Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma (20 page)

Mr. Asquith didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he paced the length of the room, hands clasped behind his back, muttering something unintelligible. For the first time, Lizzy doubted him. If it was untrue, why did he not immediately refute Miss Glover’s claim?

“You must accept my word, Lady Catherine,” he eventually said, turning to face his employer with an expression of complete sincerity, “that Miranda and I were never engaged.”

“Then why would she suggest otherwise, and come all the way to England in search of you?”

“That I cannot tell you, nor am I prepared to discuss the matter further. If you require proof that I speak the truth, then I must refer you to Sir Marius. Only he can explain why his daughter has acted in the way that she has.”

He is protecting the lady’s reputation, Lizzy thought, feeling vindicated for having placed her faith in him.

Lady Catherine made an unladylike scoffing sound. “I am asking you.”

“I hesitate to appear disobliging, but I cannot prove what I know to be the truth, and so will not reveal the circumstances that led to Miranda’s claim. If being a man of honour is sufficient grounds for you to dismiss me from my post, then there is nothing I can do to prevent you.”

“Lady Catherine,” Mr. Collins said, when his benefactress did not immediately do precisely that. “I beg you to consider Miss de Bourgh’s situation. You cannot take the risk—”

“Be quiet, Mr. Collins. If I require your opinion I will ask for it.”

Lizzy could understand Lady Catherine’s dilemma and felt a certain sympathy for her. Ordinarily she would not give Mr. Asquith the benefit of the doubt, not when the possible corruption of her daughter’s morals was at stake. Besides, Anne was almost of age and certainly beyond the age where continued education was strictly necessary. Lizzy knew that was not why Mr. Asquith had been hired. He had replaced Anne’s former female companion, but could hardly be described as a young lady’s companion. There was no actual way to describe his true purpose, which was to broaden Anne’s mind in a way that Mrs. Jenkinson could never have accomplished.

Lady Catherine clearly thought highly of Sir Marius, and of Mr. Asquith too, and was not prepared to act without definitive proof of the latter’s duplicity. Even so, it was obvious she took exception to his refusal to explain himself. Not many people had the courage to stand up to Lady Catherine when she demanded to know something.

“If I dismiss you, I shall not give you a character and you will find it impossible to gain suitable employment without one.”

“I understand that, but unfortunately I am still unable to oblige you, ma’am.”

“If Sir Marius is in Dover, a letter will quickly find its way to him,” Lizzy said.

“But what of the mean time?” Mr. Collins asked. “Miss de Bourgh’s education.”

“I will permit you to continue mentoring Anne,” Lady Catherine said after a moment’s contemplation. “For now. But I am most displeased by this development, and intend to get to the bottom of things. If you are not being honest with me, Mr. Asquith, you will soon be found out and it will be the worse for you.”

“I understand.”

He also appeared to understand he was being dismissed. With a bow for Lady Catherine, and another for Lizzy, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

***

Anne was tired after her active day, but lay on her bed unable to sleep. She picked up a novel Mr. Asquith had recommended she read, anxious to finish it so she could discuss it with him. Their tastes in literature were so similar, just as they were in many other respects. Mama would not approve of the book but Anne found it enlightening and informative. Did Mr. Asquith ask her to read it for any particular reason other than that he thought she might enjoy it? The heroine was in a remarkably similar situation to Anne, burdened by a rich inheritance she had no particular wish to have. Unlike Anne, she was beautiful and sure of herself, determined to marry for love rather than allow her Papa to choose the right man for her.

Anne marked her place, thinking it surely could be no coincidence that Mr. Asquith had recommended the book. Not that she could absorb very much of what she read in her current confused state of mind. Her head was still full of her walk in the garden with Mr. Asquith, the things he had said and done, his use of her name, and his abrupt change of mood just when things were getting interesting. She had felt as though she turned a corner in her mind at that moment. She was no longer a sickly child, but a grown woman with opinions of her own, and thoughts she was entitled to keep to herself.

She wished she had someone she could talk to about it, to help her understand, but in spite of her growing closeness to Georgiana and Kitty, she would not risk discussing it with them. They would probably tell her she was imagining things, and if that was the case, she would vastly prefer to remain ignorant of the fact so she could continue with her wild visualisations. Besides, they had no more experience in such matters than she did and probably wouldn’t be able to offer much helpful advice.

Anne heard light footsteps approaching her room. She recognised her mother’s rapid tread, hid the book beneath her pillow, and closed her eyes. Mama burst into the room without knocking.

“Anne, are you awake?”

“Yes, Mama.” She leaned up on one elbow and rubbed non-existent sleep from her eyes. “What is it? You look distressed. Has something happened?”

“Where have you been? I have been looking for you all over.”

“I was painting scenery with Georgiana and Kitty, and then I took the air with Mr. Asquith.”

Mama looked scandalised. “Alone?”

“Yes, the others wanted to rest.”

“Anne, we have talked about this. It is not seemly for you to be with Mr. Asquith unchaperoned, not under any circumstances.”

“I fail to see why not. He is a perfect gentleman. Besides, no one saw us.”

“He is the son of a plantation manager and you are an innocent heiress who might be seen by some as ripe for the plucking.”

“Mama!”

“Don’t pretend not to understand me. More importantly, never lose sight of that fact.”

“As if I could,” Anne replied, almost to herself.

“Did you say something?”

“No, nothing.”

Mama seated herself in the window embrasure. “What of Fitzwilliam? Has he spoken with you yet?”

“No, he has not.”

“Probably because you are never to be found. Instead of spending your time play-acting and taking illicit walks, you ought to make yourself available. The man cannot address you if he can’t find you.”

Anne considered the colonel had had ample opportunities to express himself but knew it would do her no good to say so. “You are blaming me because he has no interest in me?”

“Don’t be so impertinent.” Mama looked down her nose in the disapproving manner she had perfected to terrorise her servants. “If this new-found manner of speaking back to me is the result of Mr. Asquith’s influence then I made a grave error in engaging him.”

“I disagree.” Anne surprised herself at finding the courage to refute her mother’s assertion. It was so unjust that she couldn’t allow it to pass unchallenged.

“You look pale and fagged out,” Mama said, examining Anne’s face closely and not appearing to like what she saw. “You think you are capable of doing the same things as Georgiana and Miss Bennet, but that is patently not the case.”

“Again I must disagree with you, Mama. I am having a perfectly splendid time and don’t feel the least bit short of breath or unwell in any way. I no longer cough hardly at all, either. I believe that with maturity I have outgrown my illnesses.”

“Nonsense, one does not outgrow such weaknesses. They remain with one for life. You do not have a strong constitution, Anne, and cannot manage the same things as other young ladies. The sooner you accept that, the happier your life will be.”

Anne knew it was an argument she would never win and so didn’t risk angering her mother by attempting to persuade her otherwise.

“Go down half an hour early this evening and situate yourself in the conservatory. I shall tell Colonel Fitzwilliam you will be there and that he can expect to speak with you without interruption.” Mama exhaled. “If he cannot contrive a simple conversation alone with you then I shall just have to arrange it for him I suppose. I have had quite enough of this shilly-shallying. Besides, if things are settled between you and the colonel, then the other matter does not signify.”

Sadness gripped Anne’s heart. She should not have allowed herself to take hope from Colonel Fitzwilliam’s indifference, only to have those hopes dashed. “What if the colonel does not wish to speak with me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he wishes to. He is very fond of you.”

Of course he is
. “And more so of Rosings.”

Mama tutted. “Stop acting as if you were the only child who ever had to make a sacrifice for the sake of her family’s honour. You have been behaving most peculiarly since we arrived here and I feel as though I know longer know you. That being the case, I must have your assurance that we are in agreement and you will oblige me in this matter.”

Anne swallowed down a burst of anger, wanting to tell her mother she was no longer a child, and resented being told what to do and whom to marry. No one had ever asked her opinion before, certainly not her mother, who would not have listened even if Anne had found the courage to challenge one of her decisions. But now, suddenly Anne had grown tired of being invisible. Her anger gave way to incredulity when she realised that with maturity she had also developed a rebellious streak. Whether she would find the courage to put it to use remained to be seen.

Her mother tapped her fingers impatiently on the window ledge as she waited for Anne to give her the assurance she sought. Anne was conflicted, unsure if she could casually commit herself to a lifetime beside a man whom she respected but did not love. Then the implication behind her mother’s words struck home and Anne’s curiosity was piqued. “Did you make sacrifices, Mama?”

“Never mind that.” Anne could tell from her mother’s set expression that no further revelations would be forthcoming. How vexatious. She knew precious little about her mother’s life when she had been Anne’s age. Could it be that she had been disappointed in love? “Of course Colonel Fitzwilliam will be tempted by Rosings. It would be unrealistic to think otherwise. We cannot change what we were born to be Anne, much as we might sometimes wish that we could.”

“Do you ever wish that, Mama?”

“We are not discussing me. I made the best of my life and you must do the same. You will be perfectly comfortable as Mrs. Fitzwilliam. In fact you will continue to live in the only home you have ever known and nothing will be very different.”

Anne opened her mouth to protest, and then closed it again. She had learned enough from the books she had read, such as the one beneath her pillow, to know things would be very different indeed. That was partly what worried her.

“What other matter, Mama?”

Mama was gazing out of the window, seemingly lost in a reverie. Her head snapped around at the sound of Anne’s voice. “I beg your pardon?”

“You said that if things were settled between myself and the colonel then the other matter would not signify.”

“Mr. Collins is here.”

“Oh.” That was all Anne needed. Mr. Collins seemed to think that being Hunsford’s clergyman gave him the right to interfere in her affairs. “Was he expected?”

“He came with alarming news.”

Anne gaped at her mother when she related the reason for Mr. Collins’s visit.

“It cannot be,” she said faintly. “The Mr. Asquith I know would never act so dishonourably.”

“Perhaps not, but if you fix your future with the colonel then I will have no further need of his services and it will not matter anyway.”

“Yes, I understand that much.”
Oh, I understand better than you could possibly imagine
. “But you must give him a character, otherwise he will starve.”

Mama adopted a haughty, stubborn expression. “I must do no such thing.”

“Mama, be reasonable. What explanation did Mr. Asquith give for this lady’s claim?”

“He said it was untrue but he could not explain why.”

“Well, there you are then.” Anne struggled to hide her relief. “He would not tell an outright lie.”

Mama huffed. “Which just goes to show how little you understand the world. A young man in need of employment will do or say many things in order not to lose his position.”

“Not Mr. Asquith,” Anne replied stubbornly.

“Mr. Asquith, Mr. Asquith.” Mama threw her hands in the air. “I must have been out of my senses when I engaged him. You seem to think of no one else. You certainly think nothing at all of the sacrifices I have made to get you to this point. I did not expect any thanks, but I do expect your obedience.” Mama stood up and brushed down her skirts. “I shall ring for your maid. Wear your best gown and be in the conservatory to receive the colonel’s address within the hour.”

And with that, Mama swept regally from the room.

Anne watched the door close behind her, feeling close to despair. There could be no turning back now. The colonel would not ignore such a direct order from her mother and Anne would have no choice but to accept him. Unlike the heroine in the novel still buried beneath her pillow, she did not have the strength of will to stand up to her mama and reach out to grasp happiness. Besides, even if Mr. Asquith offered for her, she would not accept him for the simple reason that he couldn’t possibly return her feelings. One-sided love could never prosper.

She sat perfectly still as her maid helped her out of her afternoon gown. Poor Mr. Asquith. Whatever the circumstances behind this woman’s claim, she was absolutely sure he could not have jilted her. Anne might accept he was lost to her, but her soft heart melted at the thought of him being unable to find alternative employment because there was a question mark against his character. She loved him with a passion that surprised her, and there was one thing she could do for him to prove it, even though he would never know it. She would marry the colonel, do whatever her mother asked of her, but only if her Mama promised to give Mr. Asquith a glowing reference.