Read Online Darcy and Anne by JUDITH BROCKLEHURST - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: JUDITH BROCKLEHURST
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will not leave until Mr Darcy arrives,” and, taking her to an armchair, he compelled her to be seated, and sat down opposite her in silence, smiling reassuringly at her, until her cousin appeared, whereupon he quietly left the room.
Mr Darcy quickly ascertained the situation, as far as Mr Colby understood it. Sir Lewis de Bourgh had, it appeared, in a codicil to his will, left money in trust to provide a personal income for his beloved Daughter, for her use until such time as she should marry, when a proper provision was to be made. The income, it seemed, was to have been handed over to Anne at each anniversary. Instead, Lady Catherine had always insisted—from no better motive, it seemed, than that love of controlling and dictating that ruled her life—on its being paid over to her, to be used on Anne's behalf. Anne, understanding little of what was happening, since nobody explained it to her, had always signed it away. There was nothing improper about this arrangement, since Anne had always agreed to it; but if she did not like it, she was at liberty, said Mr Darcy, to change it, and have the use of her own money: “For it is her money, is it not, Mr Colby?”
“Yes indeed, sir,” said the agent, “But Lady Catherine wanted…”
“It is a case,” said Mr Darcy, “of what my cousin wants. What do you want, Anne?”
Anne took a deep breath. “I want to have the money, sir.”
Mr Colby said, “But where do you want it assigned, miss? Are you asking to have the capital, which is in trust, or the interest? Do you have a banking account?”
“No, but…”
“Do not be afraid, cousin,” said Mr Darcy. “Mr Colby, my cousin is five-and-twenty years old, she is not a child. Why do we not take this matter elsewhere, and see to it together that the money is put into an account at a bank, in her name, and I will myself instruct her in the use of it. Cousin Anne, will you allow me to act for you in this matter?”
“Oh, yes, cousin, if you please.”
“Very good, it shall be done. Come, Mr Colby.” And he led the agent from the room.
A S SOON AS SHE WAS ALONE, ANNE WENT TO A SECLUDED CORNER, where there stood a writing table, with a comfortable chair placed beside it. Set beside a window, it commanded a fine view over the park and stream, and in the past couple of weeks she had taken to using it every day. Whatever books she was reading, the writing upon which she was engaged, always lay there undisturbed, and she had come almost to regard it as her own. Here she sat, waiting for her cousin to return, and trying to understand what had happened. Her mind was in turmoil.
She had defied her mother; she had disregarded her expressed wishes!
She hoped her cousin would return soon; she needed to talk to him—or, rather, she needed him to talk to her , to explain, to tell her that she had not done something wicked. How strange that she, who had feared and disliked her cousin, should now be regarding him as a protector! he had changed so much, since his marriage; a happy husband, and soon to be a father. But he could not protect her from her mother's anger. She had accepted her cousin as her authority, rather than her mother—and Lady Catherine was already angry with Darcy, so angry that, as Anne knew, she had not wanted to come to Pemberley at all, and only desperation had driven her to it. Yes, thought Anne, desperation to get me married—not to someone who would love me and cherish me, but to someone who would be useful to her! But one could not hate a parent—one could not disobey. Affection, obedience were owed to a parent. Even, wondered Anne, if that parent had no knowledge, no understanding of one's needs?
But before Darcy came, Edmund Caldwell had helped her. She could not have stood up to Mr Colby, she would simply have done as she was bid, if he had not been there. How kind he had been, how steady! Edmund was no hero: stocky, by no means handsome, never well dressed, he cut no figure beside the
Mr Darcy quickly ascertained the situation, as far as Mr Colby understood it. Sir Lewis de Bourgh had, it appeared, in a codicil to his will, left money in trust to provide a personal income for his beloved Daughter, for her use until such time as she should marry, when a proper provision was to be made. The income, it seemed, was to have been handed over to Anne at each anniversary. Instead, Lady Catherine had always insisted—from no better motive, it seemed, than that love of controlling and dictating that ruled her life—on its being paid over to her, to be used on Anne's behalf. Anne, understanding little of what was happening, since nobody explained it to her, had always signed it away. There was nothing improper about this arrangement, since Anne had always agreed to it; but if she did not like it, she was at liberty, said Mr Darcy, to change it, and have the use of her own money: “For it is her money, is it not, Mr Colby?”
“Yes indeed, sir,” said the agent, “But Lady Catherine wanted…”
“It is a case,” said Mr Darcy, “of what my cousin wants. What do you want, Anne?”
Anne took a deep breath. “I want to have the money, sir.”
Mr Colby said, “But where do you want it assigned, miss? Are you asking to have the capital, which is in trust, or the interest? Do you have a banking account?”
“No, but…”
“Do not be afraid, cousin,” said Mr Darcy. “Mr Colby, my cousin is five-and-twenty years old, she is not a child. Why do we not take this matter elsewhere, and see to it together that the money is put into an account at a bank, in her name, and I will myself instruct her in the use of it. Cousin Anne, will you allow me to act for you in this matter?”
“Oh, yes, cousin, if you please.”
“Very good, it shall be done. Come, Mr Colby.” And he led the agent from the room.
A S SOON AS SHE WAS ALONE, ANNE WENT TO A SECLUDED CORNER, where there stood a writing table, with a comfortable chair placed beside it. Set beside a window, it commanded a fine view over the park and stream, and in the past couple of weeks she had taken to using it every day. Whatever books she was reading, the writing upon which she was engaged, always lay there undisturbed, and she had come almost to regard it as her own. Here she sat, waiting for her cousin to return, and trying to understand what had happened. Her mind was in turmoil.
She had defied her mother; she had disregarded her expressed wishes!
She hoped her cousin would return soon; she needed to talk to him—or, rather, she needed him to talk to her , to explain, to tell her that she had not done something wicked. How strange that she, who had feared and disliked her cousin, should now be regarding him as a protector! he had changed so much, since his marriage; a happy husband, and soon to be a father. But he could not protect her from her mother's anger. She had accepted her cousin as her authority, rather than her mother—and Lady Catherine was already angry with Darcy, so angry that, as Anne knew, she had not wanted to come to Pemberley at all, and only desperation had driven her to it. Yes, thought Anne, desperation to get me married—not to someone who would love me and cherish me, but to someone who would be useful to her! But one could not hate a parent—one could not disobey. Affection, obedience were owed to a parent. Even, wondered Anne, if that parent had no knowledge, no understanding of one's needs?
But before Darcy came, Edmund Caldwell had helped her. She could not have stood up to Mr Colby, she would simply have done as she was bid, if he had not been there. How kind he had been, how steady! Edmund was no hero: stocky, by no means handsome, never well dressed, he cut no figure beside the
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