There was, in fact, no difficulty; he was standing on the terrace, looking at the view. She tried to put her thanks into words; he cut her short.
“What I did was nothing, and I have no right to assist you; I wish I had. But there is something I wish to say to you,” he said. “Your cousin will have told you this already, but I will repeat it. I read that document; you have every right to your own money, and your mother, however good her intentions, was wrong to withhold it. The matter would be different, of course, if your mother were in any danger of financial hardship; but that is certainly not the case. And even then, she should not have withheld, without asking, money which belongs to you. We all have obligations to a parent, but as we grow into adulthood, our responsibilities change; we owe respect, affection, but not blind, unthinking obedience. We have duties, which a parent cannot forbid us to perform. You are responsible for your money, and it is your task to decide how it should be used. Do not ever allow anyone to tell you, as that man did, that 'young ladies' have no need to think, or no right to learn. Never allow anyone to do your thinking for you.”
“No… no… I will remember. But…”
“But?”
“I do not know… Will you be at the assembly tonight?”
“No. I cannot.”
“And you do not much care to dance, do you?”
“Not much. I can understand why people like to dance, but I am clumsy; the music does not speak to me as it does to some. I am not made for mirth. But you love to dance, do you not?”
“Not as much as Georgiana; I like it, but I am soon tired.”
“You must exercise more, then you will not get tired.”
“But I am learning to ride.”
“That is very good,” said he, smiling, “but you must walk a little, too, every day.”
“Very well, I will try.”
“Now I must be on my way. I must be about my business. I know, why cannot I stay—you must think me a money-grubbing fellow, and that is what I am.
“You see, Miss de Bourgh, there is something I must tell you. My parents had a good fortune, but some years ago, I persuaded them to enter into a doubtful speculation. I was young, I was foolish, I was misled by dishonest people, and they lost a great deal of money. It was my fault, and I must ensure that their fortune is restored. They are all goodness, they have never asked for anything or spoken a word of blame, but that is my responsibility. Our land is not profitable for farming, but the quarry has opened up a very good way of making money, and it gives employment to people, who would not otherwise have work. I chose to employ local men, rather than bring in outsiders, but they are not used to the work, and they require constant attention and supervision. This is why I must go, when I would much rather stay. It may be many years before I have the money to be leisured.”
“I see.”
“Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, sir… Mr Caldwell!”
“Yes, ma'am?”
“Thank you for telling me about… about… I understand your situation, and I honour you for it.”
He turned to go; turning back, he raised her hand to his lips, and kissed it. Then he was gone.
Chapter 14
Mrs Darcy, used to living among a large number of sisters, was really rejoiced to have Anne staying with her, and equally glad to have Lady Louisa and the Caldwells in her home for the night of the Lambton assembly. She enjoyed the happy bustle of the day before a ball.
“The Assembly rooms are almost outside our gates,” she told her husband. “You can have no fears for me. I shall not dance, but I do wish to go.”
“I only wondered,” he said, “If you and Mrs Annesley would like to stay behind. I will tell you what I do fear, and that is, bringing six women to an assembly, and only one man. I have only Caldwell. Fitzwilliam and Edmund Caldwell have left us, and your father refuses to go.”
“I know; he never would go to the dances at Meryton. But my mother brought all five of us, and there was always a shortage of gentlemen as a result. Do you remember the evening that we met? I could not get a partner, and was sitting down. That is why I overheard you, when you were so ungallant as to refuse to dance with me. I know now, of course, the reason for your bad temper: you were just come from dealing with the abominable Wickham,” she said.
“If you remind me of
“She is an excellent person, is she not? I thought that we would not need her, but she is so good-tempered, so useful. Georgiana still needs a music instructress, and Anne is enjoying her lessons, too.”
“Yes, indeed. In any case, I do not like to dismiss a person who has given us such good service, for who knows whether she would get another post? And besides, my love, in a very few years' time, we will need a governess, will we not?”
In view of her husband's anxiety, however, Mrs Darcy agreed to stay quietly at home for the morning, and allow Mrs Annesley and Georgiana to take Anne into Lambton, to buy a new pair of dancing sandals, and a few other necessities for the evening.
This was enough to spread the news around the town that a large party from Pemberley would be at the assembly. Some said Mr and Mrs Darcy would bring ten women, and eight men, others said there would be six women and five men, but it was generally known that an heiress would be among the party, and someone pointed out that it was twice as good as the first report, for, if one counted Miss Georgiana Darcy, that made two.
Lambton had some excellent shops, and what with the buying of new gloves, and inspecting Georgiana's purchases, and approving of them, the morning flew away. It was just as well, thought Anne, for she had not time to think, and she was not sure that she wanted it.
But a mind like hers, used to solitude, must and will find it. In the course of the afternoon, she found herself at the table in the corner of the library that she had come to regard as hers. Mr Bennet had categorically refused to take it, saying that authors were privileged people, and that all the reward he claimed was the pleasure of hearing more of her story: “The place is enormous, and there are at least half a dozen very comfortable armchairs, where I can sleep in peace,” he told her; and he told his daughter, “I would even let Miss de Bourgh into my own library at home, for I will guarantee that she does not chatter, or disturb one by wanting a pen mended, or an argument settled. She is a very uncommon young woman.”
“There is more to her than any of us thought,” Elizabeth replied. “Who would have thought that she had such an imagination? Such a power of telling a story?”
But this afternoon, Anne's mind seemed empty. She could not write a line; she could not review what she had written previously; she could not even read. All she could think of were Edmund's words, Edmund's look, Edmund's gesture.
He had kissed her hand. Men did not commonly kiss a woman's hand; she had never known such a thing. Taken in conjunction with what he had told her, it was as if he were saying goodbye. A farewell. She knew it, and she knew why:
It would never do. She knew it; and she understood it was his way of telling her that he knew it, too. His lack of rank, his restricted means, his occupation, not to mention his egalitarian ideas, all would make him unacceptable to her mother. Lady Catherine would refuse even to be introduced to him. Darcy too, she thought: even though he had married a penniless woman, of lower rank than his own, and liked Edmund as a friend, he would not welcome him as a cousin. It was very well for a woman to marry above her station, but for a man to seek to wed a woman of higher rank, and great wealth, with nothing to offer in return, would be regarded as fortune-hunting of the meanest description. Edmund would never do it. Rosings was hung around her neck, a burden she could never escape. Her wealth, instead of giving her freedom, would forever imprison her.
