Dinner at Rosings proved a peaceful event given the parting words exchanged by the two ladies in the parlor earlier in the day. Caroline had decided to keep to her plan of behaving during the meal so that Anne and Henry might consider her attempts at seduction to be at an end.
The physician from London sat beside Caroline and paid particular attention to her every word. “Miss Bingley, you live in Town?” he asked, hoping she might see his interest in her.
She placed her fork down and forced a smile. Mr. Sampson was not the sort of man she often conversed with, but there was no need at present to offend him. “I do. I also visit my brother and his wife from time to time in Derbyshire but Town suits my needs.”
Henry asked the man a question and Caroline found herself staring at the viscount. He was quite handsome and once more she thought how unfair it was that Anne de Bourgh, a woman with a secure future bestowed upon her at birth, should make such a match.
While she was in no way destitute neither did she stand to inherit a fine estate. Her dowry was more than sufficient but there had been no keen interest from any of the men of her circle. She had passed the best days of her youth chasing after Mr. Darcy and now she was eager to be settled before she aged yet another year.
Her mind wandered as she watched Henry Amestrey in conversation with Miss de Bourgh so that when the physician asked her for a walk about the gardens she was quite surprised.
Having a man pay attention to her was a balm to her lonely heart and she readily accepted. “I would like that, sir,” she said and turned her attention to the viscount, “Perhaps Miss de Bourgh and the viscount might join us?”
Anne did not wish to spend more time with Caroline than was necessary but they were leaving come morning and so she could see no harm since Mr. Sampson would divert Miss Bingley’s attention.
Henry glanced at Anne for her approval of the invitation to walk the gardens with their guests.
With the matter settled, the party rose to leave the dining room. Henry stayed behind for a moment to speak with the butler before joining the party in the entry.
As they walked about the garden, Henry and Anne leading Mr. Sampson and Miss Bingley, the butler instructed the maids to move the viscount’s things to another room further down the hall. They were to make the room ready for the physician from London would stay the night.
Lady Catherine sat in her bed in a contemplative silence. The doctor had said he could find no reason for her illness and she was certain he had reported such to Anne. She sat up straighter in her bed and called for a maid.
“See to it that Miss Bingley is summoned. I would see here before she settles for the night.”
The maid bobbed a curtsey and hurried from the room. There was much activity in the hallway and she was pulled aside to help change the bedding in the viscount’s old room. “Why such a fuss for the physician? He could have taken another room.”
“I have no idea. Tis a request of the viscount and Miss Anne has said we must see to his needs while he is a guest,” the other maid said and set about arranging the fresh bedding, “the sooner done, the sooner we might rest.”
In the garden, Miss Bingley grew bored with the physician’s attempt at conversation and begged his forgiveness as she stepped away towards Henry and Anne.
“Miss Anne,” she called, “perhaps you might answer the physician’s questions better than I.”
Henry bristled as the woman took his free arm and pulled him along. Anne de Bourgh stared after them and waited for her mother’s doctor to take her arm and continue along the path. “Pray, sir, what questions have you that I might answer?”
Mr. Sampson appeared confused at the young woman’s question and gave a curious glance to Miss Bingley. “Why, I hadn’t meant to, that is, it seems I may have offended your lady friend.”
Anne kept a smile in place as she patted the doctor’s arm. “I shouldn’t think so Mr. Sampson. Tis very difficult to offend the woman.”
They continued their walk until rain threatened and Anne was pleased to have Henry leave Miss Bingley on the path and come to claim her hand. “I suppose her hopes are dashed once and for and all. I am sorry you were made to walk with her. Mr. Sampson had no need to speak with me particularly, twas only her scheme to spend time in your company.”
Henry glanced back at the bothersome woman and pitied the doctor. “The poor man, he came in good faith and we’ve left him with a conniving she devil.”
Anne laughed and leaned her head on Henry’s shoulder. “Yes, well, I expect he may not feel as we do. She is a handsome woman but a man such as Mr. Sampson has not enough wealth for our grasping Miss Bingley.”
Once inside, the gentlemen chose to sit in the library for a time and a maid came in search of Miss Bingley saying her ladyship wished to speak with the woman. Anne watched Miss Bingley hurry up the stairs behind the maid.
Left on her own, the young mistress of Rosings went to her rooms and readied herself for bed. Come the morning, she would be free of Rosings and her mother and seek her future with Henry.
Caroline Bingley hastened to Lady Catherine’s rooms reciting over in her head the details of her final plan to snare Henry Amestrey. There could be little else the mistress of Rosings wished to discuss.
She followed the maid and steeled herself for the anger of her hostess. Lady Catherine sat before the fireplace and motioned for Caroline to join her there. “Miss Bingley, surely you are aware my daughter plans to leave Rosings in the morning. I take it you have not, as yet, been successful?”
Caroline began to speak but the woman raised a hand. “There is the night left to us. You will go to the viscount’s rooms and accomplish your task before morning. My daughter shall not go against me and leave this house with the upper hand. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, your ladyship, quite clear. I shall be in his room but how shall Miss Anne discover us?” Caroline asked.
“I shall walk with her down the hallway and stop outside his door. Listen for my voice and come creeping out. Be certain there is no mistaking your guilt at being caught.” With a nod of her head, Lady Catherine dismissed her guest.
Caroline Bingley felt a chill up crawl up her spine as she stepped into the dark hallway and felt her way along the wall to the room she knew to be that of Henry Amestrey. She hesitated as her hand rested on his door. If her plan worked as Lady Catherine hoped, she would herself become a lady.
Grinning foolishly as images of being the mistress of a grand country estate flitted through her mind, she eased open the door and slowly made her way inside. She hadn’t dared risk a candle for fear of being caught but she could make out the large bed to her right and the figure that slept soundly on one side, facing away from her.
There was but an hour before the household would again prepare for another day and she slid quietly into the bed thrilling at the warmth radiating from the man beside her.
She longed to move closer but dared not, consoling herself with the idea of waking up next to the dashing, handsome viscount in the years to come. He would be angry with her at first, but what man might refuse a woman who shared his bed and his home forever?
A dull ache pierced her heart that the man was not Mr. Darcy, would never be for she had lost him to a woman not half as accomplished. This time, she would be the victor and Miss Anne de Bourgh would be dealt the humiliation.
In her room just a few doors away, Lady Catherine rang for her maid and sent the woman to summon her daughter. She made her hands shake and her voice tremble. “Tell her she must come, for I have had a terrible dream.”
The maid hurried quietly down the hall and entered the rooms of Miss Anne. She gently pulled back the drapes slightly and shook the young mistress from sleep. “Your mother has need of you, mistress. Please come.”
Anne rubbed her eyes, trying to awaken herself completely as she took her dressing gown from the maid. “Is she well?”
The maid shook her head. “I do not know, miss. She is upset by a dream, her face pale and drawn.”
Anne dismissed the maid and went to her mother. She would not stay at Rosings out of pity. This bad dream was likely nothing more than her mother’s last effort to prey upon her role as daughter.
“Mother,” she said as she entered the room, “shall I send for Mr. Sampson? He stayed the night and would exam you once more before he leaves.”
Lady Catherine sobbed into her hands and Anne’s resolve weakened. She went to sit beside her mother and ran a hand in gentle circles upon her back. “Tis nothing but a dream, mother. I am here.”
Lady Catherine leaned into her daughter and took her hand. “Will you walk with me in the hall? I must escape this room. I cannot bear to be alone here another minute.”
Anne stood and helped her mother to her feet. “Only for a while, mother, and then we shall have Mr. Sampson come see to you.”
Lady Catherine nodded and held her arms out as Anne helped her into her own dressing gown. How many times had she wished to walk and talk with her mother in the many lonely years of growing up at Rosings?
She watched her mother’s face as they gained the hallway and began a slow trek to the windows at the far end away from the staircase. The maids had lit the candles here and there and the flickering lights bathed the passage in a comforting glow.
Lady Catherine sighed deeply and turned to Anne. “Thank you my dear. I cannot bear to be shut up in that room for another moment. Must you leave today and not another? Surely your Henry might be persuaded on my account?”
Anne wondered at the desperation in her mother’s voice. The woman was grasping now, hoping to find a thread of weakness in her daughter. The truth of it made her recall Lady Anne’s tale of betrayal. “Mother, Henry would not, nor would I. You have no need of me now just as you had no need of your dear sister when she stood in the way of your desires. I ought to have been her daughter.”
Lady Catherine pulled away from Anne and placed a hand across her heart as though grievously wounded. “You know nothing of a life lived in the shadow of a sister so dearly loved as to shadow all that you do,” her voice rose as she leaned against the wall, “nothing of having to fight for the attention of your own father and mother!”
Anne’s anger flared and she took her mother by the arm. “I know everything about being invisible to my own mother until I became nothing more than a pawn you moved as you saw fit. Even my name is a scheme to add insult to injury.”
The door beside them opened and Caroline Bingley backed out of Henry Amestrey’s room. Lady Catherine feigned anger though her daughter’s words made it appear genuine.