Colonel Fitzwilliam's Dilemma Read online

  “Yes,” she said softly. “I can understand that because I feel it too.”

  “Then will you not let me be of service to you? Whatever troubles you, you have clearly not confided in your sister or her husband. Please treat me as your confidante. You ought not to feel so alone.”

  “Thank you, Colonel Fitzwilliam, but I could not burden you. You have enough problems of your own to be going on with.”

  “If you refer to my aunt then let me put your mind at rest. I might not have Darcy’s resources but I share his stubbornness. No one will make me do that which I do not wish to do, regardless of the monetary rewards.”

  “Fine words, sir, and finer principles are at play here but even younger sons must have something to live on.”

  Strange, Joshua thought, but he recalled saying more or less the same words to Eliza Bennet as she still was when they first met at Rosings more than a year previously. Mrs. Sheffield obviously saw more than he realised and understood what was only just becoming apparent to him. He would probably have married his cousin and made the best of it even though his heart wasn’t in it. Since meeting Mrs. Sheffield every bone in his body rebelled at the thought. He had no reason to suppose that lady would entertain an offer from him, especially so soon after being widowed, but making her acquaintance had reminded him that money was not the path to happiness.

  He placed a hand on the small of her back, sensing her body heat searing through his glove, and turned her towards the door.

  “Come,” he said. “The rain has eased. I will escort you home.”

  The horses had had the good sense to seek cover when the rain came and their saddles were only a little damp. He easily lifted Mrs. Sheffield into hers and helped her to find her stirrup. Satisfied that she was comfortable, he swung himself onto the back of his own horse.

  “I must see you again,” he said as they descended the hill and turned in the direction of Briar Hall.

  “I would like that, Colonel.”

  When they reached her destination, he kissed the back of her hand as he bade her adieu.

  “May I call on you tomorrow?” he asked.

  “Certainly you may, although what my sister will make of my entertaining gentleman callers, I can’t begin to imagine.”

  “Would your sister have you live a life of seclusion? You are, after all, out of mourning for a man you did not love. Presumably your sister knows there was little affection in your marriage and will rejoice in seeing you making new acquaintances?”

  Her teasing smile illuminated her eyes, banishing their haunted expression. Joshua’s reaction to it was profound, and he shifted his position in his saddle, anxious to conceal its physical manifestation.

  “I believe you are right about that, Colonel, just as you appear to be right about so many things. You see a great deal. I shall have to remain alert when in your company if I wish to retain even a degree of mystique.”

  Her gaze clashed with his and Joshua was conscious of the deep longing that whipped through his bloodstream. He had supposed himself to be infatuated by a lady on several previous occasions but the feelings he had entertained then were nothing to the way he felt for this feisty, mysterious, and slightly vulnerable widow.

  “For you, Mrs. Sheffield, I shall ensure my insight is selective.”

  She laughed, waving over her shoulder as she rode through the gates to Briar Hall. “Where would be the fun in that?” she asked.

  Joshua bit back the flirtatious response that sprang to his lips, waited until she had disappeared from view, and then turned in the direction of Pemberley, wondering what the devil he was supposed to do about his situation now.

  Chapter Nine

  “You are sisters. The Misses Dolores, Dorothea, and Daphne Downton all have their individual interests set upon the same man,” Mr. Asquith explained. “Originally there were four of you, but I was unable to persuade Mrs. Sheffield to become Doris. No matter, three will work just as well, if not better.”

  “Don’t t-tell me,” Captain Turner said, laughing. “The object of their affections is Mr. David Doolittle.”

  Georgiana and Kitty linked arms and smiled at Anne. “I feel sorry for the poor gentleman, being bombarded with our attentions,” Georgiana said.

  “But at least he only has to endure three of us now, instead of four,” Kitty pointed out.

  “I shall gladly play the part of that gentleman,” Major Halstead said. “I think I can tolerate the attention.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “At first, there is lively competition between you,” Mr. Asquith continued. “But each of you secretly believes she will triumph. When none of you makes progress, you become less civilized and start sabotaging one another’s campaigns.”

  “Goodness,” Anne said. “It all sounds rather brutal.”

  “That is the beauty of comedy, Miss de Bourgh. One takes an ordinary situation and makes it farcical. I mean, how far would you go, what stratagems would you employ, to secure the affections of a man you supposed yourself to be in love with?”

  Anne’s cheeks warmed. She wished Mr. Asquith’s question could be personal rather than hypothetical. He was so handsome, so elegantly relaxed amongst Anne’s relations and Mr. Darcy’s distinguished guests, almost as though he had been born to a position of consequence himself. He assumed the role of gentleman as though he actually was one, making it necessary for Anne to remind herself that appearances could be deceiving. He was so intelligent Anne would never tire of listening to his voice as he effortlessly instructed the players in their individual roles. She watched his fingers curling around the edges of the book, as she so often had before, while he read out parts of the play. The thought of those same long fingers stroking her skin had kept her awake on countless occasions as deep feelings of intense longing gripped her body, sending tremors down the length of it, awakening a part of her she had previously been unaware existed.

  He looked at her so intently as he waited for her answer, she wondered if his question was personal, and if he had guessed her shameful secret. Oh dear, this was all so confusing. She had so little experience with the male gender that she had no way of knowing, and no one whom she could go to for advice. Unless, perhaps… Lizzy Darcy had been so kind to her, so patient and understanding. Could she perhaps ask her? Anne’s blush deepened at the very idea of exposing herself to ridicule. If Mr. Asquith had found her out, then this ought to be a tragedy not a comedy, since Anne had much to fear from any future that did not measure up to her mother’s rigid standards, and little to laugh at.

  “Would you really put itching powder in your sister’s clothing, Miss de Bourgh?” Kitty asked, giggling as she skimmed through her lines.

  “Or ruin the trim on her best ball gown when there was no time left to repair it?” Georgiana added. “Oh dear. I am afraid we are not very nice sisters at all, Mr. Asquith.”

  “Which of the sisters finally triumphs?” Jane Bingley asked from her chair in the corner of the room, from which she acted the part of chaperone.

  “None of them,” Mr. Asquith replied, smiling. “Major Halstead’s character is already secretly married to a woman his father does not approve of. He has to pretend to court the Downton sisters, just to put his father off the scent, you see.”

  “I s-say, what a bounder,” Captain Turner said, grinning.

  “Shall we run through the parts?” Mr. Asquith stood up and indicated the dais at one end of Pemberley’s ballroom. “The opening scene sees the three sisters sitting together when their brother, played by Captain Turner, brings his friend Major Halstead to the house for the first time. Are we all ready?”

  They read for half an hour, with much laughter, and many errors being made. At first Anne was nervous, and her voice could barely be heard. When it occurred to her no one was laughing at her efforts or deferring to her in the manner she was accustomed to, and which so irked her, she gradually relaxed and actually enjoyed herself.

  “Well done, all of you,” Mr. Asquith said w
hen a maid came in with refreshments. “I think I can safely say there is only room for improvement.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “I thought we made a passable first attempt,” Major Halstead said. “Although I will be the first to admit we are a long way from making a living through treading the boards.”

  “Just as w-well we d-don’t need to,” Captain Turner added.

  Georgiana settled herself behind the teapot and poured for everyone.

  “We need to think about costumes and scenery,” Mr. Asquith said as he sat down and elegantly crossed his long legs at the ankle. “Mrs. Darcy has kindly said it will be all right to stage our performance in the music room, although it is better if we rehearse in here where we won’t be in anyone’s way.”

  “Since we shall have such a small audience,” Kitty said, “the music room is a good idea.”

  “Quite.” Mr. Asquith shared a smile between them all, but Anne chose to believe it lingered upon her for longer than anyone else. “Your own clothing will be perfectly all right, ladies, but we do need to think about painting some scenery. A lot of the action takes place in the garden, you will recall.”

  “We could hang up old sheets and paint garden scenes on them,” Kitty said.

  “Absolutely,” Georgiana agreed. “I shall speak with Mrs. Reynolds and see if she can supply us with sheeting.”

  The conversation was lively with suggestions—many of them fatuous, some actually helpful. Only Anne remained silent, mainly because she was unable to think of anything sensible or amusing to contribute.

  Everyone drifted away once tea was finished and Anne found herself alone with Mr. Asquith. That was not unusual. It had happened on many occasions since his appointment as her tutor, even though she was supposed to be chaperoned at all times. She had never felt nervous before but today things were different. Something had changed between them. The atmosphere was charged with a feeling Anne was unable to identify—the one that normally only crept up on her when she was alone in her bed at night and her thoughts dwelt upon the man who had captivated her.

  “Are you glad I persuaded you to take part, Miss de Bourgh?”

  “I beg your pardon.” Anne snapped out of her reverie and gave her full attention to Mr. Asquith, although she was unable to meet his gaze for fear of what he might read in her expression. Instead she looked at her hands clasped together in her lap.

  “I merely thanked you for agreeing to participate. The play would not work nearly so well with only two sisters instead of the original four.”

  “I enjoyed this morning. I did not think I would, and so that surprised me. Unfortunately I was not very good.”

  “Nonsense. You were every bit as good as the others.”

  “You deceived me, Mr. Asquith. You promised I would only have a small part to play, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.”

  The corners of his lips lifted. “Would you have agreed to do it if you had known?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Then you must forgive me for the small deception. I am employed in part to help you overcome your shyness. What better way?”

  She shook a finger at him, astonished by her brazenness. To her precise knowledge, she had never in her entire life shaken a finger at anyone before now. “You are very devious, Mr. Asquith.”

  He chuckled. “I live to serve, Miss de Bourgh.”

  A heavy silence ensued. In her desire to break it and prolong her moment alone with Mr. Asquith, Anne asked the first question that popped into her head. “What shall you do when your position at Rosings comes to an end?” Whatever possessed me to bring that subject up?

  “Find another one, I suppose,” he said with a shrug of his impossibly broad shoulders, seeming disconcertingly unconcerned about leaving Rosings, and her, at some future date.

  The thought of another young lady being the recipient of his wisdom and charm filled Anne with a virulent jealousy. “In a school perhaps?”

  “Wherever there is a place for my talents, such as they are.” He cocked his head to one side and sent her a lopsided smile. “Are you in such a very great hurry to get rid of me?”

  “Oh no!” How could he possibly think that? “I was just curious. You are so very good with people, I cannot imagine you having any difficulty when the time comes, that is all, and I wondered where your preference lay. Mama would, I am sure, give you a glowing character.”

  “You are to marry Colonel Fitzwilliam, which is the reason for your question.”

  His was not a question, Anne realised, but more a statement of fact. It annoyed her that everyone seemed to think the matter was settled, when the colonel had not said a word to her and she had not actually agreed to anything.

  “Why does everyone seem to think that?” she asked crossly.

  “Excuse me if I speak out of turn. Before we left Kent, Lady Catherine told me that was the purpose of this visit, and well, I just assumed—”

  “The colonel has not spoken to me, and even if he does, I…”

  Anne became too choked with emotion to continue speaking. To her great mortification, she felt tears trickling down her face. Mr. Asquith knelt beside her and took one of her hands in his. He had never touched her so intimately before, and the gesture took her completely by surprise. It occurred to her now that he had always gone out of his way not to touch her. He drew patterns on her palm with his thumb, while passing her his handkerchief with his other hand.

  “There, now I have overset you. Accept my apology, if you can. I assumed too much.”

  “You thought, like everyone else including Mama, that I have no mind of my own.” Anne blew her nose, very conscious of the fact Mr. Asquith still held her hand and that his handsome face was creased with seemingly genuine concern. She ought to have enjoyed the moment, because it would soon be consigned to history, but she was too upset and too confused by the strength of her feelings for this enigmatic man to live for the moment. “You just assume I will do as my mother tells me to.”

  “On the contrary, I know you have a very fine mind, are a deep thinker and have more strength of character than most people give you credit for.”

  “Thank you, at least for that.” She dried her eyes and squared her shoulders. Somehow, she also found the strength to withdraw her hand from his. “There, I am better now, and we shall not refer to the matter again.”

  “May I ask you a personal question?”

  She looked at him askance. No one had ever asked her permission to question her before. “You may certainly ask,” she replied cautiously, wondering what he could possibly wish to know.

  “How do you feel about Colonel Fitzwilliam? Do you wish for his addresses?”

  “No,” Anne replied without hesitation. “But he needs a rich wife, and I have a duty to marry someone who will take good care of Rosings.” She rolled her eyes, something else she was not in the habit of doing, but which she now discovered to be a very expressive way to show her feelings. “My mother never tires of reminding me of that fact. She did intend Mr. Darcy for me.” Mr. Asquith shook his head, looking appalled. “I agree with you. He frightens me and we never would have suited. The colonel does not frighten me quite so much, but…oh, never mind.”

  “Please, Miss de Bourgh, say what is on your mind. I fancy you don’t often get the opportunity.”

  She offered him a wry smile. “That is certainly true.” She straightened her spine and found the courage to meet his gaze. “I see a very different side to Mr. Darcy since he made such a happy marriage. He was always so severe before you see, but he clearly feels deeply for his wife. His entire demeanour has changed as a consequence. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley are a less extreme example. I never knew Mrs. Bingley before her marriage, and Mr. Bingley has always been agreeable. Even so, it is obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that they are completely happy with one another.” She fixed Mr. Asquith with a candid gaze. “Is it such a very bad thing to want that sort of felicity for oneself?”

  “To marry for l
ove?” Anne nodded. “Not in the least.”

  “Not that I ever shall, of course.” She spread her hands. “Even if I was free to receive addresses from admirers, I would never know if they liked me for myself or merely hankered after the rich prize that is Rosings. Or rather, I would know.” She averted her gaze. “Who would look at me for any other reason? I am dull, unworldly, not especially handsome and my health is frail. In other words, I have absolutely nothing to recommend me.”

  “Oh my dear girl!” he cried passionately. “I feel so very sorry for you.”

  Anne elevated her chin. “I do not require your pity.”

  “I was not pitying you. I was merely expressing my despair at your self-image.”

  “Why?” His statement surprised her. “You have known me long enough to appreciate it is true.”

  “I disagree.” He sat beside her, and she felt the full weight of his dark gaze resting on her profile. “You are intelligent, thoughtful, exceedingly well read and show promise as an artist.” His expression lightened. “You also have the makings of a fine actress.”

  Anne laughed. “I would hardly go that far, but thank you for trying to make me feel better about myself.”

  “Has it occurred to you that you are actually free to make up your own mind about your future, or at least have a say in it?”

  “If I did, I would not only upset my mother but also risk being disinherited.”

  He stood up and paced the width of the room, standing at its opposite side with his back turned towards her so she was unable to read his expression. “You have no money of your own on which to live?”

  “Well yes, my father left me provided for, but my mother has control of those funds. I am not sure how much is involved, but I think there is enough to live modestly.” She lifted her shoulders. “I had not considered that before.”

  “Then my advice, if you will accept it, is to think about yourself for a change. Think about your own hopes and aspirations, and don’t rush into anything you find distasteful.”

  “That is easy for you to say, Mr. Asquith, but what can I hope to achieve without Rosings? I become invisible. Even more invisible than I already am, and anyone I find interesting would no longer be interested in me.”