Page 2 of Grief and Grievances
Elizabeth studied Anne more closely, struck by the difference in her demeanour when away from Lady Catherine’s domineering presence. The timid, sickly girl she had first encountered seemed to possess a hidden depth that was only revealed when she was allowed a moment of respite from her mother’s suffocating influence.
“Your mother has a keen eye for horticulture,” Elizabeth ventured, hoping to draw Anne out further.
“Ah, yes,” Anne sighed, casting a furtive glance towards her mother as if fearing reprimand. “She does take great pride in her gardens. I must confess, however, that I prefer the wildflowers that grow along the lanes, untamed by human hands.”
“Nature often does provide the most striking displays,” Elizabeth agreed, marvelling at this glimpse of rebellion in the demure young woman beside her. “There is a certain freedom in allowing things to grow as they will.”
“Freedom,” Anne echoed wistfully, her voice barely audible above the whisper of the wind. “A precious commodity, is it not, Miss Bennet?”
“Indeed, it is,” Elizabeth replied softly, her heart heavy with empathy as she began to understand the quiet desperation that lay beneath Anne’s placid exterior.
As they stood side by side, gazing at the unfettered beauty of the wildflowers beyond the garden, Elizabeth felt a new bond forming between them—an unspoken acknowledgment of the constraints placed upon them by society, and the fierce longing for the freedom to simply be themselves.
The sun shone brightly, casting dappled shadows through the trees that lined the lane as Elizabeth leaned against the parsonage gate. She watched in anticipation as Anne’s carriage approached, a gentle smile playing on her lips. It had become an almost daily occurrence, these brief encounters with Anne de Bourgh, and each time she found herself more intrigued by the young woman who seemed to bloom beneath the warmth of genuine companionship.
“Good morning, Miss de Bourgh,” Elizabeth called out as the phaeton drew near, her voice warm and inviting.
“Miss Bennet,” Anne replied, her eyes alight with happiness as she reined in her ponies, returning Elizabeth’s greeting with a soft smile. “I trust you are well?”
“Indeed, I am. And yourself?”
“Much improved, thank you,” Anne answered, her cheeks flushing with pleasure at the sincerity of Elizabeth’s inquiry. “I find these drives to be most invigorating.”
“Ah, the fresh air does work wonders for one’s constitution,” Charlotte chimed in, joining them at the gate. “It is always a delight to see you, Miss de Bourgh.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Collins,” Anne responded, inclining her head gracefully. “Your company, and that of your friend, has been a source of great comfort to me.”
Elizabeth caught the hint of gratitude in Anne’s words and marvelled at the subtle transformation that had taken place in their acquaintance. No longer was Anne the sickly, reserved daughter of Lady Catherine; rather, she was a kindred spirit, seeking solace in the friendship of those who understood her plight. Elizabeth felt a little ashamed of herself; her initial assessment of Anne as ‘sickly and cross’ had been unkind, and, she realised now, inaccurate. Anne’s health was not robust, true, but she was certainly not cross. Reserved, and more so in her intimidating mother’s presence, but she had a sweetness about her that made Elizabeth want to know her better.
“Would you care to join us for tea this afternoon?” Charlotte inquired, extending a warm invitation as she met Anne’s gaze. “We would be most honoured by your presence.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure,” Anne replied, her eyes shining with the anticipation of an afternoon free from her mother’s stern supervision. “Thank you, Mrs. Collins.”
“Until then,” Elizabeth said, offering a playful curtsy as Anne urged her ponies onward. As the phaeton disappeared around the bend in the lane, she turned to Charlotte, her expression thoughtful.
“Anne de Bourgh has been much maligned by circumstance,” she mused, her brow furrowing with concern. “I never would have imagined the depths of her character had I not been afforded these opportunities to know her.”
“Indeed,” Charlotte agreed, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “One should never underestimate the power of friendship to transform even the most unlikely of companions.”
“Quite right,” Elizabeth replied, linking arms with her dear friend as they strolled back towards the parsonage. “And I am grateful for the chance to discover that Anne is sensible enough to recognize your worth, Charlotte. You are truly a valuable friend to have.”
“Thank you, Lizzy,” Charlotte murmured, touched by the sincerity of her friend’s words. “Your presence here in Kent has been a blessing to us all.”
Elizabeth awoke to the first light of dawn filtering through the fine curtains of her chamber. The serene morning air carried with it the scent of dew-kissed roses, and she lay there for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the tranquillity that enveloped Hunsford Parsonage.
“Good morning, Lizzy,” Charlotte greeted her friend as Elizabeth descended the stairs, a cheerful smile adorning her countenance. “I trust you slept well?”
“Indeed, I did,” Elizabeth replied, returning the smile. “This peaceful atmosphere is quite restorative.”
“Maria and I were just discussing our plans for the day,” Charlotte said, gesturing to her younger sister who sat nearby, her hands busily engaged in needlework. “Cook and Betsy are gone to market, so the three of us have the house to ourselves, since Mr Collins plans to spend the morning in his garden. Will you come with me to the church a little later and assist me to arrange the flowers before Sunday service tomorrow? Anne suggested she might drive down in her phaeton mid-morning and join us, so we will wait for her to arrive.”
“A lovely idea,” Elizabeth agreed, nodding in acceptance as Charlotte offered to pour her tea. A basket of warm bread rolls and pots of jam and honey were on the table for their breakfast, and Elizabeth took her seat with a smile, anticipating spending an enjoyable day with her friends.
After eating, Elizabeth took up her book and resumed her position in the window-seat. A comfortable cushion and the opportunity to look out and enjoy the pretty view in the gardens made it her favourite place to sit.
“Whatever is that dreadful racket?” Charlotte exclaimed a half-hour or so later, as a cacophony of furious honks and loud shrieks interrupted their peaceful tranquillity. Charlotte and Maria rushed to the window, and all three of them peered out.
“Good heavens!” Elizabeth exclaimed, unable to suppress an amused smile as they beheld the cause of the commotion.
