Miss Anne

Miss Anne

“What am I to do?” Lady Catherine de Bourgh pleaded, she could not bear another misfortune, not after the all the others.

“My usual regimen has had no effect,” Mr. Carter, the physician, acknowledged regretfully, “I have been reading of another method, with moderate success suggested by one of my colleagues. He instructs that once the pregnancy is confirmed, a woman in your predicament try not to move at all, if possible. You should henceforth remain entirely in bed.”

Mr. Carter looked at Sir Lewis de Bourgh and with a meaningful gaze, said, “You must not disturb your wife in any way.”

Lady Catherine was horrified as she imagined the great amount of time that it would be before her pregnancy was completed, but she readily agreed. To not stir from her own chamber would be tortuous, but she could not bear another loss. To have seven failed pregnancies in little more than seven years, she was prepared to do anything that Mr. Carter said. He had been recommended by Lady Metcalf, who had gone on to deliver a healthy boy.

Confined to not just a room but a bed, Lady Catherine began to request books. She read and read about every subject that the grand library at Rosings could offer. She read first the history of England, the complete works of Shakespeare, and every novel but then she read about animal husbandry, crop rotation, modern house design, principles of gardening, training of puppies, and whatever else someone had deigned to write down. She was a quick reader of good understanding and the library was nearly exhausted by the time she passed into the quickening. She could only hope that this first stir of life would be sustained.

The first child Lady Catherine had carried for the longest of all, he was almost formed and had lived in her arms for several minutes. They had buried him in the family plot, though without a proper name. Each successive baby had been lost earlier, less and less alive when they were forced into the world. The others did not have their own places, only she remembered them and the names she had given each one.

When Lady Catherine tired of reading, she began to interview the servants in minute detail, to learn each of their tasks and how they were performed. She started, with an eye to proprietary, with the female staff but when she had exhausted all the knowledge of the housekeeper down to the scullery maids, she moved on to the grooms and the gardeners. Even the lowly footman was not beneath her notice and she became something of a fascination among the staff, who had never had a mistress who took such an acute interest in every single task in a great house.

Lady Catherine, now in the sixth month of her confinement to bed, began to request interviews with the tenant farmers within their estate, Sir Lewis thought that it might be prudent to protest. However, his wife spoke so strongly about her frail state of mind and that new knowledge would keep her safe and contented in bed, he took it upon himself to send entreaties to whomever Lady Catherine wished to speak to. Various haberdashers, carpenters, blacksmiths, butchers, bricklayers, clock smiths, fishermen, surgeons, bookmakers, and coach drivers were obtained and paid for a day or two’s interview with the great lady. Sir Lewis saw it only as a strange fancy of a woman with that condition. Since the child stayed where it ought to and continued to grow, he continued to assist his wife.

Sir Lewis de Bourgh had met Lady Catherine when she was in London with her parents. She was not yet out, merely on a trip with her family, but he had fallen deeply in love. Her good mother had thought that thirty-five and fourteen had better not have anything to do with matrimony together, but when Sir Lewis had guaranteed Lady Catherine herself would be the next heir of Rosings, her father could no longer see any evil in the match and her mother was overruled. Lady Catherine would admit now that she was blinded by the prospect of being the first of her sisters to marry. As beautiful as Anne was, she had only recently married. Lady Catherine had all the pleasure of knowing that her sister had married a commoner, though a wealthy one, and at nearly three-and-twenty. Lady Catherine carefully recollected her triumphs, for her life had been almost entirely disappointment.

Sir Lewis’s love had not proved long lasting, he soon found out that youth and beauty were nothing to education and refinement. Lady Catherine had never finished her education and there was no opportunity for her to continue, for she had a household to manage and was with child only a few months after their marriage. The trip to London, where the couple had met, had been to secure a master to teach Lady Catherine the piano. That purpose had never been achieved. Lady Catherine still regretted that she had never learned. If only one could play the pianoforte from bed!

Finally, after many days, weeks, and months, while in a very interesting discussion with a chimney sweep, Lady Catherine began to feel a familiar feeling. Mr. Carter was called for with all haste. They were all certain that it was still too early, but Mr. Carter expressed a great hope that it had been long enough and that this time the baby might survive. The child came and Lady Catherine was despondent, for the baby was very small, but then the babe began to scream with such violence in its tiny wails that Lady Catherine was forced to hope.

The tiny girl was laid upon Lady Catherine’s chest and she looked at her with love. Sir Lewis arrived to be disappointed that the effort and expense had only been for a girl, but he pretended his pleasure and submitted to name the girl after his wife’s mother and sister. Anne she was to be. Little Anne was able to eat and cry and that must be enough for her mother.

The next six weeks with the baby passed slowly. Lady Catherine admitted only a few trusted friends to visit her as she feared for the baby’s delicate health. She read over the careful notes she had made from each tradesman’s interview and refreshed her knowledge of each profession and task. Anne grew slowly and with difficulty. Lady Catherine’s mind was often oppressed, it seemed that she had learned nearly everything that there was to learn in the world, except for how to play the pinanoforte, and she feared that if she was to be ordered again to stay in bed, there would be nothing left to learn! How could she endure another five months in bed? How could she be separated from dear little Anne for that long?

Sir Lewis, the day that Lady Catherine was to emerge from her long lying in, obligingly shot himself in the foot, quite accidentally, while hunting. While it did not seem like a mortal wound at first, it was soon infected and even the careful administrations of his very knowledgeable wife could not reduce the fever. Ten days later, Sir Lewis died and his wife took over management of their newly built home and vast estate, confident that her expansive knowledge would be helpful and interesting to everyone.

Many years later…

Lady Catherine was walking down the street in London with a determination to buy a very handsome pianoforte, for though she had never learnt and Anne was too weak to play, she did enjoy music and she wished greatly for guests to play. The previous instrument would be moved to Mrs. Jenkinson’s room, where perhaps she might offer it to young ladies of lesser birth to practice. Having determined that she was a very wonderful patroness for offering this service, she hardly noticed a tall young man in front of her, and nearly collided with him.

“I beg your pardon, madam,” he said very formally, “I am sorry to have lingered on the street when you were wishing to pass.”

“Not at all,” Lady Catherine replied, “Though you ought not have stopped, it was I who did not attend to my surroundings.”

She noticed that the young man had stopped to adjust his shoe, which seemed rather worn and ill-cared for. She knew exactly what to suggest, “If you cannot immediately procure new footwear, you must take more care with what you have. If you merely treat them once daily with olive oil and add some linen inside to cushion your foot, I am certain they will last you a few more months.”

“How insightful! I had never considered the proper care. How foolish of me. I have been remiss, however, let me make my introduction, Mr. William Collins, my lady.”

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I notice that you have a stain on your sleeve, have you tried vinegar or the juice of limes?”

“No, I had not considered it. May I observe, Lady Catherine, that you are a fountain of knowledge, the most well-informed lady that I have met in all my days,” Mr. Collins gushed.

After ruining many friendships with her advice and know-it-all nature, Lady Catherine was immediately taken with the young man, “What is your business in London?” she asked.

“I am to take my orders,” Mr. Collins replied, “Though I do not yet have a living to claim, I have hopes of taking a curacy and convincing the patron of my worth.”

“I am convinced already,” Lady Catherine opened her reticule, “Please, take my card. I have a living to dispose of and you seem the exact sort of man I wish to bestow my patronage upon. You shall come to dinner tomorrow.”

Mr. Collins, having not prepared at all for this eventuality, was only able to bestow his most ardent thanks upon the lady. She went on to conclude her business. It would be a great thing to have such a willing recipient for her knowledge right beside her grand house. What a very fortunate meeting this had been! She began to consider what improvements she might be able to commission for the parsonage.

Fin