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  “Will you not now concede that driving my phaeton is much superior to walking?” asked Anne when Elizabeth made that observation. The ladies had driven out, with the faithful Baines in attendance, and had just pulled into the lane which led away from Rosings.

  “I certainly do not concede it,” replied Elizabeth in a haughty imitation of Lady Catherine’s voice. Anne laughed at her. “After all, the fact still remains that you do not receive much of the benefit of exercise from your phaeton.”

  “No, I will grant you that. But I do not think you have repined it.”

  “I have not, especially since I have kept up with my walks, though I have not walked nearly so far as is my custom in recent weeks.”

  “It is the best of both worlds, then. Your walks allow you your exercise and your delight in close communion with nature while my phaeton allows you the greater variance of views it would take you too long to observe were you on your feet.”

  “That is true,” replied Elizabeth.

  “I wish I could walk.” Anne’s tone was wistful, her mien introspective, even as she flicked the reins and expertly guided the horses. “With all you have told me of your pleasures, I do not doubt I would derive great benefit from it.”

  “Perhaps a short stroll in the gardens would be beneficial?” asked Elizabeth. In fact, Elizabeth thought a short stroll, just enough to sate her desire for it but not long enough that Lady Catherine could make any conceivable objection to Anne jeopardizing her health, would be an excellent start in asserting her independence. However, it was not to be.

  “Oh, I could never do that,” replied Anne. “Mother would be furious with me.”

  She thought to push Anne even further, but Elizabeth grimaced and decided it was best to hold her tongue. They were silent for several moments, Elizabeth thinking on the best way to encourage her friend without infuriating the lady. For her part, Anne’s thoughts were unfathomable, though when Elizabeth looked at her friend, she thought she caught a glimpse of anger in her eyes and a hardness in her jaw.

  “Mother does not wish for me to do anything of my own free will. I have never had the chance to live like other ladies of my station—I was not allowed to dance, denied society of any kind, other than my mother’s ancient friends, denied the pianoforte, denied anything that would bring me pleasure. I have not truly realized it before, but mine has been a truly cheerless existence.”

  For a moment, Elizabeth was uncertain of what she was hearing. Anne had never stated anything so overtly critical of her mother as the words which had just passed her lips.

  “She is excessively concerned for your wellbeing,” replied Elizabeth carefully. “While I understand it is irksome, I do not think she does not care.”

  A noncommittal huff was Anne’s response, and when she finally spoke after a few moments, the resentment in her voice was clear.

  “She cares not for the opinions of others, least of all mine. She browbeats and intimidates and screams to have her own way.”

  “She only needs to understand that you are your own person. There is no reason to be fearful of your mother.”

  “I am not afraid of my mother. It is simply . . .” Anne’s eyes were distant, as if she could see to the very edge of the world and beyond. “I have never considered doing anything contrary to her design. She informs me what she wishes and I do it, and there has never been any question about whether I will obey.”

  “You are of age, Anne.” Elizabeth was not even certain her friend had heard her quiet comment, but she continued nonetheless. “I do not advocate rebellion and discord between you, but eventually she must take your wishes into account. You are your own person, intelligent and capable, and you must be treated as such.”

  Elizabeth’s words had no visible effect on Anne, but she thought they were heard all the same. As they continued along the road, Anne was quiet and contemplative, and Elizabeth did not know what to say. When they had ridden on for some minutes, she thought she heard her friend say, “I just wish to live,” but she could not be certain.

  It was also common for them to stop by the parsonage during their phaeton rides, and they did again that day. Elizabeth appreciated Anne’s seeming desire for Charlotte’s company, as it allowed Elizabeth more time with her friend.

  That day, Charlotte was at home and in her parlor with Maria, and as Mr. Collins was elsewhere, the ladies enjoyed an agreeable few minutes with dear friends. Even Anne, Elizabeth thought, was coming to appreciate Charlotte’s solid dependability.

  “Miss de Bourgh, Lizzy!” greeted Charlotte with pleasure. “I am happy you have stopped by today. Do come in!”

  The ladies were soon seated, Charlotte having ordered a tea service, and they sat and chatted for some time—in reality, Charlotte and Elizabeth carried the conversation, as Anne displayed her usual reticence in company and Maria was much too intimidated by the heiress to say much. The tea was delivered and they sat down to partake of it. After she had served them all, Charlotte turned her attention to Anne.

  “I must thank you for this piece of civility, Miss de Bourgh. It seems you and Lizzy have been making use of your phaeton much more of late. I enjoy your calls and appreciate your bringing Lizzy to visit me, for I know she will return to her home before long.”

  The look Anne returned to Charlotte was unreadable, and for a moment Elizabeth wondered if she was unhappy in some way. “Yes, she will. And it will be a great loss, I am sure, not only as you are her dear friend, but also for the diminution of the party at Rosings. My mother and I have become quite accustomed to her presence. Her absence will be missed, indeed.”

  Elizabeth blushed at the praise, but Charlotte only turned an expressive gaze on her. “Yes, Lizzy is valued wherever she goes. In Hertfordshire, she is a highly sought-after dance partner and conversationalist, and I can think of many who consider her to be quite the most intelligent lady they have ever met.”

  “Charlotte!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “I am sure I deserve no such praise.”

  “And I am certain Mrs. Collins understates the effect you have on others, if anything,” said Anne. “I know that Rosings shall be quite desolate when you go, Elizabeth. I find myself wishing you could stay.”

  The atmosphere had become a little mawkish at Anne’s words, and Charlotte attempted to change the subject.

  “Surely you will have a new companion when Lizzy departs? Has your mother had any luck in locating a suitable woman?”

  “Not that I am aware,” replied Anne.

  It was a diplomatic way of saying that Lady Catherine had not even made the attempt to find a replacement since Elizabeth’s arrival—in fact, Elizabeth was certain the matter had quite vanished from Lady Catherine’s mind. She clearly thought it would be no trouble at all to coerce Elizabeth into staying on as long as the lady liked. The truth was that Elizabeth was enjoying herself with Anne, even when considering Lady Catherine’s objectionable presence, and she was loath to leave her friend. But it was time for her to return to her home, for she had been absent long enough. And nothing Lady Catherine could say or do would convince Elizabeth to stay.

  “I hope she has success soon,” said Charlotte, seeming to understand that she had stumbled onto an objectionable subject. “Perhaps you will be able to continue your friendship through correspondence. You have become so close that it would be a shame for your relationship to cease due to distance.”

  “I believe I would like that very much,” said Anne, turning a shy smile to Elizabeth. “If you will oblige me.”

  “Of course, Anne,” replied Elizabeth. “I would be happy to maintain a correspondence with you.”

  “And Mr. Collins and I would be happy to invite her again next year,” said Charlotte. “My husband has already indicated how agreeable he finds Elizabeth’s presence, and how he would welcome having her back in our home.”

  “That would also be welcome,” said Anne.

  For the rest of the visit, Anne was even quieter tha
n was her wont, for she seemed to be caught in the throes of some great introspection. Elizabeth and Charlotte continued to carry the conversation. However, Charlotte’s frequent glances at Miss de Bourgh spoke to her notice of the woman’s behavior, and Elizabeth’s concern was aroused. She resolved to question Anne when they departed.

  It was unfathomable that they would be able to visit Hunsford without an appearance by its master, and as Mr. Collins had realized that they had been frequent visitors at his home of late, he had obviously attempted to be nearby so he could greet the daughter of his patroness. Thus, it was about five minutes before they were to leave that he walked in the door and greeted them in his usually expansive manner.

  “Miss de Bourgh, Cousin Elizabeth,” said he. “I had a notion you were visiting with my Charlotte today. I hope you are both well.”

  “Very well, indeed,” replied Elizabeth when Anne was slow in responding. “We were just riding in Anne’s phaeton when we decided to stop to visit.”

  “Excellent!” cried Mr. Collins. “I have often seen you driving the lanes of the neighborhood of late. It has obviously been beneficial to you both, for your countenances glow with the healthy light of ones who are often to be found in the sun. As my Charlotte has often commented, it is very beneficial to be out of doors, and I, myself, often walk to my parishioners’ places of residence. I also care for my own garden, which, I flatter myself, is industrious and constructive.”

  “It is, indeed, Mr. Collins,” said Anne.

  Elizabeth, for her part, stifled a giggle, for she was aware—as Anne obviously was—that the man was stating an opinion in opposition to the one Lady Catherine would espouse—at least when it came to her daughter—and he would be mortified by that fact.

  “We were just speaking of how valuable our Elizabeth’s removal to Rosings has been for Miss de Bourgh,” said Charlotte, directing an amused grin at Elizabeth. “They have become great friends in such a short period of time.”

  “Yes, indeed they have,” agreed Mr. Collins, a beaming smile directed at Elizabeth. “I am sure, Miss de Bourgh, that you must have the highest opinion of my cousin and agree that her presence has been a boon. I have heard she plays for you all day long and that your own happiness has been increased as a result.”

  Anne and Elizabeth shared an amused glance, knowing that the music often emanating from Mrs. Jenkinson’s room—where they still visited frequently—was often Anne playing, rather than Elizabeth.

  “I can honestly say that I have been blessed with Elizabeth’s presence,” said Anne. “More so, in fact, than anyone else in my life.”

  Mr. Collins fell silent in confusion and concern, and he replied with a tentative: “Other than the presence of your excellent mother.”

  “Of course,” replied Anne, restoring his previous pleasure.

  The visit only lasted a few moments longer, and Elizabeth and Anne soon took their leave to return to Rosings. They stepped up onto the seat, and Anne took the reins, and then they were off. Not much was said between them as Anne drove, and Elizabeth regarded her, noting that her introspection had returned. It was not until they drove up before the stable, alighted, and began to walk back toward the entrance that Anne spoke again.

  “Elizabeth, I wish to thank you for your presence and encouragement, and the unstinting friendship you have offered me during your stay here. It has not gone unappreciated, I assure you.”

  “I was happy to offer it, Anne. You are a wonderful person, and I have benefited from knowing you.”

  The look Anne directed at her showed her heart in her eyes. “I do appreciate that. I am not unaware of what you have had to endure with my mother.”

  “Lady Catherine is much less able to intimidate me than she believes. I have not been unhappy or felt like I was being attacked.”

  “That is a credit to you, Elizabeth,” murmured Anne. Then she shot Elizabeth a playful look, one at which she had become proficient in the previous weeks. “I shall even forgive you when you return to Hertfordshire, though it will leave me in my mother’s sole company. I would be tempted to hate you forever for such a betrayal, but I shall resist the temptation.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Thank you for this civility, Anne.”

  They continued to walk, up the steps, and into the house, and from there to their rooms. Once again Anne had fallen prey to her pensive thoughts, and Elizabeth watched her, wondering if there was anything she could do to comfort her friend. But when Elizabeth asked, Anne only shooed her to her room for a rest.

  “I am able to handle myself, Elizabeth. In fact, for the first time in my life, I have confidence in my abilities. It is all your doing, you know.”

  “The fortitude always existed within you, Anne,” replied Elizabeth. “I have merely encouraged you to allow it loose from its chains.”

  “Perhaps. But without your indomitable courage, I doubt it ever would have been free. When you leave, I shall be well, though I think there is a long overdue discussion I must have with my mother. But in deference to your sensibilities and to avoid the blame falling on you, I will wait until you are gone before I approach her.”

  “I would be happy to support you,” replied Elizabeth, concerned for her friend’s almost fatalistic attitude.

  “I thank you. But this time I believe I need to fend for myself.”

  And with that, Anne was gone, leaving Elizabeth with no other option than to return to her room. She was happy that Anne was considering taking control of her own life, but a part of her worried. Lady Catherine would not relent easily, and furthermore, Elizabeth was worried that Anne would let loose the resentment she had seen under the surface. Such a clash could hardly be productive.

  Chapter X

  The next day the fireworks began.

  As it had been some time since Elizabeth had last walked further than the back gardens, she awoke earlier than usual, dressed herself without Tilly’s assistance, and took herself from Rosings toward the woods to the south. Finding a footpath which had been one of her favorites when she had been staying at the parsonage she wandered amid the glorious woods for some time, thinking about all that had happened these past weeks. Elizabeth considered Anne at length as she walked, but no conclusions or paths forward presented themselves to her. Thus, Elizabeth resigned herself to the knowledge that she had done as much for her new friend as she possibly could and trusted that Anne could find an accommodation with her mother.

  The walk was a balm to Elizabeth’s soul, one she realized she had missed. It was, by now, May. The evidence of the new life which had sprouted in the early spring had now reached a maturity of sorts, a splendor and beauty which would last the summer months until autumn arrived, with its rains and winds and cooler days, to render the leaves their brilliant shades, when all would sleep until the spring sun awoke them again next year. There was little to compare with the woods of Rosings, and Elizabeth found herself enjoying them far longer than she usually did.

  Upon her return to Rosings, she was greeted by a smiling Anne, and she was reminded of their beautiful new friendship when Anne teased her.

  “You have been walking long this morning, Lizzy.”

  Anne rarely called her by her shortened name, and it was greatly to be treasured when she was feeling playful enough to do so.

  “The woods are so beautiful, I could not help myself.”

  “I am sure you could not. You are fortunate that mother breakfasted earlier than usual and immediately left the house to visit one of our tenants. I had cook keep some of your favorite muffins warm for you. Come.”

  Elizabeth followed willingly, their conversation characterized by an easy camaraderie. “Has your mother returned?” asked Elizabeth as she began to eat her breakfast.

  “Yes, she has. She is now closeted with Mr. Collins, reviewing some matters of the parish.” Anne smirked. “As you know, they are both quite long-winded, so I suspect it will be long before we are subjected to their presence.”
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br />   Though she laughed, Elizabeth was concerned all over again for Anne’s caustic comment concerning her mother. She still did not say such things where Lady Catherine could overhear, but it spoke to a growing bitterness.

  “Then what do you wish to do this morning?” asked Elizabeth, pushing the concern aside for the moment.

  “Shall we not retire to Mrs. Jenkinson’s room? I feel like practicing that piece a little more will see me become quite proficient at it.”

  With a nod, Elizabeth agreed. Anne was overestimating her skill by a great deal, but Elizabeth was pleased with the progress she had made, though she knew it would be many months before Anne began to play with any true skill.

  They removed to the aforementioned room soon after, and Elizabeth played for a short time, after which she ceded the bench to Anne. After diligently doing her exercises, she began to play the piece in question. It was a short work by Beethoven, one Elizabeth considered a favorite which was perfect for a beginner to practice. But it was not many more moments before a knock sounded at the door, startling both ladies.

  They quickly exchanged places, and Anne called out permission to enter. The door opened, revealing a young footman who bowed to them and said: “Pardon me, Miss de Bourgh, but your mother has requested Miss Bennet’s presence in the sitting-room.”

  “Miss Bennet’s presence?” asked Anne. “Whatever for?”

  “I cannot say,” replied the footman. His eyes, shifting from Elizabeth to Anne and back again, accompanied by his heightened color, gave the lie to his words. Elizabeth, however, understanding that the man was only following his orders, took pity on him.

  “Of course, I will come,” said she, favoring the man with a smile.

  His relief was apparent, and he bowed, shooting her a look of gratitude. “I shall inform Lady Catherine,” said he, after which he turned and departed.

  “Perhaps she saw you when you were on your walk,” said Anne as they rose together.