want to marry him?”
Belle cast her cousin a dark look. “Of course I do not. It does not matter whom I wish to marry, they will always say no, I am too young, I do not know what I want, on and on and on. Were they never young, were they never in love? It is too bad, and I hate them all.”
The rest of the journey to London was accomplished with no mishap beyond Belle throwing a tantrum when she remembered she had left a favourite novel behind on the sofa in her room.
“I had not finished it, and it was so exciting, what am I to read now?”
“I dare say you may find a copy of it in one of the libraries, or Lady Fanny may have it, if it is a new book.”
“Oh, yes, well, perhaps you are right, everyone is reading it, to be sure, and I dare say Fanny will have subscribed for it.”
The carriage turned into Aubrey Square as the shadows werelengthening across the garden in the centre of the square. Lady Fanny’s children came running to the gate to greet their cousins, pursued by a harassed nursemaid, bidding them to “Give over, do, and remember your manners.”
“I do not know how it is, but there is always a bustle and noise when any of the Darcy girls arrive, they are all the same,” said Mr. Fitzwilliam to his wife. But he greeted his cousins affectionately enough, observing that Cassandra had grown a good deal since he’d last seen her. Belle, who knew to perfection how to please any man, be he boy or lover or staid older cousin, dimpled at him, and swept a pretty curtsy and won herself a pinched cheek and a “Well, here you are again, Cousin, and in mighty fine looks; country life suits you.”
That earned him a pout and a toss of her fair hair. “It does not, not at all, it is so dull in the country I can’t tell you, nothing but green and no paths that aren’t muddy and hardly anyone to talk to or call on, unless you make a great trek to some other house.”
He laughed, thinking how pretty and agreeable she was; while Cassandra, whom he didn’t know at all well, had that Darcy look, which he never liked to see in a young woman. Pride and intelligence sat ill on feminine shoulders, he considered, look at Alethea Darcy, the image of her imperious father and a rare handful. Now thankfully married off. “They’ll have trouble finding a husband for Cassandra,” he said to his wife, as they made ready for bed. “She will put the men off and find she has but few suitors to choose from. Unlike Belle, who grows prettier every day.”
“Who has all too much choice, with the men all wild for her as they are,” said Fanny, with a yawn. She passed her earrings to her hovering maid. “Belle needs an older man, someone who will be a steadying influence.”
“Cassandra will have to change her ways or she will get no husband at all, not if she makes a habit of slipping away to the shrubbery with unsuitable men. A foreign painter, I never heard of such a thing!”
“Oh, as to that, I don’t believe a word of it. Very likely Anne madea mistake, you know how often she gets hold of the wrong end of a story. Cassandra has grown into a very handsome young woman; I wish she may find a husband soon, for I do not think life at Rosings can be easy for her.”
Neither Lady Fanny nor Mr. Fitzwilliam cared for Anne’s second husband, Mr. Fitzwilliam stigmatising him as a prosy bore and Lady Fanny of the opinion that his deep-set eyes were far too close together.
The next day, Cassandra set off for Bath, slightly wistful at not being able to spend any time in London, but consoled by Fanny’s assurances that London was hot and too full of company at that time of year, and she would find Bath a delightful place for shopping and amusements. “And we shall be setting off ourselves, tomorrow,” she said, giving Cassandra a soft, affectionate hug. “We are going with Belle to Pemberley, you know, for a stay of several weeks.”
“Pemberley!” said Belle without enthusiasm. “More country; Lord, how bored I
Belle cast her cousin a dark look. “Of course I do not. It does not matter whom I wish to marry, they will always say no, I am too young, I do not know what I want, on and on and on. Were they never young, were they never in love? It is too bad, and I hate them all.”
The rest of the journey to London was accomplished with no mishap beyond Belle throwing a tantrum when she remembered she had left a favourite novel behind on the sofa in her room.
“I had not finished it, and it was so exciting, what am I to read now?”
“I dare say you may find a copy of it in one of the libraries, or Lady Fanny may have it, if it is a new book.”
“Oh, yes, well, perhaps you are right, everyone is reading it, to be sure, and I dare say Fanny will have subscribed for it.”
The carriage turned into Aubrey Square as the shadows werelengthening across the garden in the centre of the square. Lady Fanny’s children came running to the gate to greet their cousins, pursued by a harassed nursemaid, bidding them to “Give over, do, and remember your manners.”
“I do not know how it is, but there is always a bustle and noise when any of the Darcy girls arrive, they are all the same,” said Mr. Fitzwilliam to his wife. But he greeted his cousins affectionately enough, observing that Cassandra had grown a good deal since he’d last seen her. Belle, who knew to perfection how to please any man, be he boy or lover or staid older cousin, dimpled at him, and swept a pretty curtsy and won herself a pinched cheek and a “Well, here you are again, Cousin, and in mighty fine looks; country life suits you.”
That earned him a pout and a toss of her fair hair. “It does not, not at all, it is so dull in the country I can’t tell you, nothing but green and no paths that aren’t muddy and hardly anyone to talk to or call on, unless you make a great trek to some other house.”
He laughed, thinking how pretty and agreeable she was; while Cassandra, whom he didn’t know at all well, had that Darcy look, which he never liked to see in a young woman. Pride and intelligence sat ill on feminine shoulders, he considered, look at Alethea Darcy, the image of her imperious father and a rare handful. Now thankfully married off. “They’ll have trouble finding a husband for Cassandra,” he said to his wife, as they made ready for bed. “She will put the men off and find she has but few suitors to choose from. Unlike Belle, who grows prettier every day.”
“Who has all too much choice, with the men all wild for her as they are,” said Fanny, with a yawn. She passed her earrings to her hovering maid. “Belle needs an older man, someone who will be a steadying influence.”
“Cassandra will have to change her ways or she will get no husband at all, not if she makes a habit of slipping away to the shrubbery with unsuitable men. A foreign painter, I never heard of such a thing!”
“Oh, as to that, I don’t believe a word of it. Very likely Anne madea mistake, you know how often she gets hold of the wrong end of a story. Cassandra has grown into a very handsome young woman; I wish she may find a husband soon, for I do not think life at Rosings can be easy for her.”
Neither Lady Fanny nor Mr. Fitzwilliam cared for Anne’s second husband, Mr. Fitzwilliam stigmatising him as a prosy bore and Lady Fanny of the opinion that his deep-set eyes were far too close together.
The next day, Cassandra set off for Bath, slightly wistful at not being able to spend any time in London, but consoled by Fanny’s assurances that London was hot and too full of company at that time of year, and she would find Bath a delightful place for shopping and amusements. “And we shall be setting off ourselves, tomorrow,” she said, giving Cassandra a soft, affectionate hug. “We are going with Belle to Pemberley, you know, for a stay of several weeks.”
“Pemberley!” said Belle without enthusiasm. “More country; Lord, how bored I
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