An Unlikely Bride

Lelia M. Silver

 

Lady Catherine was extremely indignant on the marriage of her nephew; and as she gave way to all the genuine frankness of her character, in her reply to the letter which announced its arrangement, she sent him language so very abusive, especially of Elizabeth, that for some time all intercourse was at an end. But at length, by Elizabeth’s persuasion, he was prevailed on to overlook the offence, and seek a reconciliation; –Pride and Prejudice

Chapter 1

Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam crumpled the missive his butler had delivered only moments before and seriously considered the merits of tossing it in the fire burning in the hearth.

He was tired of being ordered about. It was one of the many reasons why he had sold his commission, retired, and now resided at his family’s townhouse in London. He eyed the roaring fire. It would give him immense satisfaction to see the flames devour the rudely worded note. He had received many commands over his years in the military, but none of them had ever come close to the imperious tone of his Aunt Catherine’s summons.

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury of ignoring his aunt’s missive. His family expected him to wait upon her, if for nothing else than to preserve the peace.

His cousin Darcy had married only a few months before, and his aunt had not made the adjustment well. She had always expected a match between Darcy and her own daughter, Anne. To have her daughter’s position stolen by a young upstart like Elizabeth Bennet had been a serious blow for the older woman.

There had been rumors Lady Catherine had taken to her bed ill for three weeks. Fitzwilliam did not put much stock in those rumors. He could no more imagine his aunt taking to her bed than he could imagine Darcy married to the quiet, sensible Anne. He thought it far more likely she had flown into a rage that even her supercilious parson, Mr. Collins, would have been hard-pressed to bring her out of.

Of course, he had not been around Rosings at the time to know the truth. In all likelihood, the only person who knew the true nature of his aunt’s reaction was his cousin Anne. Considering her poor health and retiring nature, he was unlikely to get more than a generic account of what had transpired from her. Anne had always been cowed by her more aggressive mother.

It was why he had always thought she and Darcy would be completely unsuitable for one another, not that anyone cared about his opinion on the matter. On the other hand, Elizabeth Darcy had all the fire and intelligence to match Darcy tit for tat. Fitzwilliam smiled to himself. Now that was the sort of match he would not mind for himself.

However, with Darcy out of the picture, thanks to his insistence that Aunt Catherine accept his new bride, which was something she had no intention of doing, Fitzwilliam was left on his own to see to the annual review of his aunt’s estates. And if the tone of her letter was any indication, she expected Fitzwilliam to attend her post-haste.

Resigning himself to the idea, Fitzwilliam smoothed out the crumpled paper and ran his fingers over the ridges he had put in the crisp parchment as he read his aunt’s directives one more time.

She expected him at Rosings in one week. It would be difficult to get his affairs arranged in time to make that deadline, but not impossible.

He stood to ring for the butler. There was no time like the present to get to work.

*****

One week later, Fitzwilliam turned his horse down the lane that led to Rosings. His mount slowed as they neared the parsonage, as if he, too, was reluctant to arrive at their destination.

Fitzwilliam reached out to pat the animal’s neck with one gloved hand and chuckled. “It is only for a little while,” he reassured the old chap. They had been through a lot together, he and Andronicus. This was just one more battle to be fought and won, one more field to conquer.

The horse snorted, as if he did not believe him.

Fitzwilliam shook his head. “Really. We shall be here a fortnight tops, less if Darcy left the books in good order. Last year we were done in record time.” He smiled a little to himself. “Although we might have Elizabeth Bennet to thank for that.”

Andronicus bobbed his head in agreement and then let out a welcoming whinny that made Fitzwilliam crane his head around to see what had caught the stallion’s fancy. He grinned as he caught sight of his cousin, climbing into her pony cart in front of the parsonage. The parson’s wife was expecting a child soon. No doubt Anne had been sent to help Mrs. Collins with preparations for the baby.

She had not yet noticed his arrival. He took a moment to survey her as she settled into the cart and picked up the reins. She looked well. Healthier than he had seen her in years. There was color in her cheeks and a luster to her hair that had been missing before. Why, she was almost beautiful in her own sort of way.

He would never have believed it possible. Surrounded by her overbearing mother and the dark furnishings of Rosings, Anne had always seemed a little drab and rundown. He had rarely seen her in the bright light of a sunny day and he was amazed by the transformation in her.

As he watched, she lifted her face to the sun and smiled, the simple gesture transforming her features. He did not think he had ever seen someone so content and at peace as she was. At that moment, she was not just almost beautiful. She was downright breathtaking. No other woman of his acquaintance could compare to her.

Shocked, he did not even realize he had reined his mount to a standstill. Why had he never noticed this side of his cousin? Had he really been so oblivious to her? To his chagrin, he realized he had never really given her a second thought, much less a second glance.

His last visit to Rosings had been eclipsed by the obvious chemistry between Darcy and Elizabeth. Prior to that, he had always been so busy avoiding Lady Catherine and riding the estate with Darcy that he had only ever spent a few hours over dinner with his cousin.

He just might have to change that.

She lifted her hands to shake the reins over her pony’s back, reminding him he was still standing in the middle of the lane, gawking at her. He closed his mouth and goaded Andronicus into motion, calling out with a cheerful grin, “Hello, Cousin!”

She turned at the sound of his voice to spy him coming up the lane toward her and rewarded him for the greeting with a heartfelt smile. “Cousin Richard! What a pleasant surprise! Mother and I were not expecting you to arrive until this evening.”

He reined in his mount beside her cart. “I managed to make good time on the roads, thanks to my faithful steed here.”

Andronicus shook his head prettily, making his mane fly, and preened.

Anne laughed, a lovely sound Richard could not remember ever hearing before. Then again, who could laugh in Aunt Catherine’s company? She would surely reprimand them for the unseemly display. He grinned, enjoying the slightly rebellious act even more so because it was Anne that had done it.

His lovely cousin was not at all what he had expected.

Anne reached out to pet Andronicus’ nose, her calm touch stilling the restless animal. “He is a fine gentleman, much like his owner.”

Richard tried not to let his own chest puff up at her praise. “Thank you, Cousin. I am not sure your mother would agree with you, but the sentiment is appreciated- by both Andronicus and me.”

Anne picked up the lines again. “Speaking of my mother, she has enlisted Cook’s help to make all your favorite dishes tonight. I think she is determined to win you over to her side since Darcy went against her wishes.” Her mouth twitched, but it was her eyes that gave away her humor with the situation.

He grimaced. “Spare me, please. I am only here to do my duty.”

The smile dancing in her eyes disappeared and her spine straightened, making him instantly regret his hastily spoken words. “Of course. I would not expect otherwise. You have always been most responsible when it comes to your familial duties. Mother and I appreciate your diligence, especially since the entirety of the work will fall to you this year.” She glanced at Rosings, just visible through the trees. “Mother will be expecting me. I must be going.” Her gaze was disappointed as she slapped the reins over the pony’s back, as if she thought she had gained an ally and then had him stolen away from her.

He sighed and watched her pull away. “Not much of a gentleman now, am I, Andronicus?”

The horse snorted his agreement, crooking Richard’s mouth into a half smile. “Well, you need not have been so vehement.”

The horse bobbed his head, as if to say it had been absolutely necessary. Richard had to admit, the horse was probably right.

“Do not worry, old chap. I am man enough to know when I should apologize.” He kicked the horse into a trot, catching up to Anne’s cart quickly.

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye but otherwise did not acknowledge him. He resisted the urge to sigh. She was not going to make this easy for him.

He did not wait for her to make eye contact. “Anne, I do apologize. I spoke without thinking and I do not wish for you to misconstrue my statement. I simply meant that I have no wish to be courted or manipulated by your mother. My feelings toward her are no reflection of my feelings toward you. Indeed, I find I barely know you, Cousin. Tell me, what news is there at Rosings?”

For an instant, he thought she was going to refuse to be reconciled, but then she relented, throwing him a small smile. Her shoulders relaxed. “There is not much news to tell. The winter was difficult, but now that spring is upon us I find myself looking forward to the change in weather and circumstances. Mrs. Collins has been a great companion to me these many months since Mrs. Jenkins left me. I think you will find her presence in the dining room to be very refreshing.”

It was perhaps the longest speech Richard had ever heard his cousin utter, and he was not entirely sure how to respond. He did not wish to risk offending her again by stating his true opinion, yet he could not quite keep the skepticism out of his voice. “I have no doubt.”

To his surprise, she chuckled. “You may keep your doubts, Cousin, but I take whatever small favors are granted me. Mrs. Collins is a welcome voice of reason around the table, although too often her words are discarded by the other guests. My mother is not the only one who likes to hear herself speak.”

Flabbergasted by her forthright speech, Richard could not find a response. It was all he could do to close his gaping mouth.

She sent him a smile that dimpled her cheek becomingly. “You are shocked I see. It is not easy to have our closely held expectations challenged. It was Mrs. Darcy’s greatest fault. She was forever challenging Mother. Yet, I cannot fault her when I have longed to do the same myself. I simply accept that should I wish to enjoy a peaceful existence in the same house as my mother, I must choose when to hold my tongue and when to let it loose. My mother is not all bad, Richard, despite what you have experienced.” It was the first time she had called him simply by his given name.

Richard was silent for a moment before turning a contemplative gaze on her. “It seems nothing is as I expected it to be, Anne, least of all you. I shall look forward to having any further expectations challenged.”

He tipped his hat to her and took the fork in the road that led to the front door, where he would be expected to present himself.

She steered her pony and cart around the back of the house to the stables, smiling a little to herself. Fitzwilliam was not the only one who had discovered his expectations were quite mistaken. She found herself just as eager as he was to see what other wrong assumptions she had made about her cousin.

*****

Anne entered the house through the back door. Her mother would have been appalled to find her using the servants’ entrance, but Anne rather enjoyed entering through the warm kitchen, bustling with activity. It reminded her that not all at Rosings was as it appeared on the surface.

The servants had looked at her askance the first few times she had dared to do it, but now they were as accustomed to her presence as they were to the long worktable that ran the length of the room. It helped that Anne had long ago perfected the art of fading into the background.

Today, the downstairs was even more abuzz with activity than usual, thanks to the arrival of their guest. Cook and her assistants were busy preparing all of Richard’s favorite foods, thanks to the cook at his parent’s townhouse, who had been convinced to send round his recipes. Anne was not sure what her mother had written in her note to convince the man, but she knew her mother well enough to send a note of her own with her profuse thanks and some monetary compensation for the man’s help.

She had personally overseen the preparations to Richard’s room. The chamber she had chosen for his stay was different than the one he had previously used, and she hoped he would not question the change. She had moved him to one of Rosings’ finest apartments, where the draft did not reach and the morning light warmed the rather sterile space. It was the perfect space to work in, and if she was honest with herself, she rather coveted that apartment. Her own rooms, while warm, thanks to her mother’s insistence on her care for her health, were closed off and closeted away so the noise of the household would not disturb her rest. In addition, they were entirely too close to her mother’s rooms for her comfort.

Change was a difficult prospect for her mother, so Anne had yet to broach the topic of changing rooms. In time, perhaps, she might be able to make the move. In the meantime, she was content to bide her time until her mother was ready to hear about it.

Still, she hoped Richard would enjoy the space. It was a shame to have it sit empty all the time when it could be in use. Anne liked to imagine Rosings the way she thought her ancestors had meant for it to be when they built it, full of light and laughter, with the sound of children’s feet running through the halls.

Anne had never run in the halls. She would never have dared to risk her mother’s sharp tongue. But she rather thought her father had in his childhood. Or if not him, then surely this house had once been filled with a happy family.

Sometimes she would walk the gallery in the back hall of the house and wonder about the people in the portraits that lined the walls. Would she have liked them? Would they have smiled at her as a child and applauded her efforts on the pianoforte? Would they have enthused over how beautiful she was as she made her debut in London?

Those were all experiences she would never have. Her mother liked to say she would have been proficient on the pianoforte if she had ever learned, but her mother’s concern about her health had kept her from the instrument. Sitting at the pianoforte for hours of practice would have been too taxing. Her nerves could not have handled the mistakes. Excuses abounded.

By the time Anne reached the age when she might have entered society, Lady Catherine had discovered that her importance in Kent far out shadowed any influence she might have in Town. She never even mentioned a possibility of Anne going to London for her debut. Anne secretly thought her mother had realized taking her to London would have meant relinquishing her hold on her. So Anne had resigned herself to Rosings and the life she had there. In time, instead of resenting her entrapment, she had begun to enjoy it and to look for ways to enliven her dreary existence.

She had succeeded. Her contentment here was complete. Still, she had always looked forward to the visit of her cousins and the news they brought of the outside world. Last year had been the most exciting of all, with the arrival of Mrs. Collins, and subsequently Elizabeth Bennet, now Darcy.

Anne had always known she was never bound to become the future Mrs. Darcy, despite what her mother might assert. As soon as she had met Elizabeth Bennet, and saw how her cousin mooned over her, she had known Darcy had found his match. It had just taken her cousin a little longer to come around to the idea.

This year, there was a different sort of excitement at Rosings. Mrs. Collins was expecting a baby, and while that did mean Anne was often deprived of her company around the dinner table, it gave her a wonderful excuse to get out of the house and visit Mrs. Collins at the parsonage, as she had been doing earlier when Richard had come upon her.

Of course, that also meant her mother was taking a keen interest in all the happenings at the parsonage, and she would expect a full report now that Anne had returned.

Anne skirted the main rooms of the house, her mother’s strident voice reaching her as she walked the back hallways to her room. She shook her head, a small smile on her face as she imagined Fitzwilliam in the drawing room with her mother, patiently listening as she expounded on one topic or another. The poor, long-suffering man. He really was too good to them. Once inside her chambers, her maid helped her out of her driving clothes and into something her mother would find more suitable for entertaining guests.

Then she was back in the hallways again, heading to the drawing room and her mother. And Richard Fitzwilliam. She must not forget the welcome light he was in the household. That thought had her entering the drawing room with a smile.

Her mother perked up at the sight of her, interrupting her own monologue to say, “Ah! Anne! There you are! Richard told me he ran into you outside the parsonage. How is the dear Mrs. Collins today?”

Anne took her seat on the settee and spared her cousin a glance. “She is as well as can be expected, I suppose. She is rather uncomfortable, but looking forward to the blessed event, which is drawing ever nearer. She will make a fine mother, I am sure.”

Lady Catherine harrumphed. “She would be a sight more comfortable if she took to her bed as I advised.”

Anne responded, “Mrs. Collins prefers to be active in serving her husband’s parishioners, which I applaud. You must admit, Mother, that her presence in the parish would be sorely missed if she were to take to her bed as you suggested.”

Her mother waved away her response. “Yes, yes. She is a hard worker, I will grant you that much. It was very well done of Mr. Collins to be so exact in following my instructions when he picked out his wife. He could hardly have found someone else so well suited for the job. I for one quite congratulate myself on a job well done.”

Anne resisted the urge to roll her eyes but noticed that Fitzwilliam was not quite as successful. He hid his snort of laughter behind his hand.

Lady Catherine immediately honed in on the sound. “Was that a cough, young man? Are you ill?” She frowned at him. “You know we cannot have any illness in this household. Anne’s health is too precarious.”

This time, she could not prevent the eye roll. Thankfully, her mother’s full attention was focused on Richard so she did notice. Richard, however, did. His mouth twitched. “I assure you, I am not ill, Aunt Catherine. I simply had something stuck in my throat. I would never jeopardize Anne’s health; although I must say that she is looking remarkably well. I would not guess that her health has been a struggle recently.”

Anne gave him a smile for his support and the sweet compliment. No one had ever told her she looked remarkably well. No one had ever actually given her a compliment, period. She found it felt nice. Really nice, actually.

Lady Catherine sniffed. “Not recently, per say, but you know she has always had a weak constitution. I do not want her to suffer a relapse when she is finally feeling somewhat well.”

Her mother’s insistence on her ill health was annoying, especially when she had not been sick in ages, but Anne tried to concentrate on the well-meaning behind her overprotectiveness. She smiled at the room in general. “The sunshine has done wonders for my constitution. I have been greatly enjoying my visits to Mrs. Collins.” And with that, the conversation was brought neatly back around to Mrs. Collins.

“I am quite convinced they shall have a son,” Lady Catherine said, quickly diving back into one of her favorite topics. “I told Mr. Collins so just the other day. He must have a son. Then I shall be assured that Kent will be left in good hands when he is ready to retire from his post. I told him he must make his sermon this Sunday on the blessings of children and sons in particular. I myself was never granted the gift of a son, but I am quite grateful that I shall have Anne to look after me in my old age. You will never leave me, will you, Anne? It would quite break my heart to have her situated far away from me.”

Anne kept her gaze trained on her folded hands and tried not to fidget in her seat. Her mother could spot dissension from a mile away. “You need not worry about that, Mother. I have no plans to marry and move away at the present time.” Indeed, she had no such prospects. Her mother had scared away any young man that might have attempted to come calling years ago. Anne was inclined to believe she had done so purposefully, either in a bid to keep her daughter near or to keep the way clear for Darcy.

Lady Catherine nodded. “It is too bad, really. I would so like grandchildren to spoil. Just the idea of having the Collins’ little boy running around has made me long for a little one in this house.”

Anne and Richard shared an uncomfortable glance. A wistful Lady Catherine was an enigma. Neither he nor she knew quite how to respond.

Then the wistful look on her face twisted into anger. “It is too bad that hussy Elizabeth Bennet stole Darcy away from you. If you had married him and united our two estates, I might have had a grandchild on the way by now. Instead, that silly Mrs. Bennet shall have that honor!”

Anne was rendered speechless by her outburst, but Fitzwilliam was not. He coughed discreetly into his hand. “I believe Mrs. Bennet will have some time to wait for that honor. Regardless, I am sure you would not wish your nephew ill, Aunt Catherine.” He smiled his most charming smile, the one that had won him more than one argument in the battlefield of London Society. “I should hate to lose your favor if I should ever marry. You are my favorite aunt after all.”

Lady Catherine sniffed. “I am your only living aunt, Richard. Do not try to placate me with clever sayings. It shall not work.” Still, she softened. “I am sure that when you do marry you shall make some woman a fine husband. You have never shirked your responsibility to me. Unlike some people we shall not name.”

They did not need to be named. Everyone in the room knew who she was talking about. Anne sighed and tried to redirect the conversation to a more productive topic. “Mrs. Collins mentioned that one of the families in the village has been experiencing a leaky roof. I thought it might be wise to have one of the servants go down and see about repairing it. What do you think, Mother?”

Lady Catherine, as always, was eager to share her opinion, and waxed so poetic on the subject that she had still not exhausted the topic by the time they went in to dine.

In fact, she waxed so long and heartily on the subject that she had quite exhausted herself by the time dinner was finished. Anne, sensing Lady Catherine’s flagging energy with wisdom born from experience, suggested her mother take herself to bed so that she might be at her best in the morning, when she was to receive Mr. Collins.

Her mother took her advice, leaving Anne and Fitzwilliam to entertain each other in the drawing room. As this was much preferable to allowing Lady Catherine to entertain them, Fitzwilliam did not complain. In fact, he was rather eager to have some time alone with his cousin. She had already surprised him with her beauty, humor, and deft handling of Lady Catherine; he wondered now what other surprises she held in store.

She did not disappoint. As Richard settled into one arm chair, she went to a small desk in the corner of the room and riffled through the contents before pulling out a single sheet of paper.

Paper in hand, she took a seat in the armchair across from his. He watched her curiously, expecting her to share the contents of that note, but instead she simply folded the paper into quarters and laid it on her lap, seemingly content to make him wait.

The inefficiencies of the military should have taught Fitzwilliam patience, but he found that virtue deserting him at the moment. He gestured to the paper she held. “What is that?”

“A list,” she answered calmly.

“A list?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Is it for me?”

“I suppose so,” she told him.

“What does that mean?” he asked.

She shrugged. “Mother insisted I draw up an accounting of all you and Darcy usually see to while you are here to review the estate. She thought it might be useful to have since this time you shall have to carry Darcy’s portion of the work in addition to your own. She did not wish you to forget anything.” She glanced at the paper in her hand and added, “I rather thought you also might not wish to forget anything and risk having to return later when my mother discovers it.”

Richard could not help chuckling. “You are a wise woman, Anne de Bourgh.”

She smiled. “Not wise. Just prepared.”

He shook his head. “A rose by any other name…” He held out his hand for the list. “May I see that?”

With a reluctance that confused him, she handed it over. Richard unfolded the sheet, smoothing out the ridges she had created when she folded it, and held it up to the lamp so he could read the writing. It was long and thorough, and Richard was confident that there were items on the list neither he nor Darcy had ever done. Still, he could see the need for every item listed, and found himself determined to see it through to completion. Satisfied, he folded the note back up and slipped it into his pocket for safekeeping.

Anne was eyeing him warily. “So, what do you think, Cousin?”

He smiled at her. “I think it is ambitious, but practical. There is nothing on this list that cannot be done, and nothing that should not be done. It is well-thought out. I shall begin tomorrow morning by going over the books with your steward. That will give me a more complete picture with which to assess the status of the estate.”

To his surprise and consternation, she relaxed into her chair, relief passing over her features. He thought the expression a rather strange overreaction to his statement. It was odd that she would have such a strong emotional attachment to that list. How would she have reacted if he had been derogatory?

She did not give him time to dwell on the subject. “Our steward will be happy to have you on hand. He has been singing your praises for weeks. I think it is one of the many factors that motivated my mother to write to you.”

Considering that Richard had only had limited interaction with the steward in the past, since that duty mostly fell to Darcy, he found that statement surprising. Richard was an outdoors man, given more to roaming the countryside than going over numbers while he was in Kent. Then again, if the man had been forced to deal with Lady Catherine in the months since he and Darcy had been in Kent, he could well understand the man’s anticipation of their return.

Unfortunately, now all of the duties, even the ones he found most onerous, fell on his shoulders since Darcy was no longer welcome at Rosings. He tapped his fingers against his leg in a rapid staccato. “I sincerely doubt he has need of my services. These last few years, the estate has been running in superb condition. It has quite improved.”

“I am very pleased to hear you say that.” Anne beamed at him, her smile far outweighing the compliment. One might have thought he was complimenting her, not her mother and steward.

His consternation must have shown, for she quickly schooled her features into a more subdued expression. She cleared her throat. “It is always good to know that the estate will go on caring for our needs, especially as Mother has grown older and requires more assistance.”

Richard smiled and shook his head. “As long as Mr. Collins is around, I think your mother will be quite content.”

Anne laughed, a delightful sound that filled his heart with warmth. How had he lived this long and not known that joy? Laughter was such a precious commodity in this house. He was glad he could be the one to bring out that joy in her.

She rested her head in one palm, turning her warm gaze on him as the firelight flickered over her face, alternately hiding and highlighting her features. “Without Mr. Collins there would be no Mrs. Collins or baby Collins, and so I cannot complain. There has been more life at Rosings since they came than there has been for years.”

Her voice turned wistful. “Your visits have always been the only other bright spots.” Then she seemed to shake herself out of her melancholy with a wide grin. “We shall see if you can live up to the hype this year without your accomplice. I daresay it will not be as exciting as last year. Tell me, how are Mr. and Mrs. Darcy? Surely, you have heard from them?”

The light in Anne’s eyes told him she did not harbor any ill will toward their cousin and his new wife, unlike her mother. She was watching him expectantly, hoping for news. He could not bear to disappoint her. “They are doing well. Mrs. Darcy is settling in wonderfully at Pemberley. Darcy adores her, Georgiana is emboldened by her, and the staff is captivated. She is a fine mistress. Georgiana will learn much from her.”

She smiled broadly. “I am pleased to hear that. I knew she and Darcy were well-matched. It was only a matter of time before they realized it for themselves. He is so very different when he is comfortable among family.”

Richard nodded. “The effect is only enhanced now that he is married. He is fortunate she learned his true personality before he scared her off forever. He had not endeared himself to her when they were here last.”

“No, but it was the beginning of a turning point. They needed only time and opportunity for their love to grow.” That assessing gaze, which had so easily seen past Darcy’s foibles, turned on him. “And how about you, Richard? What news do you have?”

He was not as comfortable now that her focus was on him. “I have sold my commission, as you may be aware.”

She nodded. “Yes. Your mother wrote mine when word of that reached her. She was very surprised.”

He sighed. “She very well may have been. I was surprised.”

That statement prompted her to cock her head and look at him questioningly. “What brought about the change?”

He shrugged. “It was not a life I wanted anymore. There was too much worry and responsibility. I could not bear the thought of going to war again. After a while, I found taking orders to be burdensome and I no longer needed the prominence to feel secure in my position. It was time to let it go and seek other avenues. I do not have the wealth Darcy does, nor will I ever, but my future is secure between my family’s holdings and my own.”

She nodded, commenting sagely, “Contentment is a fine quality, Richard, and one I have found most helpful. Wealth does not equate happiness, as we both well know.”

He could only agree with her. “It is the truth.”

She shifted in her seat. “How did your parents handle the news?”

A corner of his mouth turned up. “My mother found it necessary to write to her sister, did she not? I think they were shocked, but have been supportive for the most part. I think Mother is relieved to no longer be constantly worried about my safety.”

“I think that was a relief for the entire family,” Anne admitted. “I know I rejoiced when I heard the news.” A smile spread across her face. “I was also very pleased to know I would not have to be the one to audit the books this year.”

Richard chuckled. “I very much doubt your mother would ever ask you to do that.”

She snorted, in a very unladylike fashion that Richard found surprisingly delightful. “Ask? No. Demand? Perhaps.”

The clock in the hall struck the hour and they both started in surprise at the time. Anne rose in a swirl of skirts. “Forgive me, Cousin. I had no idea how late it had grown. You have traveled a long way today. I must not keep you from your rest.”

Richard stood, strangely loath to leave, even though his body had begun to protest the lateness of the hour some time ago. “Do not blame yourself, Anne. I have had a wonderful time catching up with you. I only regret that your steward will keep me very busy in the days to come. We shall have very little time to spend together.”

A corner of her mouth turned up. “Not too busy for a little light-hearted entertainment, I hope. Mother has requested that you join us for a dinner party she is hosting later in the week.”

“I shall look forward to it.” He bowed over her hand. “Mayhap the books will be in good order and I shall see more of you than I expect.”

She smiled genially. “One can hope.” She curtseyed and turned to go up to her room. “Good night, Cousin.”

Richard watched her go, although he was the one who should have claimed fatigue long ago and retired. His valet was surely waiting up for him. Yet, he could not bring himself to abandon the room where Anne had come to life.

Rosings was not precisely the hostile environment he had always thought it to be. Even his rooms this time around were warm and inviting, and he could not help but wonder if his cousin had been the source of that welcome surprise as well.

From everything he was learning about her, it seemed to fit. Certainly, he had never felt so at home within the walls of Rosings; no, nor in the whole of Kent. His ready good nature usually stood him in good stead here, along with a healthy dose of the outdoors, but he wondered if another tactic might not be even more useful for his sanity. Or rather, another person.

He had told Anne he was unlikely to see much of her while he was here, but he heartily hoped that it did not turn out to be the case. If he had anything to do with it, it would not. While he normally dreaded Aunt Catherine’s dinner parties, he found himself looking forward to the opportunity to be with Anne again.

Sometimes, change was good.

The prospect alive in his mind, he went upstairs to find his bed, whistling jauntily.

 

© 2015 All Rights Reserved Lelia M. Silver