PP AU NON-CANON GENERAL REGENCY

Ashes to Honor

Previously:

"You would not mind?" Larissa admitted she was playing coward on that one. "I must confess I should, but I fear they will think I am simply marrying you for your title and the fact you spent time in the military. And, in my younger days, they would have been correct."

"I would not mind." Fredrick smiled and led her back into his sister's home; they would tell his family the news first and then they would deal with Larissa's family next.

Party at Longbourn

Ch. 17

Fredrick may have been getting ready to take care of Anthony's mess and be getting his family ready to travel down south; however, William Collins was busy hosting a party for all his friends, or men he claimed as friends. Plus, anyone he deemed worthy to grace the grounds of Longbourn, and that included Lady Catherine.

The dining room of Longbourn had been changed into a more formal setting for the evening's festivities. The long oak table was adorned with fine China, crystal glasses, and an array of exquisite dishes. Silver candelabras cast a warm glow, their flickering flames reflecting off the opulent gold-trimmed walls. The room buzzed with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses as guests mingled not only in the dining room but in the parlor as well.

Mr. Collins, the ever-pompous host, moved among his guests from room to room with a wide, self-satisfied smile. His eyes sparkled with a sense of accomplishment as he greeted each attendee with exaggerated warmth. His suit was immaculate, and he carried himself with an air of importance.

"Lady Catherine, it is an honor to have you grace us with your presence," William said, bowing deeply to the formidable matriarch as she was greeted at the door. Lady Catherine gave him a slight nod of her head and then scanned the room as if assessing the worthiness of the company.

"Indeed, Mr. Collins," she replied with a hint of sharpness in her tone. "I trust the arrangements are to my specifications."

"Of course, Lady Catherine, I made sure Mrs. Collins understood them," he replied, his voice dripping with flattery, "For you understand how to host parties far better than she and her parents could not make it due to obligations to their eldest."

Nearby, Aimee Collins stood quietly, her delicate frame almost blending into the background. She wore a simple yet elegant gown, her mannerisms subdued though the lady fumed inside. She moved about the room with practiced grace, offering polite smiles and murmured pleasantries. Mrs. Collins knew her primary role this evening was to smooth over any awkward moments and ensure the guests were comfortable.

She approached a small group engaged in conversation, tactfully inserting herself into a group where a disagreement about the proper etiquette of the day's events was brewing.

"I believe it is best to follow the tradition that has always guided us," Aimee spoke quietly knowing an assertive answer would only add fuel to an unnecessary fire. Her efforts paid off and the group's discussion changed to more pleasant topics.

In a far corner of the parlor, James moved quietly among the guests, almost as if he were not there. He still had his reserved nature, and the young servant boy still felt out of place with this crowd invited over to Longbourn. Nonetheless, James knew his task, and knew it well makes sure Mr. Collins' guests' glasses were never empty and their plates always filled.

James carefully refilled a glass of wine but avoided any direct contact with the guests. He was not deaf though and overheard snippets of conversation. Nonetheless, they all seemed distant, almost like a backdrop to his own internal monologue. Despite doing his job, the boy was not a fool, he knew one man would be watching closely and that was Mr. Collins.

James was correct. Mr. Collins caught sight of James and narrowed his eyes, watching the boy's every move with a critical gaze. It was as if he dare not let the boy out of his sight. As if the boy would mess up so bad it would cause Longbourn to crumble. However, that did not happen.

Aimee had come into the parlor along with all the other guests from the dining room and observed James from across the room. Her heart still aching for the boy. She was no fool. Anyone with half a brain knew the pressure he was under, William's wrath was no secret to any of the servants. However, she dared not approach her husband, fearing that any interaction might bring unwanted attention to both of them. Instead, she offered James an encouraging smile whenever their eyes briefly met, hoping it would help him in some way.

James's anxiety was in existence, but the boy kept his composure, performing his duties as had been shown him upon first arriving at Longbourn. He cleared empty plates from tables, his movements swift and efficient, blending back into the background as the evening progressed.

The room was filled with music and animated conversations, guests seemingly oblivious to the undercurrents of tension that simmered just beneath the surface. Aimee moved through the crowd gathered in her home, her presence a calming influence that helped maintain the evening's decorum despite how her own hidden opinions were on the matter.

As the night wore on, the guests began to take their leave, expressing their gratitude to Mr. and Mrs. Collins for the delightful evening. William basked in their praise, his chest puffed out showing just how much undue credit he was taking upon himself for the success of the party.

"Thank you all for coming," he said, his voice filling the hallway as the guests left. "It has been an honor to host such beloved company."

Aimee stood beside him; her smile painted on more than anything else. She nodded graciously to each departing guest, her eyes occasionally flicking to James, who continued his quiet duties.

When the last guest had finally left, the rooms of Longbourn seemed to sigh with just as much relief as Aimee felt inside. The lady allowed herself a moment to relax, sinking into a chair with a quiet sigh.

James approached her hesitantly, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Mrs. Collins," he whispered, his voice barely audible. He dared not speak too loud for fear her husband may hear him speaking.

Aimee smiled softly. "You did well tonight, James. Now go and get some rest."

The boy did not argue and left without saying another word, leaving Aimee to gather her thoughts. She looked around the room, taking in what remained of the evening. What was seen as the beauty and noise of the evening was a stark contrast to the quiet loneliness that was the common companion of Longbourn.

As William Collins continued to strut around in his own self-importance, Aimee closed her eyes for a moment, seeking solace in the brief respite from the evening's demands. Trying not to focus on what tomorrow may, or may not, bring.