I was at the Pump Room by a quarter to ten and I contented myself with strolling round until I saw Anne enter the room out of the corner of my eye. To my delight she was not with her mother but was instead with her companion. I walked over to the Pump, timing myself so that I arrived there with Anne.
‘Why, if it isn’t Miss Anne!’ I said in feigned surprise.
‘Mr Wickham,’ she said, with real surprise.
‘What a strange chance meeting you here. What brings you to Bath?’
‘I am here to drink the waters. My health is not good, alas.’
‘I am here for the same purpose. I have had one or two trifling ailments recently and my physician felt it would set me up to come to Bath for a few weeks.’
We both took our glasses of the water and I was forced to drink the noxious stuff. I tried not to grimace, and Anne did the same, and we laughed together.
‘It is horrible, is it not?’ I said.
‘It is,’ she agreed.
‘Look, over there, there is a chair, Miss Anne,’ said her companion, trying to get her away from me.
But I was not to be so easily shaken.
‘Let me escort you,’ I said.
I gave her my arm and led her to the chair. Her companion glowered at me but I ignored her sour looks and said, ‘I was very sorry to hear about Mr Darcy—old Mr Darcy, that is. It was a sad loss when he passed away.’
‘Oh yes, it was,’ she said.
‘He was always a great friend to me,’ I said respectfully. ‘I believe he loved me almost as another son, and in return I loved him almost as another father. He had high hopes for me, and it has been the purpose of my life to make sure that I realise his dreams. He gave me the benefit of a gentleman’s education and a gentleman’s life at Pemberley, and I will always be thankful to him for his generosity in both deed and spirit.’
She smiled and said he had always been very kind to her, and the companion looked somewhat mollified at the idea that I was a gentleman and an intimate at Pemberley.
We were just beginning to get along very well when Lady Catherine arrived, throwing a gloom over the whole party. Anne’s expression, which had started to become more animated, closed entirely, and the companion seemed ill at ease.
Lady Catherine looked at me pointedly.
‘Your face is familiar,’ she said.
‘George Wickham,’ I said, bowing. ‘I had the pleasure of meeting you at Pemberley.’
‘Ah, yes, I remember now,’ she said, and I felt myself begin to relax. But then she said dismissively, ‘The steward’s son.’ Then, turning away from me she said, ‘Come, Anne, finish your drink; we are due at Lady Eleanor’s in half an hour.’
Anne finished the noxious liquid and then, without so much as a glance at me, followed her mother from the room.
I do not intend to be so easily dismissed, however. I am sure that Anne is willing to know me, even if her mother is not. I discovered from other visitors that Miss de Bourgh frequents the library on a Thursday afternoon, and so, on Thursday, to the library I shall go.