The Ladies of Rosings Park – Chapter 3

Every Monday I will post another installment of my upcoming novel, The Ladies of Rosings Park, here at Austen Variations. The book (which will publish in March) primarily tells Anne de Bourgh’s story, beginning with the period covered in Pride and Prejudice (the part I will be sharing here) and then carrying well beyond to her own happy ending. These early chapters, though, will read like P&P “missing scenes” – your favorite book from a different perspective.

The ladies who live in and around Rosings Park (Anne, Lady Catherine, Mrs. Jenkinson, and Charlotte) take turns telling the story. Last week in chapter two, Lady Catherine had her say – her opinions of Elizabeth Bennet and her plans to move things along between her daughter and Mr. Darcy. Today, it’s Anne’s turn again. She’s feeling the pressure. Does she want to marry Darcy? What happens when Lady Catherine leaves the two of them alone together, expecting him to officially propose at last? I wonder if Anne’s impulsive reaction will have unintended consequences.

(To catch up first, see these previous posts: PrologueChapter One, Chapter Two)


 

3

Anne

On Making Oneself Agreeable

 

Fitzwilliam Darcy, whom I had always known as William, was coming to Rosings. Mama had informed me of this, but not that she had summoned him. She let me believe it was his own idea.

“His attachment to Rosings and to you increases month by month,” she told me. “Still, you must do everything in your power to make yourself agreeable when he comes.”

My bewilderment as to how that was to be accomplished must have shown, for Mama sighed and went on, slowly, as if speaking to a small child or an imbecile.

“Smile at him. Compliment him on some aspect of his person or character. Show your interest by asking him questions about himself and about Pemberley. Few men are secure enough within themselves to make an offer without encouragement. And although it is a mere formality in this case, we are dependent on his doing so before moving forward with the wedding plans. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mama,” I said.

Make myself agreeable. That was a tall order. I was not unwilling to do so, nor was I disinclined. I liked William very well indeed, and I did wish to marry him, just as was intended from the beginning. Though I had been of a marriageable age for months without his formal proposal having come, I was not particularly worried. I considered it probable that my cousin was unready to give up his bachelor ways quite yet. He knew where to find me when he was. Then I would become his wife and mistress of his estate in Derbyshire.

When we were all children together, I looked forward to my visits to Pemberley with great anticipation. The vast, untamed country of the north, the enormous park, along with the less stuffy tendencies of the Darcys themselves, set a relaxed tone. I could breathe more easily as we left the heavy atmosphere of Rosings further behind and then the greater distance beyond London we passed. My nerves unwound mile by mile like a tight ball of yarn being released to run across the floor where it would. When gathered together again, it would be remade into something new and beautiful, something fresh and useful. Likewise, I felt recreated each time I traveled north. It was not that I disliked my own home. It was more that Mama did not rule at Pemberley. That was the largest part of the attraction.

Georgiana was like a sister to me. Being a little younger and just as painfully shy as I, she presented no threat. I could be at my ease in her company. We could romp and play with abandon. And we did. While I had my health, we rambled across hill and dale. I even learned to ride and also to drive a donkey cart in those idyllic days at Pemberley.

Georgiana tried to share her interest in music with me on more than one occasion, and I remember her mother gave me a few elementary lessons at the pianoforte when I was very young. Later, I wished that I had taken advantage of the opportunity to learn while Lady Anne was still alive and I still had the ability to apply myself. But there were simply too many other things to do and places to explore at Pemberley for me to settle down to anything so studious. Georgiana did not despise me for my lack of dedication, and Aunt Anne made no scolds that I should be a true proficient if only I would practice. I understood I was among friends who accepted me as the imperfect person I was and still am.

My relations with Georgiana’s brother are not quite so simple to characterize. It is a complex thing with which I never entirely came to terms.

With the young Master Darcy being nearly a decade my senior, it is hardly surprising he should have been no playfellow to me when I was a child. He treated me in much the same manner he did Georgiana – benignly indulgent but largely disinterested in a young girl’s concerns. My clearest and happiest memories of him during that period come from time spent out of doors. He was often assigned as guardian, guide, and escort to his sister and myself on our rambles throughout the park, whether on foot or on horseback. He saw we came to no harm, and he did not interfere with our pleasures any more than necessary. Sometimes he even contributed to our enjoyment with little games and other kindnesses.

Looking back, I honor his patience. I can see how irksome such a duty must have been to a boy on the verge of manhood. But he never complained, at least not in my hearing.

He treated me as a sister, and yet sisterly affection does not adequately describe my feelings for him, either then or now. Nor does the idea of friendship tell the whole story. The knowledge that he would be my husband one day made a distinct difference from the beginning, and the importance of that fact only increased as I grew older. How could it be otherwise? Even had he been a very ordinary man – plain and utterly undistinguished – I could hardly have banished our future connection from my mind. But this was William Darcy. With his superior height, maturity, and good looks, was he not exactly the type of romantic hero to inspire a young girl’s imagination?

From the age of eleven or twelve, my daydreams were filled with proposals and wedding scenes. In these imaginings, William was always perfectly handsome, and I was always graceful and completely at ease, no trace of my perpetual timidity evident. As for how this transformation in me was to have taken place… Well, these were dreams, after all. Logic does not enter in.

I often I pictured myself strolling on William’s arm by the lake at Pemberley, he having cleverly maneuvered to leave the others behind so that he could have me to himself. My fanciful daydreams went something like this:

 

He smiles down at me and presses my hand. I wonder if this could be the moment. But then a pheasant startles from the brush and flies, the noisy distraction breaking the spell.

We laugh and stroll on again in contented silence.

“Such a beautiful day!” I say spontaneously minutes later. “It is pure perfection – the sky, the lake, the grounds. I do not think I can ever remember Pemberley looking finer.”

William stops and turns to me, taking both my hands and looking earnestly into my eyes. “Dear Anne,” he says, “I must agree with you. Never have I seen more beauty here than I do at this moment. But if you ever leave, the picture will be spoilt. Say you will stay at Pemberley always… with me.”

“Why, William, what can you mean?”

“I mean that I love you, hopelessly and passionately. Say you will marry me, my darling. Be my wife, mistress of my estate and of my heart.”

“Yes, yes of course I will,” I cry, collapsing into his arms, prostrate with joy.

 

This is the point at which the daydream typically began to fail. William leant down as if to kiss me, but the picture always faded before he could accomplish it. It seemed my youth and naïveté were insurmountable obstacles; even my overactive imagination could not fill in the places left open by my complete lack of experience.

These melodramatic fancies seem foolish to me now, especially in light of all that has happened since. But at the time, I stood in considerable awe of William Darcy. It is an impression I never completely outgrew.

Brushing aside these remembrances, I came down as soon as Mama sent for me, informing me of William’s arrival to Rosings. It was an added bonus to discover that my other cousin, Colonel John Fitzwilliam, had accompanied him. John I found less intimidating, and I expected that his presence and jovial manner would ease conversation all the way round. In consequence, perhaps I would be less profoundly reserved and appear more “agreeable” in my intended’s eyes, more the competent lady of my imagination. At least I hoped. But Mama, probably thinking she did me a favor, immediately took up conversation with the colonel and left William to my share.

After an awkward, silent minute, during which time I thought of Elizabeth Bennet’s example, I bravely ventured an opening comment. “I hope your travel was comfortable, Cousin,” I said, immediately wincing for how completely unremarkable my remark sounded. This was no very good imitation of Miss Bennet’s wit or even the best of my own.

“I thank you, yes,” he answered. “We suffered no complication of either weather or equipage. And Fitzwilliam is always excellent company.”

“Yes, of course.”

A long pause reigned until he presently continued, “May I inquire after your health, Anne?”

I inwardly sighed at the question. Although usually a mere courtesy – the one asked expected to answer, “I am very well, thank you” – for me it was not so easy. I was not very well, in general or at that specific moment either. But I preferred not being reminded of that fact… and reminded that everybody else remembered my sickly constitution too. Still, I knew the question had been kindly meant.

“I am well enough, I suppose,” I said and thanked him.

He nodded and offered nothing more. Neither could I think of anything to say. William turned his attention to Mama and Cousin John, listening – or at least pretending to listen – to what was passing between them. They were not sitting in silence. Neither of them struggled for words.

Once again, I had failed. If I could not hold William’s interest for five minutes, how did I propose to keep it through long years of marriage?

Mama must have had marriage and proposals in view as well, for she wasted no time making sure to arrange conditions amenable to that very thing taking place. “Fitzwilliam, come with me,” she said before a quarter of an hour had elapsed since my arrival downstairs. “I have something very particular to show you in the conservatory.”

He rose, and I began to as well, saying, “We will come with you, Mama.” A cold hand of fear had clutched my throat as soon as I realized what she had in mind. I was afraid it was all too obvious to William, but mostly I was afraid of the long, awful silence that would most probably ensue once we were alone together.

“Stay where you are, Anne,” she ordered at once. “This business concerns no one but Fitzwilliam. I wish you to remain and keep your cousin Darcy company. No doubt he has things to say to you that could benefit from a degree of privacy.” Then she and John quit the room, he giving us a backward sympathetic glance on his way out. Or perhaps John’s sympathy was meant only for his friend’s unenviable position.

If someone with a pallid complexion is capable of going red in the face, no doubt I did, for my cheeks were burning. I was humiliated, and it seemed the only way to rescue myself – and my cousin too – from the mutually mortifying situation would be by my speaking first, though it ran contrary to my every natural impulse. I felt far more like retreating to the safety of my own apartment than standing my ground. But I was quite sure Elizabeth Bennet would never be so cowardly.

Gathering my courage, I said abruptly, “I am sorry, William. Mama should never have placed you in such an untenable position. Please be aware that I had nothing to do with this.” It seemed somehow insufficient, so I went on, hardly knowing what I was saying. “And furthermore, you should know that I neither want nor expect anything from you.”

His head tipped to one side, he looked at me quizzically for a long moment. Then his expression softened to understanding. “Ah,” he said, nodding. “Yes, of course. I see how it is. I see now that you are as much a victim of my aunt’s misplaced ambitions as I am.” Here he rested a hand over my own, saying, “Be not alarmed, Anne. Despite what your mother has decreed, you shall have nothing to fear from me, I promise you.”

That is when I realized the truth. Fitzwilliam Darcy would never propose marriage to me… and it was at least in part my own fault.

(Continue reading Chapter 4)


21 comments

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    • Liz Iris on February 5, 2018 at 5:10 am
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    Reading this chapter, I feel so sorry for Anne. Dreaming about Fitzwilliam, trying to impress an realizing she is failing at it, and being fearful of him.

    1. I can relate to her. At her age I was pretty shy too. I’m sure I would have been just as tongue tied and inept as Anne in like circumstances!

    • Ann Dawson on February 5, 2018 at 5:56 am
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    Yes Shannon an exciting read for me as in this chapter I feel more clearly sadness and compassion for Anne de Bourgh coming to the fore in my thoughts as well as a great disgust at Lady Catherine and her manipulation. Thank you for sharing these segments from The Ladies of Rosings Park.

    1. You’re very welcome, Ann! And I promise, things will turn out well for her in the end. 🙂

    • Hollis on February 5, 2018 at 10:54 am
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    Poor Anne, what dreams she has and how Lady deBourgh crushes them with her overbearing care. Anne’s timidity will keep her from expressing her thoughts unless Elizabeth shows her the way.

    1. Yes, she is watching Lizzy, and some of what she learns from her will show up later on!

    • Debbie B. on February 5, 2018 at 10:58 am
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    We all fantasize about being the love of Mr. Darcy’s life, but (unless you’re Lost in Austen) the fact is that the love of his life is Elizabeth Bennet. “Poor Anne” is right! Not only does she suffer from the absence of her loving father, an insufferable mother, and ill health, but she’s been anticipating marrying Me. Darcy her entire life, and now she sees that’s not going to happen. Wonderful character study so far, both of Anne and Lady Catherine.

    1. The two pillars on which Anne’s world was built (her father’s love and knowing she would marry Darcy) have now both crumbled. She’ll have to construct a new life for herself pretty much from the ground up.

      I appreciate what you said about this being a character study, Debbie. That’s exactly what’s going on here. We see these ladies characters revealed through known events before we can move on to discover the rest of the story!

    • Glynis on February 5, 2018 at 11:06 am
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    Well I actually feel sorry for Anne here. It’s perfectly obvious that they could never have made a happy couple as he needs Elizabeth to tease and stimulate him and Anne would be better with the male equivalent of Elizabeth.
    I blame Lady Catherine for constantly insisting all her life that she was to marry Darcy instead of letting them just be friends as cousins.

    1. Very true, Glynis. What we need and what we think we want often are very different things. Darcy wouldn’t have been right for Anne, but marrying him was what she had been taught to expect. She will recover and move on, though! 😀

    • Carole in Canada on February 5, 2018 at 11:14 am
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    Poor Anne, but I don’t think she wants pity. She just wants love and the power to control her life. However, being so dominated by her mother, she will need help to her break through…but who will that be?

    1. I agree, Carole! She’s just telling her story, not begging for pity. We have to see where she began to appreciate how far she comes in the journey ahead.

  1. We observers, having a all-encompassing view of the true situation involving Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth and Anne, can’t help but wince. She finally realizes her long-held dreams of an escape into any kind of different situation from that which she has endured most of her life is lost. Although we can’t imagine Anne and Darcy together, we do ache with Anne as her expected future disintegrates in that instant. Her real future…..(we await eagerly, Shannon, a new direction for Anne’s life as she reassess what comes next. Following mama’s schedule has ended and now …..).

    1. Yes, Joan, no matter how much we sympathize with Anne, we can’t imagine her with Darcy. He belongs with Elizabeth, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have been forgiven for trying to rewrite that fact!

      1. Right! But, although Darcy isn’t a viable answer to poor Anne, we await a glimpse into her future. Now, at last, she can start thinking for herself.

    • J. W. Garrett on February 5, 2018 at 9:25 pm
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    Oh dear… poor Anne. Disappointed hopes are the worst. However, did I hear a hint of her being ill and not being alright? Is something going to happen later? Surely Anne knows she is not capable of producing an heir for… Rosings or Pemberley. She simply is not able. Surely she knows her limitations… yes??? That poor dear… I so resent Lady Catherine for destroying her daughter’s happiness. It is so sad.

    1. We’re just told in P&P that Anne’s poor health has held her back, but nothing specific. There’s certainly no reason to suppose she’s incapable of producing an heir. (Maybe you picked up that idea from another sequel/variation?) It was up to me to imagine what she suffered from and if was it was treatable. Since I wanted her to have a happy ending, I decided it could be cured… or at least substantially improved! So we have that to look forward to. 😉

  2. Such an intriguing character study–seeing these Ladies of Rosings’ own thoughts. I can’t help liking Anne a great deal, despite her shy and awkward ways. I’ve always been much the same.

    I hope that Anne can rebuild her life, preferably without her mother’s “guidance” (decrees) as to what is supposedly best for her. Without the love of her doting father and now without a marriage to Darcy, she doesn’t have much left right now. Is she strong enough mentally and emotionally to build a new life for herself? I hope so!

    Thanks for sharing these early chapters with us, Shannon!

    Warmly,
    Susanne 🙂

    1. Glad you’re enjoying them, Susanne! Yes, I’m sure I’m much more like Anne too, or Mary Bennet, than I am like a Lizzy Bennet! And you know you can trust me for a happy ending, even though things look pretty bleak for Anne right now.

      I just love writing in first person, and by switching back and forth between the ladies, we still get to find out what’s going on with both of them. Next week, we hear from Mrs. Jenkinson for the first time. She turned out to be very helpful in getting all sides of the story told. 🙂

    • Anji on February 15, 2018 at 5:15 pm
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    Poor Anne, what a revelation that must have been to her. Hopefully, she’ll come to realise that she’s not at fault and there’s nothing whatever she could have done to bring about her mother’s greatest desire.

    Shy and awkward – that was me in my teens, so I can totally sympathise with Anne. I had to leave home (to go to University) to even begin to start crawling out of my shell and it’s a struggle that continues to this very day, over 40 years later. Could taking Anne away from Rosings be what you have planned for her?

    1. I can certainly relate, Anji. I was much more like Anne than EB, especially at that age. I’m not as shy now, but still get tongue-tied and suffer stage fright if a glaring spotlight happens to fall on me or anybody points a microphone or video camera my way! Anne will come out of her shell, and in a way she escapes the prison of Rosings too. 😉

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