Hello,
"Tell me, do you play and sing, Miss Bennet?" Lady Catherine turned her feathered-festooned head toward Elizabeth Bennet, her eyelids drooping condescendingly.
Silence crept across the long table until someone coughed.
Elizabeth kicked her booted foot in Darcy's direction, hitting something soft. She hoped it was Darcy's shin.
"Um, Ma'am. A little," Darcy said finally.
"We must have you play. Our pianoforte is excellent. You must try it. Do all your sisters play as well?"
Darcy's eyes flashed to Elizabeth's. Mary! She wished to tell him. You've sat through enough of her tortuous recitals at Longbourn to know that.
"Only one, Ma'am."
Lady Catherine's feather dipped momentarily. "Only one? How odd," she said, a bite of beef stuck on her fork in midair. "Do you all draw if you are not musical?"
Elizabeth tried to subtly shake her head.
"No, Ma'am," Darcy said.
Lady Catherine was now aghast. Her fork went back down to her plate.
"Did your mother not take you to town to study the masters?"
"My father is not fond of town," Darcy said, and Elizabeth wondered exactly how he had ascertained that information, but then it was no secret at Longbourn.
"Dear Aunt, the Bennet girls are accomplished in other ways," Elizabeth found herself saying in Darcy's baritone.
Lady Catherine's frown puckered. "How so?"
"Miss Bennett's sister Jane regularly attends to poor tenant's children of her father's. She brings them food and clothes and makes sure they have enough coal. And the younger sisters are excessively devoted to the cause of the militia," Elizabeth said. "They are very patriotic."
Darcy gave a half smile that reminded Elizabeth a great deal of his former masculine self. Across the table, their eyes met, and for a moment, both smiled. He had been paying attention, at least to her sisters, after all.
"Miss, Bennet, you must play. I insist," Lady Catherine said a half hour later when all had eaten their meals and conversation had begun to slow. "There is nothing I like more than music after a good meal."
Darcy was surprised, and he reddened as everyone at the table turned toward him expectantly. The only problem was he was not Elizabeth Bennet and he could play very little. His knowledge of music had faded considerably since his piano-lesson days of boyhood. He could not recall one song that was appropriate to play.
"No, Ma'am. I am quite out of practice. But Perhaps Mr. Darcy and the Colonel might sing something?"
Across the table, Elizabeth glared back at him.
The Colonel laughed and shook his head. "We are not musically gifted, unlike Miss Bennet, are we, Darcy?"
Elizabeth shook her head.
"Nonsense, this will give you a chance to practice on our excellent pianoforte," his Aunt spoke again.
"Miss Bennet," Mr. Collins said, his head bent in deference toward his patroness. "when Lady Catherine makes a request, it is not a suggestion."
Of course, the Toad would support his Aunt's draconian rule.
Darcy felt uncomfortable sweat beginning to pool in lady's private places. He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. Even Charlotte was nodding for him to play. Traitor. Some friend you are, he thought darkly.
Darcy shook his head again when a crack sounded. All stopped talking and turned around to find its source. Lady Catherine had slammed her cane's tip on the floor to get their attention. "Stop this insipid display of false modesty, Miss Bennet, and play, before I grow excessively displeased. Darcy, you will turn the pages for her."
It was a statement, not a question, and he knew from her tone there was little he could to do escape now.
Elizabeth stood up to Darcy's full height, which forced Darcy to stand as well. He wondered if he could fake swoon at the piano. Might it not be preferable to making an ass out of himself and ruining Elizabeth Bennet's reputation?
He cast his mind about, trying to remember a song, any song. He glumly took his seat on the bench at the pianoforte in the next room.
"I cannot think of a song to play," he hissed to Elizabeth.
"Mendolson?" Elizabeth said.
"No."
"What about Strauss? Beethoven? Can you not play a simple fairy dance?"
He shook his head. The others arranged chairs and pillows on loveseats around them. His hands felt like heavy weights on the keyboards that he could not lift.
Then only one song came to him in its entirety.
"I am sorry…" he whispered to Elizabeth, placing his fingers on the keys and beginning to play the opening chords. He sang:
To Anacreon in Heav'n, where he sat in full Glee,
A few Sons of Harmony sent a Petition,
That he their Inspirer and Patron would be;
When this answer arriv'd from the Jolly Old Grecian
Voice, Fiddle, and Flute, no longer be mute,
"I'll lend you my Name and inspire you to boot,
"And, besides I'll instruct you, like me, to intwine
"The Myrtle of Venus with Bacchus's Vine.
Elizabeth had a clear, sweet voice. When he played and sang with a quick rhythm, he assumed Lady Catherine did not notice he was singing an old drinking song he had learned at school, an ode to free love. He hoped not anyway. He dared not look at his cousin as he played, but hurried through the song, intentionally mispronouncing words so they might not be clearly heard. Finally, he finished after one and a half of the chorus. He stood, curtsied and the guests applauded kindly.
As he left the pianoforte bench, Lady Catherine leaned toward her daughter Anne next to her. "I am not familiar with that tune. Might it be a rustic folk song?"
Anne nodded and Darcy was thankful to his cousin Anne for her help, however inadvertent.
That night, Elizabeth sat on the bed in Darcy's enormous bed chamber. Darcy's man had come and gone, helping him change from his fine dinner clothes to his night ones. She did not think she would ever grow comfortable with undressing in front of a man, even in Darcy's tall, long-legged body. As it was, she could still barely look down at it.
Someone knocked at her door, and she assumed it was the Colonel again, although he had seemed deep in his cups by the end of dinner. She had indulged him and sat on his balcony while he smoked a cigar–which she could barely stand, but something her father also enjoyed. Tears pricked her eyes. How she missed her father right then and the comfortable safety of his library, even when filled with cigar smoke. She would not censure his habit of it anymore if she ever returned home as herself again. She wiped her eyes quickly and opened the door.
"Yes, cousin?"
But it was decidedly not his cousin. It was Anne de Bourgh, seated in her chair with her lady's maid behind her. Her pale face shone around a halo of her dark hair..
She smiled mildly. "Cousin Darcy," she said with more strength than he expected.
Elizabeth was shocked. "Cousin Anne. Are you well? I was not expecting to see you here now." Confusion washed over her.
She nodded. 'I wondered if you might indulge me with a visit for a short while. I suspect there are mutual expectations that should be discussed."
Elizabeth paused. "I was about to retire."
Anne nodded. "I understand. I would wish to talk freely without my mother's interference. That has been a challenge my whole life, I'm afraid. But I will not take up too much of your evening, I promise that."
Elizabeth was intrigued. Did Anne wish to discuss she and Darcy's assumed engagement? Curiosity burned in her chest and she was tempted simply to learn more. Darcy had claimed they were not engaged, but was it true?
Elizabeth nodded and raised her hand to indicate she would follow. "May I push your chair?"
Anne shook her head. "Dawson is very attuned to my needs."
Elizabeth walked slowly behind the women.
When they reached Anne's apartment, her door was ajar and it was easy to enter inside without thinking it improper. Her room was tidy to the point of sterility, everything carefully in its place. Elizabeth wondered about Anne's personal interests, but saw no evidence of them here.
Dawson wheeled Anne around so she was facing Elizabeth. "This is as far as my mother even comes into my room," Anne said. "She is not fond of a sick room."
Elizabeth made a small "oh" sound without meaning to. Suddenly she felt sorry for Anne having Lady Catherine for a mother.
"Do follow me," Anne said, and Dawson wheeled her toward a large walled bookcase. Dawson grasped a wall sconce, lowering it, and to Elizabeth's astonishment, the bookcase slid to the side. A dark hall became visible beyond it. Elizabeth had heard of secret chambers in rooms, but she had never actually seen one."Does your mother know?" Elizabeth said as she took in the torch-lined hall.
She stepped inside behind Anne and her maid. The bookcase snapped closed behind them.
"Of course not, Darcy, and thank goodness," Anne said.
Ahead was a door. Dawson pulled a key out of her pocket, unlocked it and pushed Anne into the dimly lit room. Elizabeth stepped in and saw candlelight flickering around the room. As the last room was empty, this one was stuffed with all kinds of home items. It held an overstuffed bookcase, and beyond that, a great table filled with flowers both dried and bright in all kinds of vases, dried herbs, apothecary bottles, several baskets, more books, and several potted plants and ferns. Incense smoke wafted lazily through the air, making it hard to take in the room all at once. Behind the table was a fireplace and several chairs with pillows and fur rugs. Every single spot seemed taken up by something more wonderful than the last, whether it was a jar of polished stones or a fat, grey cat on the chair. Elizabeth was speechless. "What a wonderful room," she said finally, turning to Anne.
Now Elizabeth stopped. Anne rose fluidly out of the chair and threw off the shawl she had wrapped around her shoulders. She shook out her thick, dark hair and pinned it back with something that looked like a piece of shiny bone.
Anne smiled now, showing straight teeth, and looking quite different from the sickly girl in the chair Elizabeth had met earlier.
"But, how?" Elizabeth said.
Anne sighed. "I know you will not understand, Darcy. I was a sickly child, so I learned about herbs and medicines to keep sound health. An apothecary taught me, as did, other healers. But when your mother is Lady Catherine, you learn life is easier if you appear sick and weak most of the time."
Elizabeth was still stunned. "So the chair is not necessary?"
Anne nodded slyly. "I learned early to keep it to myself. Healing and herbal study has an unfortunate tendency to be viewed as dangerous when done by women, even in these modern times." She lifted her eyebrows. "Can I offer you some tea? Dawson will pour us a cup."
Elizabeth nodded her head dumbly and sank into a nearby seat, struggling to take in the newfound information.
Anne's lady's maid crushed dried herbs and spices in a pot and poured hot water off the fireplace into it, letting it steep. Elizabeth watched as Dawson poured two steaming cups and set them down in front of them. When she looked up, Anne was watching her closely.
"There is something so different about you these days, Darcy. I cannot puzzle it out. You seem to have almost nothing of the boy I know from childhood."
Elizabeth felt her face grow hot and flushed. "That was a long time ago," was all she could think to say.
"There is another reason I have asked you here. I wished you to know I have no expectations for an understanding between us, despite how my mother talks."
"Your mother–"
Anne shook her head. "Despite her best efforts, she will not live forever, and I will inherit Rosings Park. Then I shall live how I wish."
"Do you not want a family?" Elizabeth said and then regretted it. It was too invasive to ask.
Still, Anne smiled. "I am not like you, Darcy, bound by duty. I simply wish to be left alone to my plants and herbs. I can do far more good with the fortune than my mother did by spending it on carriages, chaises and gowns."
Elizabeth slipped her tea, which she found was quite delicious. "I am all astonishment."
"I wished you to understand that you are under no obligations."
"That is very kind of you." Elizabeth felt a spark of admiration for Anne.
"Now we may behave like true cousins and not grimace everytime we see one another."
"I believe that is exactly how cousins behave. Or at least that is how I do when I see Colonel Fitzwilliam, and he me." Elizabeth rose and nodded to her host. "I should return to my chamber. Thank you again for your honesty,"
Elizabeth hurried through the dark hall and the sterile bed chamber Anne used as her own. As she passed through, a looking glass on the opposite wall caught her attention and she startled to see Darcy's tall reflection as she hurried by. A wild thought rose in Elizabeth's head. Perhaps Anne would be more help than she realized.