The Three Colonels

Anne looked Mr. Tucker full in the face. “Yes, I have.”

Gravely, he continued, “And has Colonel Fitzwilliam replied to you?”

“Yes, he has.” Anne smiled.

“I can categorically affirm that they have exchanged letters,” declared Darcy.

“Such behavior sounds very much like a betrothal to me!” piped in Matlock. “What do you say, Mr. Collins?”

The vicar rose, and in a very solemn voice intoned, “It is a great indiscretion for persons who are not engaged to correspond privately with each other. I fear that Colonel Fitzwilliam has compromised Miss de Bourgh’s reputation. If they are not betrothed, steps must be taken to preserve the good name of de Bourgh—”

“Sit down, you traitor!” screamed Lady Catherine. “I will have you out of Hunsford parsonage before nightfall—you and that horrid wife and loathsome children of yours!”

Anne leapt to her feet. “You will not threaten my parson! Mr. Collins is correct— Richard and I have been indiscreet. Since we have defied society and acted as an engaged couple, I will accept the fact that I have indeed entered into such a promise. I consider myself betrothed to Colonel Fitzwilliam.”

“I speak for my family,” intoned the earl. “I declare that Richard is indeed betrothed to Anne.”

Lady Catherine looked down and then tried one last tack. “I am still mistress of Rosings. Anne is not yet married—”

“Ah, true,” began Tucker, “but if the families involved publicly state that the couple is engaged, and Colonel Fitzwilliam does not deny it, they are indeed betrothed. In this case, Colonel Fitzwilliam is away at war. If anything should happen to Colonel Fitzwilliam, the law would look at Miss de Bourgh as if she were already married to him. They are betrothed, and the law treats this very seriously. As this is the case, it could be argued that the law would recognize that Miss de Bourgh has met the requirements of this unorthodox will and is now owner of Rosings Park, as it recognizes her as married over other matters.

“You could, of course, contest all this—”

“I certainly shall! I will never agree that Anne is betrothed to anyone!”

Tucker was unruffled. “That is certainly your right, Lady Catherine, but I must advise you to think better of it. If you do bring this to court, Lord Matlock and Mr. Darcy have pledged to act on Miss de Bourgh’s behalf. Every detail of this business will become public in the trial: Sir Lewis’s will, the trusteeship, and Miss de Bourgh’s… actions.”

Lady Catherine blanched at the thought of all their private affairs being published in the London papers. She turned to her daughter.

“You do not have to do this! This can be repaired!” begged her mother.

“Mother,” said Anne, “I want to marry Richard.”

“But he has nothing!”

“He has my heart; that is enough.”

“Love—you love him? Oh, do not be a fool! Love is not enough to live on!”

“What more is there?” Anne shot back. “What joy has wealth and position ever brought you? Has Rosings brought you happiness? You have barricaded yourself in your great house, estranged from your own family. You go nowhere; you see no one. Well, Mother, how is this existence different from being dead?

“And this is the life you planned for me. Well, I choose differently. I shall marry the man I love and fill this dank place with the laughter of my children. Is that so foolish?”

Lady Catherine had no answer.

“Gentlemen,” said Anne to the others, “thank you for your counsel. However, I would ask for a few moments alone with my mother.” The gentlemen rose and left the room.

“We have a few decisions to make—first, where you wish to live.”

Lady Catherine gasped, but she was allowed no chance to respond.

“The dowager house is not ready, so my uncle has kindly offered his house in London for the duration. However,” she overrode an angry retort, “I have no objection to your remaining here at Rosings until Richard and I marry. Then you may decide whether to move into the dowager house or into your own residence in Town, which I would be happy to provide.

“Let me make myself perfectly clear, Mother: Should you choose to remain at Rosings, you must accept my supremacy. The choice is yours: live in my house or your brother’s.”

Lady Catherine gave a slight grimace. “Would I be allowed my own servants?”

“Of course.” She knelt beside the older woman and took her hands. “Mother, surely you understand why this is necessary. It was Father’s wish, and Richard and I need to start our marriage alone. Do not be concerned. You shall want for nothing.” She kissed her mother’s cheek. “I do love you, Mama.”

Tears sprang to Lady Catherine’s face. “Y… you have not called me that since—”

“Since you told me it was unladylike for a young woman to refer to her mother as Mama.” Anne had a wry smile.

“Well, it is. Oh, Anne, I love this house so!”

“It is just a house. Richard and I shall make it a home.” She thought to ask Lady Catherine whether she loved Sir Lewis, but she decided not to broach that subject today; they both had been through enough. “You like Richard; admit it, Mama. He was always your favorite nephew.”

“Your favorite cousin, too, I warrant. How long have you felt this way, Anne?”

“I do not know. It seems forever—years at least.”

Lady Catherine sighed bitterly. “It seems I have been trying to foist the wrong Fitzwilliam on you.” The grand dame collected herself and continued in her more familiar manner. “Well, you may have your wish. You may have Rosings. I will not challenge this ridiculous claim. I know I would eventually triumph, but not at the cost of bringing disgrace upon the de Bourgh name. You have obtained your inheritance, but it shall be recorded that it is done by my will, and not due to the chicanery of your uncle and his lawyers,” she sneered. “What else did you wish to discuss with me?”

Anne thought her mother capitulated far too easily, but as there was nothing she could do to upset the plans of her uncle and Mr. Tucker, she set that concern aside. “I shall be leaving for London. I have accepted an invitation to call upon Lady Buford, and I shall be staying at Fitzwilliam House. Are you to accompany me?”

*   *   *

Brussels

“Come, Buford,” urged Richard, “you must come to the First of June ball. Every officer has been invited to —— Chateau in Brussels for the celebration. It will improve your spirits!” Richard was worried about his friend. He knew that Buford had not received any letters from home.

“No, you go without me. I do not wish to socialize with empty-headed British expatriates who have come over to the Continent to see the fun of war.”

“Such bitterness! Buford, I know Caroline has written. Something has happened to the post. This is not the first time; you know how the army is.” Richard hoped rather than believed that Lady Buford had written her husband. He recalled his last interview with the lady; surely, there was some feeling there.

Buford looked up, trying to hide the hurt he felt in his heart. “Yes, you are right.”

“Of course, I am! So, you will come on Thursday?”

Buford sighed. “Very well.”

Chapter 22

Delaford

Marianne loved Delaford Manor almost as much as she loved Christopher. One of her favorite places was the extensive gardens. Many hours’ pleasure was found walking its fragrant paths, the eye resting agreeably upon the colorful blooms and lush foliage. The gardens were hers, her husband had decreed upon their marriage, and Marianne spared no expense for their care.