Chapter 21

 

December 8, 1812

 

Anne faced quite the conundrum. She had begun reading in an effort to show Fitzwilliam that, despite her many womanly charms, she might not make his ideal match. But his love for her was so blinding and all consuming, he did not see her new interest as a detriment. Rather, he seemed to view it as an asset. Had he made his opinion in this pastime known yesterday morning, Anne would have given up the hobby altogether. But in a little over twenty-four hours, she had discovered that she was in full agreement with Fitzwilliam. Reading did improve her mind, and it was rather enjoyable to boot! She certainly didn't want to further encourage him, but what was she to do?

She mulled over her prior conversation with Mr. Kent. Had he not said something about women walking alone being reckless and even unfeminine? She sighed. She had never ventured beyond the drive of Rosings Park on foot. Her health had been too tenuous to risk it. Of course, she seemed to recall some of her doctors saying a few short walks might do her some good, but obviously, these had been the inferior doctors. Any doctor making such a preposterous claim had been dismissed within the first two visits. All the doctors that had stayed long term had agreed with her mother that Anne was weak and needed to be coddled. But drastic times called for drastic measures. If Fitzwilliam asked for her hand, Anne knew she could not hope to stand up against both him and her mother. She had to dissuade him before he asked, and judging by the signs, she had best act quickly. The ill effects of exercise on her physical being, she reasoned, were a small price to pay to avoid a lifetime married to a man she did not love or even understand.

Fitzwilliam, who was still standing in the doorway of the library, broke her ruminations. “I must beg your pardon, but I have some work to do. I will be up in my room.”

“Yes, of course. I was just on my way out for a walk, actually,” Anne responded. She watched her cousin's eyes go wide in surprise and smiled to herself. Yes. She was on to something here. She set her book down and walked toward the front door.

Darcy, who had been momentarily stunned by Anne's unusual new interests, stopped her before she reached the front door. “It is still a bit damp outside. It might be best to change into more sturdy shoes and bring a shawl.”

Anne blushed. She must think more if she wished to be convincing. “Oh, yes. I was just stepping onto the porch to test the weather,” she said smiling back. She congratulated herself on her quick recovery and watched as her cousin climbed the stairs.

When Darcy reached his room he rang for his valet. He wanted to change out of his clothes, but he also felt a warm bath might help him make sense of the world. Anne reading and walking? Elizabeth choosing that annoying fool over the Master of Pemberley? With this splitting headache it all seemed so impossible.

Within half an hour, Darcy was relaxing in a hot bath. His head had cleared, somewhat, and he remembered that he didn't need, or want, to make sense of anomalies. What he wanted was to push all thoughts of Elizabeth aside. He focused his efforts on making arrangements to leave. Darcy made a mental list of what he needed to do and ordered the tasks according to their importance. Among the long list of tasks, Darcy had failed to schedule in a lengthy discussion with his sister. If Georgiana had her way, Darcy's lack of planning would be inconsequential to her plans.

Georgiana was no fool. She knew her brother's habits nearly as well as she knew her own. His behavior the prior evening was telling. Something was bothering him, and she would not be dissuaded from getting the truth. She had been waiting in the parlor for the better part of the morning to speak to him, but the hour was growing late, and he had yet to appear. Georgiana decided to perform a quick sweep of the house to see if her brother was hiding in some other corner.

As Georgiana walked toward the library, one of Darcy's favorite haunts, she saw Mr. Bingley descending the stairs. The sight of him reminded her that there is more than one way to gain insight into Darcy's mind. After appropriate greetings, Georgiana asked, “Mr. Bingley, have you seen my brother this morning?”

“I did see him earlier, but I believe he mentioned he had a small headache. I suspect he will be keeping to his room until at least tea time.”

“I see. Will you be joining me in the parlor then? Anne has been indisposed all morning, so it will just be my aunt and myself to keep you company.” Bingley looked longingly at the front door. A look that was not lost on Georgiana. She would use this opportunity to do further probing. “Unless, of course, you have plans. Are you heading out to see your friend from Cambridge again?”

Mr. Bingley was embarrassed by the lie he had told as well as his poor manners. He had arrived at Rosings Park in the afternoon, yesterday, and had spent nearly all his short time there avoiding the inhabitants of the estate. Bingley knew he could not fool Georgiana. She had seen him eyeing the front door, and she knew he had been planning to leave. “Our friend has continued on his journey, Miss Darcy. I was contemplating a walk, but there is no need to stretch my legs right now. I would be delighted to join you in the parlor.”

As Bingley offered his arm to escort Georgiana back to the parlor, Anne appeared at the top of the stairs. She was bundled up from head to toe, and if Bingley had not walked back from town that very morning, her attire would have convinced him that all of Hunsford lay under three feet of snow.

Georgiana was the first to speak, “Anne, dear, are you going out?”

“Yes. I thought a little walk might be nice. See,” she said as she raised her dress just high enough to show the toe of her boots, “I have even put on a pair of walking boots.”

Georgiana knew her cousin rarely took exercise, and judging by the number of layers she was wearing, Georgiana feared Anne would collapse from heat stroke after walking fifty paces. Mr. Bingley wished to go for a walk, and Anne would benefit from a chaperone. Further, by discussing her brother outside, Georgiana would avoid her aunt's curious ears. It was settled Georgiana thought. She made her suggestion. “A walk sounds lovely. Mr. Bingley was just planning to go outside as well. May we join you, Anne?”

Anne had hoped that she could walk alone, as this would be more shocking to Fitzwilliam, but she could not decline such a request very easily. Perhaps, she would use this opportunity to inform Mr. Bingley what a treat it was to have company, emphasizing that her enormous fondness for walking normally had to be satiated through solitary meanderings. Anne doubted that Fitzwilliam would be able to hide his adoration from his best friend, so the next time Fitzwilliam brought her up in conversation, she hoped Bingley might convey her message. It certainly sounded easier to give the appearance of walking than it did to actually perform the act.

“Yes, of course. That sounds delightful,” Anne said, smiling at her guests.

Much to Anne's amazement, Georgiana changed her shoes but decided to forgo a shawl. She knew that Anne would quickly wish to discard one of her own. Georgiana wanted to provide Anne with the opportunity to rid herself of the excess layer under the guise of the charitable act of keeping her cousin from freezing.

No sooner had the trio entered the woods than Bingley began eyeing the path that would carry them to the Parsonage. Both women noticed, and it was Anne who commented first. “I wonder if Mrs. Collins is enjoying her first Christmas here in Hunsford. It was ever so nice of you, Mr. Bingley, to help them with their travel. I think it's just wonderful that their family tries to spend the holidays together. I was telling my mother, I rather like the Bennets' Christmas tradition.”

For Georgiana, the pieces of the puzzle began falling into place. More than one of her brother's letters from Netherfield had mentioned an Elizabeth Bennet. There had been a very strange request, made by her brother, to spend Christmas away from Pemberley, and with Aunt Catherine nonetheless. Fitzwilliam had suddenly disappeared yesterday, not so very long after Mr. Bingley arrived. Georgiana had a strong suspicion that this Miss Bennet might very well be the source of her brother's odd mood as of late. She was struck with a perfect explanation. Mr. Bingley was clearly itching to go to Miss Bennet. Maybe her brother was in love with the same woman as his best friend! It was a tragic romance worthy of the very best serialized romance novels! Georgiana simply had to meet Miss Bennet for herself and, much as it pained her to throw Mr. Bingley under the carriage, she would champion her brother for the heart of the fair maiden.

“Mr. Bingley, as you know the Collinses and the Bennets, perhaps we could stop by the Parsonage and you might provide me with an introduction. I should like to meet some of my aunt's neighbors,” Georgiana asked politely. Mr. Bingley beamed at the suggestion. Yes, she was sure. He was entirely smitten with Miss Bennet. Georgiana then caught sight of Anne, who looked about as red as a beet. “Anne, might I borrow one of your shawls? It was so foolish of me to forget to bring my own.”

Anne looked over at Georgiana with a look of envy and pity. “Please take two, cousin. I wouldn't want you to catch a cold.”

With two layers stripped from Anne, her color began to fade to a dark pink, and she became more amenable to continuing on the path to the Parsonage. The trio turned on the path with Bingley thinking of nothing but Jane, Georgiana wondering about Elizabeth, and Anne trying to remember if Mr. Collins had a carriage that might be able to return her to Rosings Park after their visit.

At the Parsonage, Elizabeth had finally managed to trap Jane alone for the first time since their arrival. Normally, Kitty would have shared a room with Lydia, but Lydia had complained of a sore throat on the journey to Hunsford. After Lizzy recklessly tossed aside a perfectly fine bachelor, Mrs. Bennet needed to double her efforts on the two men still on the field. That meant, Kitty could not fall ill. Lydia could be ill for up to two weeks. If Kitty caught it toward the end of that period, she might still be ill once they were back at Longbourn. Mr. Lucas might have been hooked, but he was far from reeled in. Kitty needed to be in top form the second they returned home. Further, Mrs. Bennet planned to use this month at Hunsford to have Mary educate Jane, Lizzy, and Kitty about being a new wife. It seemed Lizzy would no longer need the education, but Kitty could not afford to get sick. For this reason, Kitty was moved into the bedroom with Jane and Lizzy, and Lizzy had needed to hold her curiosity until today.

“Jane,” Elizabeth whispered scooting a little closer to her sister on the sofa. “Do not think you have escaped my inquisition. I saw the look on Mr. Bingley's face when we pulled up to the Parsonage yesterday. And you did not look entirely indifferent when he stopped by last evening. I must know what happened while I was asleep in the carriage.”

Jane opened her mouth to answer, when they heard a knock on the door.