addressed to Georgiana, and then the other, which was for Fitzwilliam. The names were written in a graceful, unfamiliar script.
"I thank you all for finding these and telling me promptly of them," said Anne to the tradesman and his workers. "Pray, mention nothing of this to my mother. Not a word."
The men looked at each other and shrugged. In exchange for their silence, Anne gave the tradesman a few coins, then she hurried back to her current rooms with the letters.
Thankfully, her cousin Fitzwilliam was to arrive in only a few days. She would keep the letters tucked away until then and give them to him as soon as possible. Unfortunately, there were no loose floorboards in her current chambers, and she was certain that her mother sometimes entered her rooms when she was away. She carefully examined every corner of the room, searching for the ideal place to conceal them. The idea of trying to hide the items in her room was on the brink of being dismissed until her eyes settled upon her bulky winter pellise. It was too warm to need such a garment now, but it would not be a place that her mother would search. She shoved the letters into the sleeves of the pelisse — as it did not have pockets — and stepped back. It was perfect. It did not look any different with the letters concealed within.
Anne was a bundle of nerves throughout that evening. Her mother seemed to be able to sense it, questioning her if she had taken her tonic that day. She hadn't, as she had not taken any tonic for the last six months, but her mother did not need to know that. Mr. Collins started to talk about how wonderful her mother was for allowing him to keep bees, as if it had been Lady Catherine's choice. Why should she or her mother care if the silly man wished to keep bees? The bees would likely benefit the nearby farms, but that was the only impact the parson's hobby would have on their lives.
"Are you looking forward to your cousins' visit?" asked Mrs. Collins in a whisper.
"I am," confirmed Anne. " I have not seen Richard — that is, Colonel Fitzwilliam — in several years. We are fortunate enough to see Darcy more frequently than Richard, yet it has been quite a while — probably the beginning of last spring was when I last saw him. I had been hoping that his sister would accompany him, but unfortunately, she had no desire to come here. I cannot say blame her."
Mrs. Collins, with a small smile on her face, was silent and gave no further response to her last comment as Anne's mother interrupted.
"Miss Bennet," said Lady Catherine. "Have you heard back from your father about my offer?"
"Your ladyship, I have not the pleasure of understanding you," Miss Bennet answered.
She wasn't the only one. Anne was completely perplexed by her mother's allusion to some sort of offer.
"Why, a governess for your sisters, of course," said Lady Catherine. "I have already sent out inquiries and there is a very likely candidate that might be willing to take the position, if your father agrees. A Miss Jane Fairfax was recommended to me by an acquaintance."
"My parents do not wish to hire a governess, my lady," Miss Bennet replied.
Anne suspected that Miss Bennet had not written anything to her family regarding the suggestion of a governess. Truly, it was most uncomfortable when her mother did things like this. Now Miss Bennet was forced to tell half-truths in order to not offend her host.
Lady Catherine then began to explain in detail, yet again, the importance of having a governess to ensure that proper deportment and the various accomplishments are taught to a young lady. Anne thought Miss Bennet was one of the most intelligent ladies of her acquaintance, so her parents must be doing something correctly, governess or no.
After a few more minutes of Anne's mother's monologue, Mrs Collins was able to successfully shift the conversation to art, which made the rest of the meal go by more smoothly. Lady Catherine was absolutely sure that her preferences in art were the finest in England, so she spoke extensively about the subject. Anne thought her mother should have been born male, for she had clearly missed her calling as a lecturer.
Meanwhile, Anne could speak in hushed tones to Mrs. Collins, who was a very good conversationalist. Often Anne wondered how Mrs. Collins had come to be Mr. Collins' wife, as she was so opposite of her husband. Sir William did not seem the sort to pressure his daughter into accepting a marriage proposal she did not want. The match certainly was not a love match. That much was obvious every time Mrs. Collins was made to blush by her husband's foolishness.
After dinner, Anne plead a headache and retired for the evening. She actually felt very well, but she wished to guard the letters from any prying. Her cousins' visit could not come soon enough.
