Jack Caldwell - The Three Colonels

“Mrs. Jenkinson might suspect,” Charlotte considered. “Elizabeth, as well—”

“Elizabeth!”

“Georgiana… Mr. Darcy, too—they can keep nothing from him.”

Anne put both hands to her face. “Oh, no!”

Charlotte took her friend’s hands into her own. “Fear not, Anne. It is certain that your mother suspects nothing. No one who would inform Lady Catherine of your feelings toward Colonel Fitzwilliam has the slightest idea as to your inclinations. Your secret is safe.” Anne’s face could not hide her relief. “Safe even from your love.”

Anne turned away. “Then everything is well—” she began to say when she heard a snort of frustration from her companion.

“Not again!” Charlotte cried to the heavens. “Three years ago only I saw what was happening between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. I said nothing, and look at the pain it caused!”

Anne was amazed at Charlotte’s outburst. “What pain? Did something happen while they were here that spring?”

“Never mind; it is not my tale to tell. In any case, all ended well. But I shall not stand idly by again.” Charlotte took Anne by the shoulders. “My dear friend, believe me when I say that Colonel Fitzwilliam is in love with you!”

“No, it cannot be,” said Anne. “You are wrong—”

“Anne, I have watched the both of you. To my eyes, it is as obvious as the sun!” Charlotte tried another approach. “Anne, will you admit to feelings for the colonel?”

Anne blushed, her eyes firmly planted on the ground.

“Anne?”

“Yes,” said Anne in a small voice.

“You love him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you not want him to return your love, or do you believe that you are not worthy of him?” Charlotte frowned. “For it is my opinion that he is not worthy of you!”

“How can you say that?” cried Anne. “Richard is the best of men!”

“Bah! A few medals, surviving Bonaparte—what is that compared to what you have endured your entire life? If he is such a great man, why has it taken him so long to know his own mind?”

“I… I do not understand.”

“Colonel Fitzwilliam has been in love with you for about as long as you have been in love with him. It is true! Only, you have admitted to the truth of your heart’s desire and for a very long time, have you not? If Mr. Darcy had followed his aunt’s demands and asked for your hand, you would have refused him, is that not so?”

Anne nodded.

Charlotte continued. “But the colonel has only this week realized his true feelings for you. I watched him at the Clarkes’ and as he defended you against Lady Catherine. Believe me; he is violently in love with you.”

Anne’s mind rebelled at the words of her friend. For so long when she was ill, she felt unable to love—unworthy of being loved. Now that she was improved, why did she continue to feel that way?

Charlotte’s eyes bore into hers. “Do not let your mother poison you against happiness.”

Anne’s head snapped up, and tears began to run down her face.

Charlotte, distressed, embraced the young woman. “Oh, Anne, forgive me!”

As Charlotte hugged Anne, a thought cut through the jumbled thoughts of the heiress: Richard—yesterday—that look in his eyes. I thought he was going to kiss me.

Anne broke the embrace and looked at Charlotte with a dawning smile on her face. “He wanted to kiss me.”

“What?”

“He wanted to kiss me.”

Charlotte was puzzled. “Who wanted to kiss you?”

“Richard, silly! It was in his eyes. I saw it. He wanted to kiss me!”

Charlotte’s eyes grew wide. “When?”

“In the snow!” Anne was downright giddy now.

“When were you in the snow?”

“Yesterday! After we fought with Mother. He came after me and wanted to kiss me in the snow!” Anne broke free and did a pirouette, laughing the whole time. “Hurrah!”

Charlotte watched in open-mouthed shock at her friend’s exhibition. Anne then grasped Charlotte, giggling.

“Oh, Charlotte, you are right! He does love me!” Unable to resist, Charlotte began to giggle, too. “He… he wanted to kiss me! He must want to marry me! Marry me! Oh, Charlotte, I have never been so happy!” The women hugged again in laughter and tears.

Suddenly, Anne pulled away and looked Charlotte in the face. “What do I do now?”

Anne’s confused expression quickly sobered Charlotte. With a slight smile, she looked at her companion and said, “You must let the colonel know that his attentions are welcomed.”

“But… how do I do that?”

Charlotte sighed. “You will find a way, my dear.”

Upon the steward leaving the library, Richard stood and stretched to relieve the stiffness in his back. As his back was to the door, he was surprised to hear a voice.

“May I come in?”

Richard assumed a more proper pose and turned towards his visitor. “Yes, Mrs. Parks, do come in. Please, have a seat.” Richard waited until the housekeeper was comfortable. “Now, madam, how may I be of service to you?”

“I understand you wish to speak to me,” she replied.

“Yes, I do. I would like to speak with you about the household. As you may know, I am empowered to look into all aspects of the management of Rosings Park. Your cooperation in this endeavor is vital.”

She handed him a packet of papers. “I have here the current household budget as well as the current accounts with the shopkeepers in Hunsford.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Parks.” Richard set the packet aside. “I shall review them in a moment. Now as for the staff here—”

“You will find a roster of all employees of the house in that packet along with their backgrounds and dates of hire.”

Richard walked behind the desk to take his seat. “I have already seen the reports of the tenants and the groundskeepers here at Rosings, but I cannot find your employment agreement or that of the steward.” He gestured at the stacks of papers.

Mrs. Parks unsuccessfully hid her slight smirk. “You will not find them in there, sir. The mistress had them burned, you see, but it does not signify. The solicitor has got the originals.”

Richard took a moment to digest this information. Why would Aunt Catherine do that? Did she mean to sack both of them; if so, why were they still here?

“Ahem… it must be a trial, I suppose, to work here. My aunt can be rather capricious, I must admit. Your loyalty serves you well.”

Mrs. Parks looked at him strangely. “As I said before—I very much enjoy my position here. Do you have any questions about that, sir?”

Richard became flustered. Dratted woman! He did not know what to make of her! “Well… I… umm… the uncertainty! I mean, there has been quite a turnover among the household staff here. I must admit I am surprised that you are still—well, to put it plainly, I am shocked that my aunt has not yet run you off!”

Mrs. Parks’s expression became one of surprise. “Forgive me, sir; I had assumed you were better informed. I see now that you are operating under a mistaken understanding.” Her eyes shifted to the window. “Though how you could have been sent here without being fully prepared! What a muddle—”

“Mrs. Parks,” Richard cut in. “I insist you make plain your meaning.”

The housekeeper returned her full attention to Richard. “Colonel Fitzwilliam, neither my situation nor that of the steward is dependent upon the goodwill of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. We are both employed by your father, the Earl of Matlock, and have been so for over fifteen years.”

A half hour later, Richard escorted Mrs. Parks through the door of the library, thanking her for her help. The housekeeper was everything Darcy claimed: intelligent, loyal, observant, and helpful. The time the two spent together was very profitable, and many questions were answered.

Richard learned that Mrs. Parks was in a constant battle with Lady Catherine over the management of Rosings Park. Mrs. Parks controlled the food budget. All else was subject to the whims of the mistress, including the hiring and firing of staff, with the exception of the butler, who answered to Mrs. Parks. The financial state was not what it should be, but it was not as dire as the rest of the estate; money had been put aside.

This coincided well with Richard’s plans. He saw many places for economy, especially in his aunt’s personal spending habits. He had no idea she spent as much as she did on clothes. Seeing the rather shocking figure did bring to the colonel’s recollection that he had very rarely seen Aunt Catherine in the same dress twice.

As the lady took her leave to see to the dinner, Richard still wrestled with the key mystery. Mrs. Parks could not say why she and the steward were retained by his father or why Lady Catherine had agreed to such an arrangement. He made a mental note to ask the earl about this; he doubted his aunt would be forthcoming. As for Darcy, he wondered whether his cousin knew of the arrangement or whether he, too, was unaware of it.

Richard’s generous heart felt a pang of concern for Lady Catherine’s current state of mind. She had never been a very pleasant person, but since Darcy’s marriage, his aunt seemed to grow more bitter each year. Now Richard thought he had the key to improving Lady Catherine’s demeanor as well as a means to ease his way to acquiring his aunt’s permission, if not approval, to seek Anne’s hand. To his chagrin, he forgot to raise the matter with Mrs. Parks. He started to go after her when he espied someone who would do as well.

“Mrs. Jenkinson! Just the person I have been looking for!”