Chapter 12

“Anne,” said Lady Matlock as she entered Anne’s room. “Everything is ready. Your guests will be gathering on the lawn soon.” She cocked her head to the side and smiled. “You do look lovely, my dear. Pink is very becoming on you.” She turned to leave. “And your mother has decided to join us.”

“My mother?” Anne turned toward her aunt. “My mother is joining us?” she asked incredulously.

Lady Matlock stood near the door. “She is, as is your uncle. He assures me her attitude is still changed. They have been enjoying each other’s company and re-establishing what they once had.”

“But my mother does not like to eat out of doors. She claims it is uncivilized and beneath her.”

“Well, today it is not, and neither is riding.”

“Riding? Mother does not ride.”

“Today she does,” Lady Matlock replied with a laugh.

Anne shook her head in disbelief. Her mother had said she was a changed woman, but Anne had no idea she would be changed to such an extent. She snatched up her bonnet and followed her aunt to the garden to await her guests.

“Mother, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“I would not miss my daughter’s celebration of her birth.” Lady Catherine stepped closer to Anne and gave her an awkward hug and a peck on the cheek.

“Of course not, Mother, but I expected you for dinner, not the picnic.” Anne could not hide her shock.

Lord Matlock chuckled. “Catherine loved nothing better than a picnic when we were young. She was often scolded for taking her tea to the garden.”

“I have not been on a picnic in years. It is about time I start enjoying life again, no matter the memories it may unearth.” Lady Catherine looked out across the garden as if remembering some fond excursion. “The last picnic I attended was rather secretive. It was one of the times I stole away to see Adrian. In fact, it was the day before the Leightons’ ball.” She shook her head to clear the memories. “But today is not about what was or could have been; it is about what is. Now, when do we depart?”

“As soon as everyone gathers,” replied Lady Matlock.

“I say, it is a nice day for an excursion,” declared Bingley as he approached the group. Anne watched as her mother’s face grew pale, and she leaned a bit on her brother’s arm.

Bingley bowed as he joined them. “Good morning, Miss de Bourgh.”

“Good morning, Mr. Bingley.”

“Bingley?” Lady Catherine’s voice had an odd squeak to it.

“Yes, Mother, this is Mr. Bingley, Darcy’s friend. Mr. Bingley, my mother, Lady Catherine.”

“Bingley?” Lady Catherine squeaked once more. “A relation to Herbert Bingley?”

“Yes, ma’am. He was my father.”

“He was married to Susanna Cranfield?” Lady Catherine swayed.

“Yes, she is my mother, and Miss de Bourgh has been kind enough to invite her brother, who is my uncle, to join us for dinner this evening, though I suspect he will be an early arrival.”

“Adrian? Adrian Cranfield?”

“Yes, my lady.” Bingley began to look decidedly nervous.

“Mr. Adrian Cranfield will be here, this evening?” Lady Catherine clutched her brother’s arm and swayed again. “You….you…look just like him.”

Lord Matlock caught her as she swooned. “You there,” he called to a footman. “Help me get her to the parlour.” Carefully, they carried her into the house and placed her on the couch while a maid scurried to retrieve smelling salts and cool water.

“Was it something I said?” Bingley paced about the room. “I am terribly sorry, although I am not quite sure for what I am sorry.” He wrung his hands and sat down in a chair but just on the edge as if he might decide to move again.

Lady Matlock studied Bingley for a few moments. “Catherine is right. You do look a great deal like your uncle.”

“I take after mother’s side of the family.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Do you know my uncle?”

“I do, but not so well as my husband or Lady Catherine does. I did not know Susanna’s married name. We did not travel in the same circles.”

Bingley gave an amused huff. “I should think not. My father was through and through a tradesman. He had little use for the upper class save to take their money for his services.” He looked nervously at Lord Matlock. “I mean no disrespect. I am merely sharing my father’s views, which differ from my own.”

“If he disliked the upper class so, then why has he stipulated that you use the money he left you to buy an estate?” Jane asked softly.

“My mother and uncle insisted that being a landed gentleman would afford my children and me greater opportunity — opportunities which, he said, were available only to those who owned a substantial estate.”

“Did he ever marry?” asked Lord Matlock.

“My uncle? No. He claimed he had no heart to be engaged. I assume he was crossed in love.”

“He was.” Lady Catherine attempted to sit, but Anne kept a firm hand on her shoulder. “But not by the lady he loved.” She pushed at Anne’s hand. “For heaven’s sake, Anne, allow me to sit.”

Anne refused to relinquish her hold. “Not just yet, Mother. You have only regained your senses. I know from experience that rising too soon after swooning will only precipitate another episode. Be patient.”

Lady Catherine huffed but complied. “It was my father.”

Bingley looked at her in confusion. “Your father? Forgive me, but I do not understand your meaning.”

“My father refused to allow me to marry your uncle.”

“Bingley’s uncle?” Darcy’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. “Bingley’s uncle is your lost love?”

Lady Catherine nodded; a tear escaping her eye was quickly dried by Anne.

Darcy shook his head in disbelief. “Of course he is. When you spoke to us recently, you called him Adrian and Uncle James called him Cranfield. I cannot believe I did not put the pieces of information together. If I had been quicker with my thinking, I could have saved you a shock. I am sorry, Aunt Catherine.”

“Do you wish for him to not dine with us?” asked Bingley. “I could ride out and meet him.”

“No!” Lady Catherine pushed Anne away and sat up. “I would not rescind an invitation; however, I will remove myself if need be. I would greatly like to see him again, but he may not wish to see me.”

“I will ride out,” said Bingley. “I will not withdraw the invitation, but I will make him aware of all the facts.”

“But the picnic. You mustn’t miss the picnic. They are such wonderful opportunities for young people to get to know one another.” Lady Catherine looked at Jane. “I would not deprive you of your happiness. I shall simply take my dinner with my nephew. Richard will be anxious for company, I am sure.”

“I am quite anxious for some already,” said Richard as Kellet pushed him into the room.

“Wherever did you find that old bath chair?” asked Anne.

“It was in the attic, Miss,” said Kellet.

“He did not make you carry him down the stairs, did he?” Anne gave Richard a stern look.

“No, Miss. Patrick and Nate were of assistance.”

“I did not ask to be carried, but they would not give me a crutch so that I could hop down under my own power.”

“Three days. Three days and two of those you have been insensible and feverish. You will do yourself harm,” Anne scolded.

“I will not do myself harm. Many a soldier rises from his bed mere days after his injury.”

“Without relapse or any ill effect?” Anne shook her head.

Colonel Alcock caught a laugh.

Anne turned to him. “I am right, am I not?”

He nodded.

Anne narrowed her eyes and looked once again at Richard. “No crutches until next week. I’ve not yet recovered from the fright of your accident.” She walked to the door of the parlour and called to Kellet. “Please set up the picnic in the side garden.” She turned back to the room. “I will not risk having him ride a horse or climb a hill.” A ripple of laughter spread around the room.

“I had no intentions of climbing a hill,” said Richard with a smile. “Now, would someone please tell me why my aunt needs to eat with me?”

“Bingley’s uncle is coming,” said Darcy.

“Yes, yes, I know. Anne told me about that last night. But I do not see why that makes a difference. Surely there are enough chairs.”

“Bingley’s uncle is Adrian Cranfield.”

Richard looked at Anne expecting her to continue. Then before she could, he cocked his head to one side and furrowed his brow. “I’ve heard the name before, have I not?”

Anne nodded and waited for him to piece it together.

“Aunt Catherine called the man she planned to marry Adrian, and Father called him Cranfield.” His eyes grew wide. “That man was Bingley’s uncle?”

“He still is Bingley’s uncle, and he is arriving later today,” said Darcy.

Lady Catherine rose from the couch. “I do not wish to avoid him, but he may wish to avoid me. I believe he was told a story about me which was not entirely true. I would not wish to see someone if I thought I had been ill-used by her. But, enough about me. This is Anne’s day, and I will not ruin it with my tale of woe.” She smiled at her daughter. “Will Georgiana and Miss Lucas be joining us?”

“Along with Mrs. Ainsley and Mrs. Jenkinson,” said Anne. “I shall go inform them of our change of plans.”

“No, Anne, Miss Elizabeth and I shall go,” said Darcy. Richard raised an eyebrow and gave him a smirk. Darcy scowled at him as he offered his arm to Elizabeth. “We’ll not be long,” he said, which only caused Richard to grin more broadly, and from the look in his eye, Anne was certain he was going to add some teasing comment. However, his remarks were left unsaid as Kellet announced Miss Barrows.

“Miss Barrows,” Anne greeted her in surprise. “I was not expecting to see you today.”

“I had not thought I would be able to attend, but here I am. Mother said it would be very rude of me not to at least attend the picnic.” She turned and smiled at Richard. “It is lovely to see you up and about, Colonel.”

“It is good to be somewhere other than my bed,” agreed Richard.

“However, due to Richard’s lack of mobility, we have decided to have our picnic in the garden. I do hope you will not be too disappointed,” said Anne.

“Oh, not at all, I assure you. It is more the company than the location that guarantees the success of any social function.”

“Shall we proceed to the garden then?” Lord Matlock offered an arm to both his wife and his sister.

~*~*~

“Miss de Bourgh, would you care to take a turn about the garden with me?” asked Miss Barrows. “The men have taken to discussing war, and I am not fond of such conversations.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought, looking very much like a young girl fresh from the schoolroom.

“Of course, Miss Barrows, I will join you.” She gave Richard’s hand a pat as she left his side.

“You are quite devoted to him,” said Miss Barrows.

“I suppose I am,” admitted Anne. “But, I believe a wife should feel devotion for her husband, so it is a good sign that I feel that now even though we are not yet married. Would you not agree?”

“You are to marry?” Miss Barrows was incredulous.

“Yes, it will be announced formally this evening, and the banns will be read for the first time this Sunday.”

“My brother will be quite disappointed to hear that. I believe he has a fondness for you. In fact,” she pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket, “he asked me to give this to you. I refused at first. I told him it is not proper and should not be done, but he insisted. And his face looked so sad that I just could not deny him.” She pressed the missive into Anne’s hand.

“Thank you, but you are right it is not proper.” She attempted to give the letter back to Miss Barrows, who refused to take it.

“No, I have done my part. I shall not disappoint my brother by returning home with it.”

Anne slipped the note into her pocket. She was curious as to its contents but refused to read it in his sister’s presence. Later, she would read it with Richard ─ preferably after he had been tucked back into bed and possibly even medicated or at least having had a quantity of wine or brandy.

The rest of the stroll around the garden was uneventful. Miss Barrows chattered on about her friends and their accounts of the events of the season and how she longed to join them within a fortnight.

~*~*~

“You look tired, my dear,” Richard whispered as she sat down next to him again. The rest of the gentlemen had wandered off to play a game of croquet with the ladies while Georgiana and Maria played shuttlecock with Mrs. Ainsley and Mrs. Jenkinson. “What did Miss Barrows give you?”

“Were you watching me?” Anne smiled. She quite liked the idea that he had been.

“I was. Now, what did she give you?”

Anne drew the folded paper from her pocket and handed it to him. “I am not sure. I just know it is from her brother. I was going to bring it to you later, but since you will not stop until you have your answers, you may have it now. I have not read it.”

Richard took the letter and unfolded it. Anne watched his face darken as he read it. “I will kill him,” he muttered.

Anne took the letter from him and read.

My dear Miss de Bourgh, 
I beg of you to reconsider your response to my proposal. I am in possession of information about your family which, should it fall into the wrong hands, could severely blacken your reputation. I have it on good authority that your mother’s marriage was a patched-up affair and that you, in fact, are not Sir Louis’ daughter and therefore, not his heir but a clutching and clawing by-blow. Once this information is made known, both you and your mother will, of course, have to leave Rosings and others will have to see to its disposal. I doubt you will be left with very much on which to survive and knowing your delicate constitution, I do fear for your well-being. However, none of that need happen if you will but make me the happiest of men and accept my proposal. I will give you one day to consider your answer. I expect your reply before the moon rises tomorrow, or by morning there will be a very interesting story in the Times. 
Sincerely,
C.B.

Anne turned pale as she read. Richard drew her as close to his side as his wheeled contraption would allow. Concern that she might faint gripped his heart. “Anne, will you be well? Shall I call for help?” Silently, he cursed the leg that kept him from helping her himself.

Anne nodded slowly. “I shall be well.” She lifted tear-filled eyes to him. “But I do not know how we can stop him, and his sister knows I have already accepted your proposal. When she goes home and tells him, he will write his false story and have it published. My home…my reputation…my mother’s reputation…” A tear slid down her cheek.

Richard cupped her face in his hands and brushed the tear away with his thumb. “He will not harm you,” he said firmly before placing a quick kiss on her forehead and releasing her. “Alcock!” he shouted.

The colonel turned and hurried toward him.

“Your men, have they had time to learn anything?”

“I will not know until a bit later today when I ride to Coburg’s. What has happened?”

Richard took the letter from Anne and handed it to his friend.

“No!” said Anne, trying to snatch the letter away from Richard.

“Do not worry, my dear. He has already been made aware of the particulars of your mother’s arranged marriage. He will not misuse the information. I trust him with my life, and more importantly, I would trust him with yours.”