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CHAPTER 9
Rosings Park
- April 1815
A miserable Colonel
Richard Fitzwilliam rode slowly through the town of Hunsford
towards Rosings Park. He acknowledged the wave of welcome from
the Clarke household. As well I might; thanks to me your income
just doubled, he thought. Within a few minutes he passed
the parsonage and saw the Reverend Mr. Collins attending his
garden.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam!"
he cried, "How good to see you again so soon. What a pleasure
it is to have the company of such an august gentleman as yourself,
unselfishly serving our King…"
Richard allowed
the man to prattle on; the vicar meant well and Mrs. Collins
was a good friend to Anne. Within a few minutes the lady of the
house came out to join them. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, you are
welcome indeed! Please take a few moments to step inside?"
Something in Mrs. Collins' demeanor encouraged Richard to agree
to her suggestion. Richard knew he had chosen well when Mrs.
Collins declared to her husband, "Mr. Collins, what are
you about? The meeting of the church lay council starts within
the half hour!" She effectively shooed the man upstairs
to "make himself presentable" before returning to their
guest.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam,
I am glad we have had this few moments to talk in private,"
Mrs. Collins began. "Things have been very strained at Rosings
since you left. Your orders have improved things in the village,
I dare say. Even Mr. Collins will agree - in private. But Lady
Catherine has been…very unhappy since your departure in
February. I am afraid Miss Anne has taken the brunt of her abuse."
Richard turned white
with anger. "Is that so? Why has my father not been informed?"
"Because Miss
Anne would not permit it," came from the hallway.
The two turned at
the sound of their interrupter. Mr. Collins stood at the foot
of the stairs, his cravat in his hand to be tied. "Mr. Collins!"
exclaimed his wife. "I…"
"No need to
apologize, my dear." He crossed over to her and laid his
hand on her shoulder. "I have given far too much of my attentions
to our unworthy patroness and not enough to the mother of my
children. I have not lived up to my own sermons. It is I who
needs forgiveness. It is no wonder that you do not confide in
me. I shall labor to earn your trust." Mrs. Collins looked
upon him is absolute shock.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam,
as I said before, I am very glad you are here. Miss Anne has
been most unhappy. Lady Catherine, I am not pleased to report,
has been very unkind to her - indeed to the whole household.
Why she even had cross words for Mrs. Collins just last week!
It is becoming intolerable. I have attempted as her pastor, in
the most respectful manner, to advise Lady Catherine; to get
her to see the errors of her ways; but to no avail. I would do
more, but…you see, my family…" Mr. Collins threw
up his hands in defeat.
Richard's heart
was touched. "Fear not, sir. I pledge to you that your family
is in no danger. I speak for my father, the Earl of Matlock,
and my cousin, Fitzwilliam Darcy, in this matter."
To Richard's embarrassment,
tears came to the man's eyes. "Oh, Colonel, you cannot know
what a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. That you would
turn your attentions to such an unworthy as myself is beyond
any reward I could hope for. Speak! Ask any question - I and
my wife are at your disposal." Mr. Collins had clearly switched
his alliance to the family of Matlock.
"But your meeting,
sir?" asked Richard. "I am delaying you…"
Mrs. Collins rose
to her feet. "I shall advise them that you are in a most
important meeting with Colonel Fitzwilliam, my dear,"
she told her husband. She turned to Richard. "They shall
understand - your name is upon everyone lips as the savior of
Hunsford."
A half hour later,
a better advised Richard Fitzwilliam rode to the doors of Rosings.
Handing the reins to the stablehand he ascended the steps and
announced himself at the door. The doorman was clearly nervous;
he begged the colonel to wait upon his Ladyship's pleasure.
"Nonsense,
man - you know who I am!" Richard declared in false good
humor. "I'll just let myself in - no need to bother Aunt
Catherine. That's a good man…" Richard slipped past
the doorman and went in search of Mrs. Parks. He found her in
the empty breakfast parlor.
"Colonel Fitzwilliam!"
she cried. "When did you arrive, sir? Are you staying long?"
"No, madam;
just to have a word or two with Lady Catherine and Miss Anne.
But first I would speak with you. I understand things have been
difficult lately. What may I do?"
"Oh, sir; do
not worry yourself on my behalf! I am fine - I know my duty.
I will do what I can for the staff. Please, you must save your
efforts for Miss Anne."
"The Collinses
said the same. What is going on?"
"Sir, I believe
Lady Catherine is planning to take Miss Anne away - to Bath."
"That is my
understanding. Why is this a concern?"
"Lady Catherine
has been after her…to improve herself…to attract a
suitor…"
Richard paused before
the great doors of the sitting room, steeling himself for the
interview to come. "You may announce me," he said to
the butler.
A moment later,
he heard, "You may come in, Richard."
Richard entered
the elaborate sitting room and saw that his aunt sitting in her
usual chair at the far end. She seemed as a spider in the center
of her web. A slight smile seemed to dance upon her lips. "Ah,
the savior of Hunsford returns! To what do I owe this visit,
nephew?"
"Aunt, do I
need a reason to visit?"
"Do not play
games with me, boy. Always I have been celebrated for my frankness
of character; I expect nothing less from any of my family."
Of course you do, thought Richard. "Why have you
returned?"
"To bid you
farewell: I am off to the Continent to face Bonaparte."
This declaration
seemed to take Lady Catherine by surprise. After a silence of
a few moments, she said, "I am afraid I do not understand
your meaning. Is not the tyrant held captive on some small island;
in the Mediterranean, perhaps? Why would you need to face him?
Does he need to be arrested?"
Richard was stunned.
Does she not know what has happened? "Bonaparte has
escaped Elba. He is back in Paris - the French King has fled.
The Emperor has raised an army. Britain goes to fight him yet
again."
Lady Catherine was
affronted. "Escaped? Surely someone has not done their duty.
I assume it was one of those foreign types that was responsible.
Such a thing would not happen if an Englishman was in charge."
"I am sure
you are correct. In any case it falls upon us who wear the King's
uniform to set things right."
"When do you
leave?"
"The regiment
sails in May."
"Then you go
with my blessing. Was there anything else?"
"I would like
to speak to Anne before I go."
"Yes,"
she looked at him narrowly, "I suppose you do."
Richard became wary.
"Is she about? My time is short. I must leave soon."
"What business
do you have with my daughter, sir?" Lady Catherine demanded.
"To take my
leave of her, as I have done with yourself."
"And is that
all?"
"I am afraid
I do not take your meaning, madam."
"I am sure
that you do, sir. Oh, yes…I know much more than you
think."
"I do not think
I like what you are insinuating, Aunt. Are you accusing me of
improper behavior?"
"Is it proper
to make love to my daughter under my very nose?"
"Madam!"
Richard fought hard not to lose his temper; he must not fall
into Lady Catherine's trap. "I do not know what lies you
have been told, nor do I wish to hear such vile accusations made
against your daughter. Let me simply assure you that I hold Anne
in the highest regard and respect, and would let nothing damage
her reputation while I have breath in this body."
"A very pretty
speech, sir. Yes, very pretty. Do you think me blind? I watched
you 'take your leave' of Anne in February. What other liberties
have you been permitted? Answer me, sir!"
"Lady Catherine,
I shall not dignify that question with an answer. By God, if
you were a man…" Again Richard struggled to retain
control. "I have nothing to say to you about Anne at this
time, except this: my intentions in matters of this kind have
always been honorable. Is it your belief that I have compromised
your daughter? If so, than I am prepared to do the right thing
by her." Come Aunt, make my dreams come true.
"Oh, no - you
shall not have your way that easily. I know that it is Rosings
Park, not Anne, that is your desire - and that you shall never
have!" Lady Catherine grew into a passion.
"I care nothing
for Rosings. Besides, Rosings belongs to Anne, not you - as you
well know."
"Only because
of the legal chicanery of your father and uncle! But Anne is
my daughter - she needs my permission to marry."
"Anne is of
legal age."
"Anne shall
do as she is told! Already I have made preparations - begun inquiries.
Anne will be united to a proper family, one that is worthy of
a de Bourgh!"
"One that can
be manipulated, as well. Such a complying man shall be hard to
find. Do you believe you will find such a person in Bath?"
His aunt sneered.
"Bath - London - it matters not. I know Anne shall not travel
to Derbyshire again!"
Richard looked at
his aunt with as much composure as he could manage. "You
would condemn your daughter to a loveless marriage - just so
you can hold on to Rosings?"
"Love?"
Lady Catherine raged. "You speak the same foolishness as
your cousin! Pemberley has been polluted forever by that…creature
Darcy married. Anne will have an estate of her own and I shall
prevent you and my hateful brother from stealing Rosings from
me!"
"And if Anne
refuses to cooperate?"
"She would
not dare! However, if none of my…candidates are suitable,
Anne and I will live here comfortably for the rest of our lives."
Richard stood in
awe of his aunt's selfish, ignorant maliciousness. One word from
Anne would destroy her whole world. She was of legal age - she
could marry anyone she chose. He wondered if his aunt was quite
sane. "I think there is nothing more we can say about this,
or any other matter. I will leave you now. Farewell, Aunt."
Richard turned to leave.
"Richard!"
Lady Catherine called out. "I have not forgotten how you
mistreated me when last you were here. You dare to speak to me
without first offering me your apology? I am most severely displeased!"
Richard halted before
the door. With one hand on the knob he said, "Do not worry,
my lady. With any luck, the French may solve your problem with
me forever." At that, Richard left the sitting room, closing
the door behind him.
Richard stormed
though the halls, trying to control his emotions, when he came
upon Mrs. Parks again. She looked at him with compassion and
simply said, "She is in the gardens, sir."
With a smile, he
thanked the housekeeper and dashed out the doors. Anne stood
in almost the same spot as in February looking at the new buds.
"Anne!" he called as he ran to her. She, in turn, rose
and waved to him, her smile heartbreaking in its beauty. He reached
her and took her hands in his. "Ah, the pretty buds of April,
and here is the prettiest!"
"Oh, Richard,
it is so good to see you - even if you do say such lies."
You came back for me! she thought with joy.
To Richard's concern
he found that he did exaggerate Anne's looks - there were circles
under her eyes and she looked as if she had eaten ill for some
time. Oh, Anne, how horrible has it been for you?
Anne's eyes took
her cousin in. "Richard? Why do you wear your sword?"
"Do not worry
about that, my dear. Let me look at you." Quieter, he asked,
"Why did you not send for me?"
"There is nothing
she can do to hurt me. Are you here long?"
"No - I must
leave for London soon…"
"Did you bring
the coach? I did not see it…" She looked around him
and saw only his horse. Anne turned back to him. "You rode?"
Suddenly there was a sinking feeling in her stomach. "Richard,
why are you here?"
"Anne…I…"
Realization came
to her. "It's the crisis, isn't it? You're going back…back
to fight Bonaparte…" Unlike her mother, she had been
reading the newspapers.
Gravely, Richard
answered, "Yes Anne."
"Oh, God,"
She laid her head on his chest. "When?" she whispered.
"We sail in
May…I came to…I had to see you before…"
In a small breaking
voice she said, "I thought you had come back for me…"
Richard was in anguish.
He took Anne's face in his hands and stared into her eyes, memorizing
every lovely feature. "Anne…there is so much I wish
to say…but now is not the time…oh, my dearest…"
Anne began shaking
her head, her eyes swimming in tears. As her small fists began
beating on him she cried, "No, no…not now…How
can you say these things to me now? Now that you are leaving
me? Maybe never to return? How cruel…I cannot stand it…leave
me, let me go…please…." She broke away from Richard
and fled into the house.
Richard stood like
a statue watching her flee. Then slowly he sat on the bench behind
him, removing his hat and holding his face in his hands.
Anne rushed past
the housekeeper and up the stairs. She had her choice of her
rooms to run to. By very good fortune she chose her sitting room.
There she found Mrs. Jenkinson. "My goodness!" the
woman cried as she rose from her chair. "Whatever is the
matter?"
Anne, her face swimming
in tears, hesitated and then embraced her companion. "It…it
is Richard…he is going away…to France…"
"To France?
Whatever for?"
"The war…Bonaparte
- he goes to fight Bonaparte…he didn't come for me…goodbye
- he came to say goodbye…oh, I cannot bear it…"
Mrs. Jenkinson was
distraught, but she kept her wits about her. "Oh my dear,"
she told her girl, "how distressing - what you must be feeling."
She allowed Anne to weep for a few moments more before asking,
"How did you leave it with the Colonel, Anne?"
"W…what?
Leave it…?"
"Anne!"
Mrs. Jenkinson asked sharply yet kindly, "What did you do?"
"Do? I did
nothing. I…I fled…"
"Oh, my girl,
what are you thinking? Colonel Fitzwilliam comes here to bid
you farewell - forgive me, but perhaps for the last time - and
you just run away?"
Anne's tears stopped
as she realized the extent of her blunder. Her eyes grew wide
and panicked.
"He goes to
war, my dear," Mrs. Jenkinson continued. "Have you
any idea what he shall be going through in the weeks to come?
Perhaps the only comfort he shall have will be the knowledge
that those he cares for at home are thinking of him. Oh, my love,
you cannot be this cruel." She held her charge at arm's
length. "Anne - no secrets now - do you love him?"
Eyes downward, Anne
said, "With all my heart. Oh, Mrs. Jenkinson - what shall
I do?"
Mrs. Jenkinson raised
Anne's head with her hand under the girl's chin and looked into
her charge's eyes. "You must let him know."
"Oh…where
is paper?" Anne dashed for her desk.
Mrs. Jenkinson moved
towards the door. "Quickly as ever you can, my dear…we
will delay him…"
Colonel Fitzwilliam
knew not how long he sat in the garden. Finally the sound of
hooves against cobblestones brought him back to himself. He slowly
rose to his feet, took one last look at the door Anne had rushed
into, and turned to leave.
As he approached
the front of the house, Richard saw that most of the household
staff had gathered on the front steps, Mrs. Parks and Mrs. Jenkinson
among them. The housekeeper approached him. "Colonel Fitzwilliam,
the staff wanted to see you off as you go to serve the King in
defense of the country. We wanted you to know that you have done
good service here at Rosings and Hunsford, and that we all shall
be praying for your safe return." A murmur of "Here,
here," rose among the throng. First the butler, than others
came forward to offer their hand. While shaking hands and accepting
good wishes, Richard noted that the crowd began to part.
There at the open
front door stood Anne, looking regal and beautiful - every inch
the de Bourgh. She walked down the steps and stopped a few feet
from Richard. After giving him an imperial look, she turned to
the servants. "It is well that we do homage to Colonel Fitzwilliam.
While we stay here safely at home, involved in our daily tasks,
he goes across the seas to join our troops to face the tyrant
of France - the monster who endangers freedom everywhere."
She turned back to Richard. "Colonel, you go to battle with
our thanks and prayers. Do honor to our gracious majesty, George
III, and return home safely to us. God save the King!"
"God save the
King!" repeated the crowd.
"Colonel, here
is an additional report from the steward - he entrusted it to
me to be delivered to you." Anne handed Richard an envelope.
"Goodbye, cousin; and Godspeed!" She held out her hand.
A very confused
Richard gave Anne's hand the most perfunctory of kisses before
turning to mount his horse. As he did so, a shout arose from
the gathered servants: "Three cheers for Colonel Fitzwilliam!"
"HIP, HIP,
HURAH! HIP, HIP, HURAH! HIP, HIP, HURAH!" All cheered lustily;
including Anne. Richard awkwardly tipped his hat at the recognition
and rode off, the people of Rosings waving until he was out of
sight.
Richard spent the
first half of his journey to London in quiet misery. Over and
over he thought about what had happened - and what he might have
done differently. Anne's contrariness confounded him - one moment
she was embracing him; the next she was running away. Her farewell
was particularly confusing; she acted as he might expect Lady
Catherine to act. Had he misjudged her feelings? No other answer
occurred to him.
After about an hour,
while walking his horse, Richard recalled the letter from the
steward. Deciding to occupy his mind with estate issues rather
than romantic ones, the colonel took the letter from his inside
coat pocket and opened it. To his surprise, the note had only
three words written on it:
I love you.
Richard stopped
his horse and stared at the note for what seemed an eternity,
working to believe what he was seeing. Finally, reality was triumphant;
joy overspread his features and a shout of glee escaped his lips.
There was no doubt who had written the beautiful words; Richard
knew Anne's hand very well. All of his doubt erased, the colonel
looked about him in happy confusion. To his horse he said: "Look!
You see? Ha, ha! She loves me - Anne loves me! Hurrah! Oh, the
world is wonderful! Ha, ha! Oh, I think I shall grow mad with
happiness!" He began to dance in front of his mount. "Oh,
oh, what shall I do? Shall I return to Rosings? Yes - I shall
see my sweet Anne again…speak to my aunt-"
Richard stopped
short - reality was triumphant again. He knew he could not successfully
face Lady Catherine again. What to do? he thought vigorously.
I cannot return to Rosings - Aunt Catherine would never give
her consent. Anne would come away with me, I am sure. But should
I ignite war within the family now, just as I am going to France?
No, that would be selfish. But I must respond! Anne must know
that I return her feelings - oh, what a brave, wonderful woman!
To take such a chance…the exposure - I must protect her.
But how to communicate with her? I cannot write to anyone at
Rosings save Aunt Catherine…and there is no solution there!
Wait! Mrs. Parks or the steward or Mrs. Jenkinson? No, that would
not serve…I cannot ask them to be part of such a conspiracy.
But who…?
Another moment's
thought and Richard leapt upon his horse. He spurred his mount
towards London and the one person who could help him.
London
The Darcy family
was just sitting down to tea when the butler announced Colonel
Fitzwilliam. "Richard!" said Elizabeth. "Welcome
to Darcy House. We were just sitting down to tea - would you
join us?"
Richard bowed to
his cousins. "That would be most agreeable."
Darcy eyed him.
"You have ridden hard, I think. Perhaps something stronger
than tea?"
"No, cousin;
perhaps later. Tea is just the thing to set me up."
"Richard, I
am so glad to see you again," said Georgiana. "I thought
when you took your leave of us last week we should not meet again
until you returned from…well, you know…"
Richard smiled at
his ward. "I must report to my regiment tomorrow, but tonight
I have business here."
Darcy became alert.
"I see…shall we adjourn to the library then, Richard?"
"Darcy, Darcy,
I did not say my business was with you. I must speak with
Georgiana." He turned to the girl. "My dear, I need
your help…"
"Richard, I
cannot say I like this scheme of yours," complained Darcy.
"Why not, brother?"
asked Georgiana. "I think it is perfectly reasonable. Besides,
he asked me, not you."
Darcy frowned. When
he married he had hoped that Elizabeth and her sisters would
have a lively effect upon Georgiana, but not this lively. "Georgiana,
I am still your guardian…"
"Yes, husband,"
injected Elizabeth, who handed Anne's note back to Richard. "And
a most reasonable one you have been," she added with a raised
eyebrow. An unmistakable signal: Trust me in this.
Darcy groaned inward.
There was no winning this battle, as he had learned upon previous
occasions. Anyway, he thought, she was usually right.
"I will allow this…slightly improper plot," Darcy
said magnanimously, "as long it is under Mrs. Darcy's supervision."
There; it is your fault should things go badly.
"My husband
is most wise," Elizabeth said with only the smallest twinkle
in her eye. "Richard, you will give your sealed note to
me. Georgiana, I am afraid I must approve of your letter to Anne
prior to it being sent along with Richard's note enclosed."
Both Richard and Georgiana agreed to the conditions.
Lizzy's twinkle
did not escape Darcy's notice. You shall pay for that, my
love, he promised with a slight smile, tonight.
Of course I shall,
darling, Lizzy's expression
said in return.
Rosings Park
Anne paced her rooms
like a caged wild cat. Since her impulsive act of actually giving
Richard such a blatant, unladylike declaration of her feelings,
her emotions had swung between mortification and anxiety. She
longed to hear from Richard and frightened to know what he thought
of her rash action. She could not go out of doors - the April
rains had come with a vengeance - and there was no relief downstairs,
with her mother's incessant plans for Bath.
Mrs. Jenkinson looked
upon her charge with a sense of helplessness. She knew her advice
to Anne was sound. Everything now depended on the Colonel to
act in such a way as to comfort Anne. How it was to be accomplished
she did not know. Mrs. Jenkinson had half-expected Colonel Fitzwilliam
to have returned by now; surely he had read Anne's note. She
did not know what was in it, but it was not hard to guess. Yet
it had now been three days and there was no sign of the man.
She worried: had she misjudged the colonel?
The two women's
ruminations ended with a knock at the door. Mrs. Jenkinson opened
it to find Mrs. Parks herself with a letter for Anne from Georgiana
Darcy. From the look of the housekeeper it was certain that Mrs.
Parks felt that the only way to prevent Lady Catherine from intercepting
Anne's mail was to deliver it herself.
"Anne,"
said her companion, "here is a letter for you; 'tis from
Miss Georgiana."
"Thank you,
Mrs. Jenkinson. Please excuse me; I shall read it in my bedroom."
"Go on, my
dear," Mrs. Jenkinson replied. To Mrs. Parks she said after
Anne had left them, "Thank you missus; she's been quite
low these last two days."
"'Tis no trouble;"
said Mrs. Parks. "I am glad to be of service to dear Miss
Anne. I only hope that we have not placed our trust in an unworthy
gentleman."
"I cannot believe
him to be so…" Mrs. Jenkinson began.
"WHEE!"
The two women looked
in surprise at the unusual sound that came out of Anne de Bourgh's
bedroom. A few minutes later the occupant emerged, relatively
composed, save for the heighten color on her cheeks.
"Mrs. Parks,
there will be a letter for Miss Darcy; please see that it is
posted directly," said Anne.
"Yes, Miss,"
responded a puzzled housekeeper.
"Mrs. Jenkinson,
please excuse me, but I must see to this letter at once."
"Of course,
Anne. I'll just see to dinner, shall I?" The two older women
gave each other a look.
As Anne reached
her writing desk she added, "Oh, by the way; Mrs. Jenkinson,
please be so kind as to inform my mother that I shall not be
accompanying her to Bath - not next month or any time in the
future. Thank you; that is all."
Mrs. Parks and Mrs.
Jenkinson walked down the hall with huge grins on their faces.
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