Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma (12 page)

“Find another one, I suppose,” he said with a shrug of his impossibly broad shoulders, seeming disconcertingly unconcerned about leaving Rosings, and her, at some future date.

The thought of another young lady being the recipient of his wisdom and charm filled Anne with a virulent jealousy. “In a school perhaps?”

“Wherever there is a place for my talents, such as they are.” He cocked his head to one side and sent her a lopsided smile. “Are you in such a very great hurry to get rid of me?”

“Oh no!” How could he possibly think that? “I was just curious. You are so very good with people, I cannot imagine you having any difficulty when the time comes, that is all, and I wondered where your preference lay. Mama would, I am sure, give you a glowing character.”

“You are to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam, which is the reason for your question.”

His was not a question, Anne realised, but more a statement of fact. It annoyed her that everyone seemed to think the matter was settled, when the colonel had not said a word to her and she had not actually agreed to anything.

“Why does everyone seem to think that?” she asked crossly.

“Excuse me if I speak out of turn. Before we left Kent, Lady Catherine told me that was the purpose of this visit, and well, I just assumed—”

“The colonel has not spoken to me, and even if he does, I…”

Anne became too choked with emotion to continue speaking. To her great mortification, she felt tears trickling down her face. Mr. Asquith knelt beside her and took one of her hands in his. He had never touched her so intimately before, and the gesture took her completely by surprise. It occurred to her now that he had always gone out of his way
not
to touch her. He drew patterns on her palm with his thumb, while passing her his handkerchief with his other hand.

“There, now I have overset you. Accept my apology, if you can. I assumed too much.”

“You thought, like everyone else including Mama, that I have no mind of my own.” Anne blew her nose, very conscious of the fact Mr. Asquith still held her hand and that his handsome face was creased with seemingly genuine concern. She ought to have enjoyed the moment, because it would soon be consigned to history, but she was too upset and too confused by the strength of her feelings for this enigmatic man to live for the moment. “You just assume I will do as my mother tells me to.”

“On the contrary, I know you have a very fine mind, are a deep thinker and have more strength of character than most people give you credit for.”

“Thank you, at least for that.” She dried her eyes and squared her shoulders. Somehow, she also found the strength to withdraw her hand from his. “There, I am better now, and we shall not refer to the matter again.”

“May I ask you a personal question?”

She looked at him askance. No one had ever asked her permission to question her before. “You may certainly ask,” she replied cautiously, wondering what he could possibly wish to know.

“How do you feel about Colonel Fitzwilliam? Do you wish for his addresses?”

“No,” Anne replied without hesitation. “But he needs a rich wife, and I have a duty to marry someone who will take good care of Rosings.” She rolled her eyes, something else she was not in the habit of doing, but which she now discovered to be a very expressive way to show her feelings. “My mother never tires of reminding me of that fact. She did intend Mr. Darcy for me.” Mr. Asquith shook his head, looking appalled. “I agree with you. He frightens me and we never would have suited. The colonel does not frighten me quite so much, but…oh, never mind.”

“Please, Miss de Bourgh, say what is on your mind. I fancy you don’t often get the opportunity.”

She offered him a wry smile. “That is certainly true.” She straightened her spine and found the courage to meet his gaze. “I see a very different side to Mr. Darcy since he made such a happy marriage. He was always so severe before you see, but he clearly feels deeply for his wife. His entire demeanour has changed as a consequence. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley are a less extreme example. I never knew Mrs. Bingley before her marriage, and Mr. Bingley has always been agreeable. Even so, it is obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that they are completely happy with one another.” She fixed Mr. Asquith with a candid gaze. “Is it such a very bad thing to want that sort of felicity for oneself?”

“To marry for love?” Anne nodded. “Not in the least.”

“Not that I ever shall, of course.” She spread her hands. “Even if I was free to receive addresses from admirers, I would never know if they liked me for myself or merely hankered after the rich prize that is Rosings. Or rather, I would know.” She averted her gaze. “Who would look at me for any other reason? I am dull, unworldly, not especially handsome and my health is frail. In other words, I have absolutely nothing to recommend me.”

“Oh my dear girl!” he cried passionately. “I feel so very sorry for you.”

Anne elevated her chin. “I do not require your pity.”

“I was not pitying you. I was merely expressing my despair at your self-image.”

“Why?” His statement surprised her. “You have known me long enough to appreciate it is true.”

“I disagree.” He sat beside her, and she felt the full weight of his dark gaze resting on her profile. “You are intelligent, thoughtful, exceedingly well read and show promise as an artist.” His expression lightened. “You also have the makings of a fine actress.”

Anne laughed. “I would hardly go that far, but thank you for trying to make me feel better about myself.”

“Has it occurred to you that you are actually free to make up your own mind about your future, or at least have a say in it?”

“If I did, I would not only upset my mother but also risk being disinherited.”

He stood up and paced the width of the room, standing at its opposite side with his back turned towards her so she was unable to read his expression. “You have no money of your own on which to live?”

“Well yes, my father left me provided for, but my mother has control of those funds. I am not sure how much is involved, but I think there is enough to live modestly.” She lifted her shoulders. “I had not considered that before.”

“Then my advice, if you will accept it, is to think about yourself for a change. Think about your own hopes and aspirations, and don’t rush into anything you find distasteful.”

“That is easy for you to say, Mr. Asquith, but what can I hope to achieve without Rosings? I become invisible. Even more invisible than I already am, and anyone I find interesting would no longer be interested in me.”

“I find you interesting.”

His back was still turned towards her, and he spoke so quietly Anne could not be sure she had heard him correctly. Her heart soared but she told herself not to be foolish. She was upset and he was trying to make her feel better. She had probably read more into his words than he had intended by them, perhaps because they were what she so desperately wanted to hear. The thought of disobeying her mother terrified her, and she simply could not contemplate such a daring action—unless her future was with Mr. Asquith. That would put a very different light on matters. She loved him with a deep passion that overrode all other considerations.

But it was impossible to believe he could love her in return.

He was a fortune hunter, albeit a charming and agreeable one. Unless he could convince her his feelings mirrored her own, then she would never take the extreme measure of defying her mama. Ergo, she would most likely accept Colonel Fitzwilliam and make the best of it.

“You are compassionate, thoughtful and kind,” he said softly, turning to face her again. “Do not let others dictate the way you live your life, Anne.”

She gasped when he used her name. Never had it sounded sweeter as it slipped past his dear lips. She wanted him to say it again, to take her hand again and reiterate his advice. When he failed to speak, she felt compelled to fill the silence.

“Thank you,” she stuttered inadequately. Lord, she was handling this all wrong. She must appear immature and maladroit to a man as sophisticated as he was.

“Your mother would dismiss me on the spot if she heard what I just said to you.”

“She will never hear it from me, but in return you must answer a question for me.”

“Gladly.”

“How well do you know Mrs. Sheffield?”

“What makes you think I know her at all?”

“You disappoint me, Mr. Asquith.” Anne shook her head. “I opened my heart to you, but you are unwilling to return the favour. I thought we were speaking as equals, not as tutor and pupil.”

“I knew Mrs. Sheffield slightly when I was in Jamaica, but knew her husband rather better.”

“Thank you.” She dredged up a smile, amazed at her own brazenness in forcing this conversation. “There, that was not so very difficult, was it? And yet last night you treated one another as strangers. Why would you do that?”

“I will tell you about it one day, I promise you. But in the meantime I must ask you to keep what I have told you to yourself.”

“You have not told me anything.”

“I want to be your friend, Anne,” he said, his eyes burning with sincerity. “Not because of what you are, but because of who you are. There is a huge difference. Always remember my dear, in this world there is one man who does appreciate you for yourself, even if he is not in a position to do anything about it.”

“Mr. Asquith.” Anne clapped a hand over her mouth, totally surprised. “Whatever can you mean by—”

The door opened, Georgiana burst through it with a question for Mr. Asquith, and the opportunity to pose her question was lost. In retrospect, that was probably just as well.

***

With the actors occupied in the ballroom, and the rest of their guests otherwise engaged, Will and Lizzy enjoyed a moment’s respite in front of the fire in Lizzy’s sitting room. His arm circled her shoulders as he held her close and rested his chin on the top of her head.

“You look tired,” he said sympathetically.

“Not tired precisely, but your aunt makes me anxious. All the time I sense her watching me and mentally criticising everything I do. Naturally, I don’t achieve anything as well as your mama did, and she congratulates herself on always having known I would pollute Pemberley by becoming its mistress.”

“If she thinks that way, which I doubt, she knows better than to say so to me. Besides, she must sense she is very much in the minority. Everyone else here loves you.” Will removed his chin from the top of her head and fixed her with an intense gaze. “Especially me.”

“You always know exactly the right thing to say.” Lizzy lifted one hand and ran a finger down the cleft in his chin. “Even so, I shall be glad when she is gone.”

“Which won’t be until she gets her way and matters are settled between Fitzwilliam and her daughter.”

“Then she will be with us for a long time.”

Will placed a protective hand over the slight swell in Lizzy’s belly. “Whatever do you mean?”

Lizzy laughed. “Honestly, you men are supposed to be the superior sex but you seldom see what is beneath your noses.”

Will rested his forehead against hers, his eyes heavy-lidded and seductive. “What is it that you think you saw?”

“I don’t think. I am perfectly sure. Your cousin is enamoured of Mrs. Sheffield.”

Will appeared taken aback. “Good God, is he really?”

“Few men would not be. She is very beautiful and if even half of what I hear is true, also of independent means. He will not be the first man to have set his cap at her since the death her of husband, of that I am perfectly sure.”

“Even so, that doesn’t mean Fitzwilliam would—”

“And he spent half the evening watching her across the dining table, then spent a long time in private conversation with her while we had music.”

“Oh lord, you don’t think he plans to defy Lady Catherine’s wishes too?”

“I think he might have been persuaded to go along with her wishes, although as I told you before, he was less than enthusiastic at the prospect. That is a great pity for Anne. I feel very sorry for her. It must be hard to be in her position, never knowing if she is admired for herself.”

“Georgiana will be able to sympathise.”

“Georgiana is an heiress, but not Pemberley’s heir.”

Again, Will’s hand touched her belly. “Certainly she is not.”

“I think Mr. Asquith has done his job a little too well, and your timid cousin is developing a mind of her own.”

“I am very glad to hear it. Even so, I wish she would do it somewhere else.”

Lizzy poked her husband in the ribs. “Don’t try to pretend you are not enjoying the drama almost as much as I am.”

“I shall be sorry to see Lady Catherine discomposed again. When she is roused to anger, it is not a spectacle for the faint-hearted, and I don’t want you exposed to it. Not in your delicate condition. However, I also think Fitzwilliam ought to do what is right for him, and Anne too for that matter, regardless of the repercussions.” Will’s lips twisted into the parody of a smile. “It’s just I would prefer if they did it elsewhere and left us in peace to anticipate the arrival of our first child.”

Lizzy flexed her brows. “Would that life was that simple.”

“Where is Fitzwilliam now? Don’t tell me he has been dragged into Asquith’s play too.”

“I happened to see him go out on horseback quite early this morning.” Lizzy sent her husband an impish smile. “I am willing to wager he left early to avoid Lady Catherine, and that he is escorting a certain female neighbour over the estate even as we speak. I happen to know Mrs. Sheffield is fond of riding.”

“You like Mrs. Sheffield, do you not?”

“Very much,” Lizzy replied without hesitation. “If she and your cousin were to…but what am I doing? It is absolutely none of my business.”

“Romantic speculation is every lady’s business,” Will replied, running his forefinger gently down the curve of her face.

“Only because we are not permitted to do anything important and have no better way to occupy our time.”

“Running this house does not occupy you?”

“Mrs. Reynolds pretends to need me, but she is only being kind. She and Simpson have the place running like clockwork. I hesitate to interfere.”