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Authors: Elizabeth Aston

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BOOK: The Darcy Code
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What did he mean by that?

"No, I shan't say any more, your years are too tender for me to sully your ears them with that kind of thing. Time enough for scandal when you're a few years older."

"I never heard anything scandalous about Mr. Standish."

"Oh, not yet. Scandals really begin once a man is married."

Anna hit back. "You are a clergyman, sir. I would think that you would uphold the married state, and not make caustic remarks about it."

"It is precisely because I value the bond of marriage that I do make caustic remarks about those who ignore that bond and stray into the wilder reaches of adultery."

Was he actually saying that he thought that Mr. Standish would be a philanderer, once he was married? No, he was saying he was already a philanderer and would continue in that way once he was married.

He was quite mistaken, of course he was.

"The young lady next to him, she is an interesting creature. Quite beautiful, don't you agree?"

Anna did not agree, but she said nothing. She sat in silence while the clergyman continued with a flow of easy talk, her head and heart alike confused, his hateful words echoing in her ears.

A score of broken hearts? Could it be true?

Was she destined to be one of the score? No, impossible. Mr. Standish loved her, he hadn't loved Amelia Norton or - any of the others? How many others?

Her heart felt as chilled as the iced pudding that was melting on the plate in front of her.

 

The ball to which Anna had looked forward with such anticipation was even more distressing and disheartening than the dinner party. She knew she looked well enough, and she was thankful to see, catching sight of herself in one of the gilt framed mirrors that lined the passage leading from the dining room to the ballroom at the rear of the house, that she didn't look as wretched as she felt, and that restored her confidence a little. Then ahead of her she saw the elegant figure of Lady Flavia, and her spirits sank again.

No, she could not, would not, let that woman spoil her evening. In that kind of company, perhaps Mr. Standish felt he had to be more serious. In the crush of the ballroom with the music and all the atmosphere that accompanied a fashionable ball, he would soon be at her side, asking her to dance.

But he wasn't, and he didn't. Freddie claimed her hand for the first dance, and then she danced with various other young men. She never wanted for partners, and innate pride and the knowledge that she mustn't show her emotions on a public occasion like this kept a smile on her face and a lightness to her feet. Who would have thought she would ever be thankful that her governess had been so strict about how she should comport herself. She didn't want the pitying stares of any of her friends, nor whispers. She must look as though she were having a wonderful time, and didn't give a fig whether Mr. Standish asked her to dance or not.

Before this dreadful evening began, she had looked forward to being escorted to the supper room by him. It was not to be: he had stood up for a second dance with Lady Flavia, and she walked to the supper room on his arm.

Anna knew that Freddie would, inevitably, appear, but to her surprise she found Mr. Vere at her side. He held out an arm, and said with a smile, "Allow me to escort you, Miss Gosforth, I believe you have not yet had supper."

She could see from the stares of her friends that she had astonished them. Henrietta whispered in her ear as they went past, "Smile, be pleasant to Mr. Vere. You may fancy Mr. Standish, but Mr. Vere is a man of twice his fortune and consequence."

Anna gave a toss of her head. As if she was going to set out to make herself pleasing to a man simply because he had a large fortune and was considered important. Yet good manners prevailed, and she forced herself to be agreeable company to Mr. Vere. She felt that he found her amusing, which annoyed her, and that he was laughing at her which annoyed her even more. He quizzed her about her reading. "Are you a keen reader, Miss Gosforth, have you read any exciting novels recently?"

"You intend to despise me; I know what you men think of women who read novels. But I will tell you that I have just finished the third volume of
The Haunted Henge
, and I enjoyed it extremely."

"Indeed I do not despise you," he said promptly. "I just finished it myself, my sister recommended it. I consider it an excellent story."

Both his courtesy and his taste in books surprised her, but now she felt they had exhausted that topic and didn't know what else to talk about. On an impulse she said, "My cousin Freddie was telling me that everyone is talking about
France
. You must know, why is that the topic of the moment?"

He looked surprised. "I would have thought in your house, Miss Gosforth, your father would have spoken of it."

"He never speaks of such things, not to me."

"He considers you are too young, or maybe he doesn't wish to spoil your enjoyment of your season."

She felt a sudden spurt of anxiety. What could possibly be happening in
France
that would be bad enough to have any effect on her season? And then, with more anxiety, in which case, what of Harriet?

"Things with regard to
France
are at the moment exceedingly serious. It is clear that the peace that was agreed at
Amiens
a year ago is about to be broken, not by us but by the French, and by that ill-fated man Napoleon. He is determined to plunge his country into war again, and to run riot all over
Europe
once more.

"But we are not
Europe
, are we?"

"We like to think not, but indeed only twenty-three miles of sea that separates us from
France
, and it seems likely that Bonaparte has drawn up invasion plans to cross the Channel. We would dearly like to know what his plans are, but it is obvious that given the chance, he and a large number of soldiers would be prepared to land in
England
."

Anna frowned. "You cannot be serious.
England
has never been invaded, not since William the Conqueror."

"There have been one or two other incidents, the Dutch sailed up the
Thames
in 1667."

"I know, and I know of the
Barbary
pirates’ raids, but that is quite different to a French army coming in. Why, what would they do?"

"Take over the government of the country, as they have done in several other places. How is your French, Miss Gosforth? You may have need of it sooner than you think."

"Impossible. We have an army, we would never be defeated by the French, and they would never dare to cross the Channel and land on our shores, surely?"

"We have been doing what we can to prepare our army. And, thank God, we have the navy. That is, realistically, our only protection against the French. But they have been building ships furiously; good ships, fast ships, better than ours, I have to say. Sometimes it is easier for a nation that has a single man who has but to say, Do this and Do not do that, to prosper in war in comparison to a country where everything depends on arguments in a Parliament where there are all kinds of opposing factions and men with differing views."

"Surely when there is a question of war, everyone must agree that we have to defend ourselves and put any French invaders to flight."

"You would think so," he said somewhat dryly, "but in fact it is not the case. There are those in parliament who would like us to come to some agreement with Napoleon. An agreement that would probably be disastrous for us."

Anna was out of her depth, and knew it. "Men would do deals with the French? Such persons would betray our country, they would be branded as traitors."

"Treason is a strong word, Miss Gosforth."

Mr. Vere escorted her back to the ballroom, and then with a polite bow, requested her hand for the next dance and led her into the set. He danced well, but was not a chatty partner. Mr. Standish was only a little way further down the line, and Anna had to force herself not to let her eyes fly to him at every turn and step of the dance.

She was still bewildered and anguished, and beginning to become angry. She must talk to him, find out why he was behaving like this.

Her chance came a little later, when finally, after she had given up all hope, he came towards her, bowed and led her out on to the floor. He wasn't at all his usual self; there was no flirtatiousness, no admiration in his glance. He was formal, as though he were dancing for the first time with a stranger. He made polite remarks about the dance and the music and the company, complimented her on her light-footedness, but it was as though all that had passed between them these last weeks had never happened.

She longed to ask him, What have I done, how have I offended you, what has changed you so?" But how could she, in such a public place as a ballroom? No, she must dance and hold her head high and pretend that nothing was the matter.

 

When they met the next morning, to discuss the ball as they always did, Henrietta found Anna in low spirits. She was fractious, said the chocolate at breakfast had disagreed with her, and Henrietta, after one glance at her face, diagnosed a sleepless and a tearful night. Anna denied this, saying it was merely that she had the headache, and was out of sorts. Mama had told her to stay in bed, but she didn't want to; it was hot and uncomfortable in bed and she preferred to be up and doing.

Henrietta said shrewdly, "You are distressed because Mr. Standish behaved so coldly towards you last night. I noticed it, everybody did; it was most conspicuous after all the attention he has been paying you. And it was also conspicuous how much attention he paid to Lady Flavia Gibson. He danced with her twice, you know, and took her into supper."

Anna said nothing; did Henrietta imagine she wasn't aware of this? Or that she wanted to be reminded of it?

"Have you quarrelled?" Henrietta asked, her face alight with curiosity. "That was what I told everybody who asked, that you had had a tiff."

Anna could only be grateful to Henrietta. Mr. Standish's coldness was one thing, and inexplicable. But for the world to think it was a lover's tiff, that would put a much better aspect on it. At least as far as her pride was concerned.

"However, I do not think that is the truth. There are rumours flying about that he intends to offer for Lady Flavia. It would be a good match for him, they say, because she is so clever and related to everyone in the Party. Everyone says she is bound to become a great political hostess."

"That is a horrid ambition for any woman to have." Anna couldn't comprehend it. Mr. Standish had been attracted to her, she could tell. So how, if he was attracted by someone like her, could he contemplate marrying someone as serious as Lady Flavia? She seemed to Anna to have no sense of humour, no liveliness about her at all.

"Of course she is beautiful," Henrietta said, "and she has a large fortune, they say she is worth at least thirty thousand pounds."

"Oh, please let us not talk about Mr. Standish any more," Anna said, sounding distinctly peevish. "I told you my head hurts, and I think maybe I have caught a cold." She gave a little cough as though to add verisimilitude to this statement.

"I dare say you may very well have caught a cold, it was so stuffy last night in that ballroom. Yet I wouldn't have missed it for anything, it was a delightful ball, I enjoyed myself hugely."

Good for you, thought Anna; so did not I.

"I called to ask if you will accompany me to the library. However if your mama says that you are to stay indoors and in bed, I dare say you would prefer not to go out."

But Anna declared that a walk in the fresh air was just what she needed, and the two girls set off together to walk the short distance to
Bond Street
where they patronized Hookham's library. Anna wanted to return the three volumes of
The Haunted Henge
, and they discussed the book as they walked along.

It was a beautiful day, and Anna hated that her spirits were so dejected. Usually she relished the bustle and hubbub of the streets, there was always something to see and exclaim at, acquaintances to greet, shop windows to examine. She wasn't used to feeling like this; she was the least melancholy of people, how could she be reduced to such a state? This time yesterday she would have walked on wings, filled with expectation of seeing Mr. Standish, knowing herself to be in love with him and believing she was loved in return.

What if it were all her imagination, what if he had been trifling with her, what if she had taken for real gold was in truth fool's gold?

No, she was in love with Mr. Standish, and he had had a decided preference for her. She tightened her fists as she walked alongside Henrietta. She would not give him up to that Lady Flavia, no, nor to any other young woman.

With this decision, new spirit flooded back into her. And it was with a light step that she went into the library with Henrietta, and there, as though in answer to a prayer, was Mr. Standish. Alone, looking up to scan books on the higher shelves.

Boldly, Anna went over to him. He whirled round when he heard his name, and looked at her, a slight flush coming to his cheeks.

BOOK: The Darcy Code
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