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Days later, Anne woke up earlier than had been her wont the last time she stayed in that room—her room, the room in which she had passed the bulk of her youth. It was not unlike her room at Pemberley with its large canopied bed with navy satin covers. Albeit not very feminine, as Lady Catherine often complained, navy blue was Anne’s favourite colour; hence, it was settled that her room should be of said colour.

There was a special reason for her early awakening. She planned to have breakfast with her cousin Richard and, if she were persuasive enough, she would encourage him to have a turn around the garden afterwards. Anne liked her cousin very much and should she find herself the happy recipient of his tender regard, then she would not complain. Of course, she needed to be careful to be subtle in her attempts to garner his affections. After the manner of her wild and out of control pursuit of Darcy, Anne never wished to make such a mistake again. In this attempt, she had her uncle Matlock’s blessing.

Or maybe it was not such a blessing after all, for he had been the one to persuade me to pursue Darcy as zealously as I did. What a mistake that had been. Anne did not intend to make the same mistake twice. Her hand on the door handle, she released it and headed back to her dressing table. Her maid had done a fine job with her hair. In addition, Anne’s manner of dress had improved considerably of late. She ran her hands along her face. I can surely stand a bit more colour. With that, she pinched her cheeks. Oh, what is the use? No—I must not think that way. If I am to garner my cousin’s affections, I must be positive.

Anne was sitting at the table when Richard sauntered into the room. “Anne, what a surprise it is to see you this morning.”

“Not an unwelcome surprise, I hope.”

Richard walked over to the sideboard and loaded his plate with eggs and assorted meats.

“Quite the contrary. It is always a pleasure to have someone to dine with. Normally that would have been Darcy, but I suppose his newfound marital felicity renders him a late riser.”

Richard remembered that, in spite of his cousin’s age and her near-spinster status, she likely retained the sensibilities of a maiden. He coloured. “I beg your pardon, Anne.”

“You need not apologise. Even young Ben has made mention of his parents’ wont of being late risers, unlike before they were married.”

Richard smiled heartily at this account of his young cousin. “Anne, how are you enjoying your stay at Pemberley?”

“I can honestly say I am spending some of the happiest days of my life.”

“I am delighted to hear that. It is just as I knew it would be.”

“Yes, you were very instrumental in helping me to face the reality of my situation. I do declare I find myself forever in your debt—one I am most eager to settle.”

“Your happiness is all the repayment I could ever want.”

“You are very kind to me, Richard. And though we have not always seen eye to eye, I should like to say that you and I are well on our way to being the dearest of cousins as well as friends.”

If my father had his say, we would be much more than friends. He dared not say a word of that to Anne. He knew not how she might feel, but it would not do to give her false hope. As much as he was beginning to appreciate his cousin, he did not suffer the kind of attraction that might render him a suitable husband for her, regardless of his father’s hopes and dreams.

“Elizabeth, I received word that you wanted to see me.” Darcy espied his wife sitting in the window seat overlooking the gardens where Ben was playing outside. She clutched a letter. He hurried to her side. “Elizabeth, you have been crying.” He brushed her tears from her cheek. “What has happened?”

“I have a letter from Jane.”

“Has something happened to one of her family?”

“Jane writes from Longbourn. Papa has suffered a stroke, at least that is what Jane suspects. He is rendered incapacitated, barely conscious and unable to speak. I am afraid the news is very grim.”

“Elizabeth, my love, I am truly sorry. I trust you will want to leave Kent and travel to Hertfordshire.”

“Yes, as soon as can be.”

Darcy leaned forward and encouraged her into his strong embrace. “Of course, as soon as can be. I shall make arrangements.” He stood and took her by the hand. “Come. Lie here and rest while I see to our departure.”

Moments later, Darcy found his cousin lounging in the parlour. “Richard, Elizabeth has received grave news from Hertfordshire. It has to do with her father. I am afraid he may have suffered a stroke.”

“That is grave indeed.”

“You will understand that Elizabeth is most anxious to take her leave of Kent so she might be by her father’s side. It dictates that she and I travel light and with all due haste. I shall need a favour of you.”

“Anything, my friend. You need only ask, and I will do all I can.”

“I was counting on you to say that. I ask you to see that Georgiana and Ben are escorted to London. You may take them to stay with Lord and Lady Matlock until Elizabeth and I fully discern the situation in Hertfordshire.”

Relying heavily upon the aid of her walking stick, Lady Catherine ambled into the room. “What is it that you are saying about a situation in Hertfordshire, Darcy?”

“Elizabeth has received word from Longbourn of a rather sad nature as regards her father.”