“I have loved you for so long, I cannot recall its beginning, and it has eaten me alive that you mightone day become Mrs. Darcy.”
“Oh, Richard,” Anne whispered, a blush rising to her alabaster cheeks. “I love you as well, yet feared opposing Mother. What are we to do? She will never consent.”
“Anne, you have reached your majority,” Darcy reminded her. “Your mother’s approval is unnecessary, and we do have an uncle who happens to be an archbishop. I am certain if you and my dullard of a cousin wish, a license could be arranged. I will aid you in distracting Lady Catherine, and once the deed is done, her reign of power comes to an end.”
“What do you mean, her reign of power?”
“Are you unaware of your father’s wishes in his will?” Darcy’s dark eyes studied her with surprise.
“I was ten when Father died. Why?”
“You become the mistress of Rosings upon reaching five and twenty, or upon your marriage — whichever occurs first.”
His words hung in the air like a promise of freedom.
Anne’s eyes flashed with indignation. “Why was I kept in ignorance of this matter?”
“I cannot say.” Darcy’s gaze remained fixed on his frail cousin’s face. “You must address that question to your mother.”
“Richard,” she said, turning to her other cousin, whose military bearing seemed to soften under her gaze, “I wish to depart with you and Darcy on the morrow.”
Fitzwilliam’s brow furrowed with concern. “Are you certain? You have not had time to give this proper consideration.”
“You forget,” Anne replied, her usually pallid cheeks now flushed with determination, “that I have had years to imagine how my life would unfold if I had more control, and have devised a strategy to secure Mother’s blessing.”
“She will oppose our union most vehemently,” Fitzwilliam remarked, his broad shoulders slumping slightly, his tonebetraying his despondency.
“Trust in me,” Anne replied, pressing her lips to his hand before letting it go. “Heed my direction and offer no contradiction to anything I say.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” both of her cousins said in unison.
The trio departed the library’s sanctuary and proceeded down the long corridor to Lady Catherine’s parlour, where she remained seated, Mr. Collins having just left.
“Mother,” Anne announced as she entered the room, her voice stronger than it had been in years. “I have consented to my cousin’s marriage proposal, and we shall journey to London tomorrow to procure a special license and wed from Darcy’s town house.”
Lady Catherine’s face contorted with shock.
“Preposterous! Your constitution is far too fragile for travel. Darcy shall obtain the license, whereupon Mr. Collins will perform the ceremony upon his return to Kent.”
“No, Mother,” Anne countered, standing taller than her diminutive frame normally allowed, “I desire a London wedding and intend to accompany my future husband to his family estate to establish a foundation for our marriage.”
“Well!” Lady Catherine exclaimed with indignation, her elaborate lace mob cap quivering with each syllable. “If that is your preference, so be it, but might we postpone the journey briefly? Certain estate matters require my attention, preventing my immediate departure.”
Anne’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “I do not recall extending an invitation for your attendance at my nuptials.”
“But… but, it is only proper that I witness the exchange of your vows.”
“Should you accompany us, I shall refuse to wed.” Anne’sfirm tone cut through the air like a double-edged blade.
“Refuse to wed! Absurd! You shall marry, now that you have accepted his offer. I insist upon it.”
“Splendid, then I shall reunite with you in three months’ time, Mother. I bid you good day, as I have considerable preparations to make.”
With a dignified bearing that belied her years of illness, Anne turned and departed the parlour, leaving her bemused cousins to contend with the aftermath of an outraged Lady Catherine.
“What was your impressionof our cousin’s handling of Lady Catherine?”
“She surprised me, and in a good way.”