Anne's face ached from smiling so vigorously. She could not help it; she had never felt so glorious as she did at that moment, tucked perfectly into the crook of Edwards arm. Dressed in a gown of pale pink and fern green taffeta, it sparkled in the candle light. Delicate, hand embroidery in golden thread was interwoven all over the gown in a swirling pattern of falling leaves, winding vines and sinuous branches. Oberon and his Titania; they looked every inch the King and Queen of the Fairies.
Though much of the needle work had been done by Anne's own hand, she did owe much gratitude to Lady Frasers young maid, Missy, who had been entirely thrilled to assist. Anne had taken great delight in improving the girls already rather skilled needle work. This had also allowed Anne more time to focus on the trickier aspects of the beautiful leaves and butterfly wings which adorned her crown. She had been working upon her headdress over a span of several weeks. Stump work was one of her favourite embroidery techniques, nothing could quite compare to the magic of it. Using fine gimp cord in order to bend and place the items as she desired, she had also worked in mother of pearl beading alongside beautiful chestnut feathers from the plume of a male pheasant. These feathers also adored the matching crown which sat upon Edwards's head, his dark hair contrasting ever so handsomely with their rich russet hues.
"Finally, Anne!" cried Lady Fraser as Anne and Edward entered the doorway to the main hall. "I saw your arrival almost an hour ago!"
"I must apologise, it has been quite the task to make our way through the crush and congratulations," Anne smiled apologetically. "Not to mention the pomp and show displayed by her mother." She glanced over the shoulder, to her relief her mother was still in deep conversation with Lady Dalrymple.
"Never have I seen you look more radiant. Both of you," Lady Fraser leaned forward and affectionately touched Edwards's cheek. "I only wish Malcolm were here to witness you both."
"Oh Bea," Edward replied with feeling, moving to offer her his free arm. "We shall call on him tomorrow. It has been a week since he last whooped me at whist. You look delightful old bird," he teased to which she playfully batted him on the forearm. "What are you? A Spanish maid perhaps? A pirate Queen? How can the young ladies of the ton ever hope to compete! I am certain your dance card will never be empty."
"I am a gypsie fortune teller," she exclaimed jiggling the round glass orb which dangled low from her neck. "I would have thought that quite obvious!"
He smiled at her which earned him another swat of the forearm. "My dear Anne I do not know how you do not throttle him. Ridiculous flirt of a man. How such a devil claimed the heart of girl so good as yourself I do not know."
"Nor I. Now shall we go in? For what man could be more fortunate than I to have not one but two beautiful women on my arm." He spoke in gest but his eyes only focused on Anne, who could only continue to smile in her happiness.
"I am sure following the announcement of your engagement in yesterday's paper you both will have been bombarded with congratulations and well-wishers?"
"Yes rather," Anne replied, nodding to people of her acquaintance as they moved through the crowds further into the ballroom under the grand floral display she and Georgianna had overseen in its creation. "Mother of course is in her element. She wishes our wedding to be the first and largest of the season."
"The biggest and the best," Edward cut in. "A desire which I am only more than too happy oblige."
"I have told you both, I do not wish for anything elaborate. A quiet affair and a small wedding breakfast of our closest family and friends. You sir shall drive my mother to distraction if you allow her such indulgences. She is entirely enamoured with him," Anne laughed leaning forward across his body to speak directly to Bea; "honestly the two of them are thick as thieves."
Bea smiled, yet it did not reach her eyes. She had never liked Catherine de Bourgh from their limited acquaintance during their years as young debutantes, fresh in society. The thought of losing Edward's favour to such a woman stung her, even though she knew it irrational. Almost sensing her sudden discomfort, Edward lowered his head to her ear.
"Never you worry Bea, you will always be my favourite. You cannot hope to get rid of me so easily."
She squeezed his arm affectionately. He reminded her so much of his father.
The room was a mass of people, the event a huge success. Anne could not quite believe the amount of attendance tickets which had been sold, nor the sizeable donations given so willingly by so many. The Mayweather society had hoped to have enough to begin the refurbishment of a building in town with the purpose of creating a school for young girls. None of the members expect Lady Fraser and Lady Drummond-Burrell knew that the building in question belonged to Anne, she did not desire the unwanted attention. At present it looked as though they would have more than enough to begin looking for staff and to cover running costs as soon as the building was once again habitable.
"Shall I bring you both some refreshment?" Edward asked. The room was a sea of people, the summer heat and mass of bodies almost unbearable. Anne nodded in agreement, she knew how much he detested loud crowds, only tolerable when horse racing was involved.
No sooner had Edward left in search of the refreshment room, Anne and Bea found themselves surrounded by a swarm of ladies, engulfed in lively and excited conversation. Everyone wished to know more of Anne and Lord Colville's engagement. Many said they were expecting such news, some merely asked for advice of catching a man of such stature for their own. Anne found such line of questioning uncomfortable. Goodness, neither wonder Darcy hated events such as this if he spent his whole evening avoiding being trapped into conversation by such husband hungry females!
She smiled as best she could, nodded when appropriate, and at first opportunity made her excuses in the vain attempt that she really ought to go find her mother. Breaking away from the gaggle of girls, she had only moved a few feet when a man moved in front of her path. She recognised him immediately even with the elaborate fringed black mask over his face. Dressed in a chequered costume of red and green diamond print, with ruffled neck line and large red bows upon white slippered feet; the overall effect was quite convincing. He waved his wooden sword in his left hand as he reached to remove his harlequin mask with the right.
"Hello cousin."
"Good evening Richard," she replied coolly. They had not seen each other since their last meeting at Rosings Park. The day he had asked her to marry him, to which she had refused.
He looked down at her, his chest tight. He knew he was still angry, but he had not thought he would still feel pain upon seeing her. He had watched her entrance from a distance, on the arm of Colville, an ethereal vision twinkling in the candle light. He knew what was what. He had expected their union the moment he had walked away from her, leaving her standing in the drawing room of that blasted house. He had spoken of their exchange to no one. He had returned to London and put all his energies into securing his backup plan. He should be happy he told himself, yet no matter how much he tried to forget the matter, it ate away at him. Even though he saw it coming, seeing the announcement in the morning Chronicle, printed boldly in black and white had knocked the wind right out of him.
"I hear congratulations are in order," he spoke flatly.
She chewed her lip nervously. Though he had done her wrong, she did not hate her cousin, she could never hate Richard. However, she had felt no remorse in her refusal of him. "Thank you. You look well."
"I am," he replied though his facial expression implied more. "I have not seen you in sometime. Much it would seem has happened since we last crossed paths." He paused and looked at her intently, he could not help himself; "and you truly are happy?"
She nodded by way of reply, not wishing to say anything which may cause him pain. He nodded, collecting his thoughts, his face sombre. Neither of them spoke. Finally, Richard smiled, a large lop-sided grin, quite unlike any expression Anne had ever seen on him.
"Then I am happy for you," he all but shouted, drawing the attention of those in their near vicinity. "You may have heard; I too have such happy news! For I myself have only recently become engaged to Miss Carmichael." He raised his voice for all-round them to hear. Once certain he had the crowd's attention he continued; "am I not the most fortunate of men, my dear cousin, to have secured such an angel for a bride?"
Upon seeing those of his acquaintance smile and nod around him at such a gallant remark, he then dropped his voice so that only Anne should hear;
"I have never desired a livewire for my wife." He looked at Anne with sadness in his expression. He took a step closer to her, surrounding himself in the familiar scent of rosewater, so integral to her person. He felt the familiar tightening of his chest as he looked directly into her hazel eyes.
"I once loved a girl so unspoilt, so gentle and childlike a creature; however, she was lost to me. No one can ever compare." He paused; he saw no reaction to his words in her eyes. He sighed at such a realisation. "Perhaps in time Annabelle will fill that void. You may think what you will of me and my actions; yet there is one thing you cannot chastise me for. At least I had the good sense to appreciate your worth. No one, not even your Lord Colville can with such certainty admit that. I admired the girl long before she became the accomplished woman."
"And that has always been our problem," Anne replied softly, taking a small step back, growing uncomfortable under his gaze. "The girl you remember, the girl you so desired, never really existed. She was just waiting for a chance to be her own master. I wish you all the happiness in the world Richard. Annabelle is a sweet girl. Be good to her, for all girls must grow up one day."
He looked at her with such a torn expression, she knew there was nothing more to be said. He bowed, locking his cool blue eyes against her own one final time before turning and disappearing into the mass of the crowd.
She let out a slow breath, pausing to gather her thoughts. She knew their first meeting would be uncomfortable, but she had survived it. She had survived him and in doing so had found a man whom she never wished to be parted. She turned her head to only be met with Edwards gaze from a little across the room. She smiled, he had simply observed them, knowing better than to interfere, he knew she would be able to handle her cousin. She smiled at him reassuringly, taking comfort in her fiancé's steadfast presence, watching as he relaxed his jaw and dropped his shoulders. He smiled back at her holding out a half-filled glass of punch triumphantly as she approached him.
"You may feel that you have just gone to war, however I have just done battle with an entire room of idiotic gentleman hell bent on bringing their partners refreshment. For a moment I feared the worst. I am rather afraid I have more of your drink on my sleeve than in your glass."
She assured him it mattered not, and gladly took a sip. The orchestra could be seen readying for the first set, their cue to begin moving towards the centre of the room. As they approached Edward broke into a wide grin upon seeing his good friend standing nearby.
Dressed as King Arthur, next to a red headed Guinevere and several other gentlemen dressed as Persians; Montague looked entirely looked somehow notes yet entirely preoccupied. Upon seeing Edward and Anne approach his face alighted. He stepped forward, distancing himself from his companions.
"Colville I can not tell you how glad I am to see you." He shook Edwards's hand warmly. Who better to distract him from the evenings tedious conversations and his frantic scanning the room for the arrival of a certain brunette?
"King of the fairies? Really? Hmm wonders never cease. Miss de Bourgh never have I seen such a more perfect Titania."
The trio began to converse, chattering happily. Although a decade his senior, Edward and Cedric were firm friends. Anne liked the sensible young man very much. His behaviour this evening however intrigued her. Montague still seemed rather on edge, but his demeanour appeared to calm the longer he spoke to Edward and his fiancée. He had only just asked if they had yet seen the Bingley's when they were interrupted by the clearly unimpressed presence of the red headed Guinevere.
"Cousin, do not you think you should introduce me to your friends?"
Montague could not help himself, he looked to the heavens. God give him strength.
"Well cousin, Lord Colville you already know." He gave his friend an apologetic smile. The red head took his arm possessively nodding towards the Viscount. "And this charming creature is his fiancée, Miss Anne de Bourgh of Rosings Park. Miss de Bourgh please allow me to introduce my cousin, Lady Julianna Mycroft."
