Page 3 of Regrets

Hunsford, near Tonbridge in Kent, was nearly two hundred miles away from Pemberley, a full four days’ journey. It would have been a good deal longer, had Mr. Darcy not had horses of his own stabled at various inns along the way, so that the horses could be quickly changed out when necessary.

The Darcy traveling coach was well-padded and as comfortable as modern design could make it, but travel had never been Georgiana’s favourite activity, so she was glad when they finally arrived at Rosings Park. When she was assisted from the carriage, she stretched her arms overhead and looked around her. She had not visited here for some years, but it looked much as she remembered it: very grand, with beautiful lawns and flowers, and an enormous forest that one could get quite lost in if one was not careful.

“It is quite warm, is it not?” her brother asked her. “We are a good deal further south than Pemberley.” The difference was palpable, he thought. The trees here had a richer, deeper scent than those at home; the air felt somehow heavier.

“I am glad I thought to bring my lighter gowns,” Georgiana replied.

“Will you need money, Georgiana? For a new gown, or anything?”

“I have my pin money for the last two quarters, Brother. I do not think I will need any more than that.”

Fenworth, the long-time butler of Rosings Park, stepped out to greet the new arrivals. He was as tall and bony as Mr. Darcy had remembered him. “Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy,” he intoned, bowing deeply. “Her ladyship is expecting you.”

They were led to the family parlour. Fenworth announced them, and stepped aside. Georgiana noted that it looked exactly as she had recalled it, all red and gold, with family portraits on the walls. It seemed that nothing changed at Rosings.

Lady Catherine rose, majestically, and walked forward to kiss Mr. Darcy on the cheek, murmuring, “Darcy,” and then gave Georgiana a brief hug. “I am happy to see you, Georgiana,” she said, briskly. “You look tired. I hope you are not ill?”

“I have been in a carriage for several days, Aunt,” Georgiana replied. “I am a little weary, yes, but not ill.”

“I am glad to hear it,” her ladyship declared. “For poor Anne is susceptible to illness, and it would not do for her to become ill while you are here.”

“Where is Anne, Aunt?” Georgiana asked.

“I sent her upstairs to rest. I am certain she will be down in time for dinner.”

“Oh.” Georgiana’s disappointment could not be masked. Would Anne be tired all the time?

“Mrs. Cheshire will show you to your rooms,” Lady Catherine said, pulling on a bell cord.

The housekeeper led the Darcys upstairs. Mr. Darcy had his usual room, where he stayed whenever he visited. His valet, Hastings, was already waiting for him, ready to brush the dust from his master’s clothing and make him presentable.

The room assigned to Georgiana was quite large, decorated in the ornate style that Lady Catherine very evidently preferred. It had an attached sitting room which, Georgiana was happy to learn, was shared with Anne.

A maid had been sent up to help Georgiana unpack. They were nearly done when there was a soft knock on the door that opened to the sitting room. “Yes?” Georgiana called out.

The door opened, and a pale, thin face peeked around the corner. “Georgiana?”

“Oh, Anne!” Georgiana jumped up and rushed to hug her cousin.

Anne seemed quite taken aback by the hug and she froze for a moment, but recovered quickly and returned the caress. “I am happy you have come, Cousin,” Anne said, in a soft voice.

The two stepped into the sitting room and sat down together.

“Thank you, Anne,” Georgiana said. “I have so longed to see you!” Which was not quite true, but seemed the right thing to say.

“I am afraid you will find us quite dull here at Rosings Park,” Anne murmured, looking down.

“It is quite dull at Pemberley as well,” Georgiana returned. “But perhaps together we may liven things up a bit.”

Anne’s eyes widened at that. “Oh, no,” she said. “Mother will never permit that!”

As if summoned by the mere thought of things being livened up, Mrs. Jenkinson appeared in the doorway of Georgiana’s room. “Oh, there are you are, Miss de Bourgh!” she exclaimed. “Why, I had begun to think you had run off! Good afternoon, Miss Darcy,” she added, curtseying to Georgiana.

Georgiana returned the gesture, but said, “Why did you think she might have run off, Mrs. Jenkinson? Is this not her sitting room as well as mine?”

“Well, yes, but she is generally still in her room at this hour,” Mrs. Jenkinson said, looking uneasy. “When I saw that she was not in bed, I feared the worst.”

“The worst being that she was in her sitting room or perhaps visiting with her newly arrived cousin?” Georgiana was honestly confused.