13. Chapter Thirteen

Anne stood at the window, gazing out at the carriage containing Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley as it rolled away from Netherfield. A slight frown creased her brow. With the gentlemen gone, the house felt hollow and vapid, devoid of any stimulating companionship. Leaning her forehead against the cool windowpane, Anne sighed.

Suddenly, there came an urgent rap on the door and her maid bustled in, flushed with import. "Miss de Bourgh! Your lady mother has taken ill with the influenza - the same malady that afflicts Miss Bingley."

Anne's eyes widened in alarm. "Mother? Ill? But she is never ill!" And yet, a traitorous part of her felt a twinge of relief. With Lady Catherine confined to bed, Anne would be free, at least temporarily, from her mother's constant critique and commandments. Certainly, she would be banned from her mother"s presence, for fear that Anne herself would catch the sickness.

But what would she do with this unexpected reprieve? Anne wrung her hands as she walked, at a loss. Her entire life had been structured around obeying her mother's whims and wishes. She had never before been presented with unfettered time.

Anne paced the drawing room, unsure how to occupy herself with Lady Catherine ill and the gentlemen away. She paused as the sound of an arriving carriage drew her to the window.

Four elegantly dressed young ladies stepped down. Anne surmised they must be the Miss Bennets, for she had heard much talk of their beauty. She had not had any opportunity on her arrival at Netherfield to make their acquaintance.

Upon entering, the eldest sister, a tall, lovely blonde, greeted Anne respectfully. "Miss de Bourgh, I am Miss Bennet. Mrs. Hurst begged me to come to assist while dear Miss Bingley and your mother are unwell. Please, allow me to introduce my sisters Elizabeth, Kitty and Lydia."

Anne nodded shyly as Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth took charge, directing the servants and tending to Lady Catherine.

"Kitty, Lydia, I think Miss Bourgh might enjoy your company," Elizabeth said briskly. "Please do your best to see to her amusement while Jane and I attend to matters here."

The girls curtsied and seized Anne's hands eagerly. "It's a delight to meet you!" exclaimed Lydia, as Elizabeth and Jane left the room. "We shall be the greatest of friends."

"Indeed," Kitty nodded sagely. "It must be ever so dull, cooped up here with Lady Catherine unwell and the gentlemen gone away. We thought you might enjoy some companionship."

Anne blinked at them, nonplussed by their eager overtures. She did not know these girls in the slightest. Why should they take any interest in her welfare? And yet...the prospect of diversion, of something novel after so many years of staid routine, sparked an unfamiliar sensation within her breast. Excitement.

A smile bloomed across Anne's wan face. "Thank you both, truly. Your kindness touches me." She gestured for them to resume their seats. "I confess, I am quite at a loss for how to occupy myself. What do you suggest?"

Lydia and Kitty exchanged a gleeful glance before Lydia leaned forward conspiratorially. "Well, Miss de Bourgh, Kitty and I have several friends among the militia officers currently stationed in Meryton. Perhaps you would like to accompany us on a few social calls?"

Anne felt a frisson of trepidation at the boldness of the idea. Call upon unknown gentlemen? Without a chaperone? Lady Catherine would be horrified by the impropriety.

And yet, in that moment, Anne decided she was tired of being timid, obedient Anne. This was her chance for a taste of independence, of living, before the yoke of her predestined future settled around her neck. Her chin lifted a notch.

"I would be delighted to join you," she said firmly. "When do we begin?"

"Oh, today, of course!" Lydia laughed, tossing her glossy curls exuberantly. "It is a fine dry day, and Meryton is not a mile from here; we shall be there in barely a quarter-hour!"

Anne did not think she had ever walked a mile in her life, but a quarter-hour was not a very long time, so she smiled gamely, not wanting Lydia and Kitty to think her feeble. "Then let us be off!"

The three young ladies set out arm-in-arm, giggling and chattering as they made their way into Meryton. The usually sedate town seemed to hum with energy, the streets thronged with dashing officers in scarlet coats. Anne felt a thrill of excitement at the prospect of meeting these handsome strangers.

Their first stop was the home of Mrs. Phillips, Lydia and Kitty's aunt. The lady was delighted to see them and immediately welcomed them into her parlour to take refreshments. No sooner had they sat down than several officers came in, having seen them arrive and eagerly followed them. As the group sipped tea and nibbled on cakes, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by frequent laughter.

Anne marvelled at the easy camaraderie between the Bennet girls and the officers. They bantered and flirted with a freedom that she envied. For the first time, she wondered what it would be like to have such uncomplicated friendships, such light-hearted interactions with the opposite sex.

Lost in thought, she started when Lydia laid a hand on her arm. "Miss de Bourgh, allow me to introduce Mr. Wickham, one of the most charming gentlemen of our acquaintance."

Anne looked up to find herself face-to-face with a strikingly handsome officer, his eyes sparkling with intelligence and humour. He bowed deeply over her hand, his lips brushing her knuckles in a manner that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Miss de Bourgh, it is an honour to make your acquaintance," he murmured, his voice rich and smooth as honey. "I confess, I have been eager to meet the illustrious daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

Anne flushed with pleasure at his words, at the undisguised admiration in his gaze. "The honour is mine, Mr. Wickham. I must say, I am quite impressed by the gallantry and charm of the officers I have met today. You are a credit to your regiment."

He smiled, a slow, devastating smile that made her heart flutter in her chest. "You are too generous, Miss de Bourgh. I assure you, we pale in comparison to the loveliness and grace of the ladies present."

As he held her gaze, Anne felt a frisson of something unfamiliar, a warmth that suffused her cheeks and quickened her breath. She had never experienced such an instant connection with anyone, let alone a handsome stranger.

She barely noticed as Lydia and Kitty continued to chatter and flirt with the other officers, so entranced was she by Mr. Wickham's attentions. He drew her out skilfully, asking her opinion on books and music, listening intently to her responses. For the first time in her life, Anne felt truly seen, truly heard.

The hours slipped by in a haze of laughter and stimulating conversation. When at last they took their leave, Mr. Wickham bowed over her hand once more, his eyes holding hers. "Until we meet again, Miss de Bourgh. I shall count the hours."

Anne floated back to Netherfield on a cloud of happiness, her head spinning with the events of the day. The exhilaration of new friendships, the thrill of Mr. Wickham's regard...it was like something out of a dream.

And yet, in the back of her mind, a small voice whispered a warning. She had strayed so far out of her usual sphere, had behaved with an impropriety that would shock her mother. Was she prepared for the consequences of her actions?

But as she recalled the warmth of Mr. Wickham's smile, the flutter of her heart at his touch, Anne pushed those doubts aside. For the first time in her life, she was truly living. And she was determined to savour every moment of it.

For the rest of the day, even after returning to Netherfield, Anne found herself thinking of little else but Mr. Wickham. His charming words echoed in her mind, his handsome face appeared in her dreams. She longed to see him again, to bask once more in the glow of his attention.

An opportunity presented itself sooner than she had dared to hope. Kitty and Lydia, delighted by the success of their first outing, insisted on another visit to the officers the following morning. Anne, her heart leaping at the prospect, readily agreed.

As they walked along the main street of Meryton, Anne's eyes searched the crowd, seeking out one figure in particular. And there he was - Mr. Wickham, resplendent in his regimentals, his face lighting up as he caught sight of her.

"Miss de Bourgh," he greeted her warmly, bowing low over her hand. "What a pleasure to see you again so soon. I had feared I would have to wait an eternity for another glimpse of your lovely face."

Anne blushed at his bold words, a thrill running through her. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Wickham. I must confess, I have thought of little else but our last meeting."

His eyes sparkled with delight. "Then we are of one mind, for you have scarcely left my thoughts either. Come, let us walk together and talk. I am eager to hear more of your views on the world."

As he settled her hand on his arm, Mr. Wickham leaned in conspiratorially. "I must say, Miss de Bourgh, you are a revelation. So different from the other ladies of my acquaintance. There is a depth to you, a fire that burns beneath the surface. I find myself quite captivated."

Anne's heart raced at his words. No one had ever spoken to her like this before, had ever seen beyond her shy exterior to the passionate soul within. "You flatter me, Mr. Wickham. I am not used to such attentions."

"Then more fool the men of your acquaintance," he declared. "For they are blind not to see what a treasure you are. A woman of intellect, of spirit. A rare jewel indeed."

As he spoke, his hand rested over hers, sending a jolt of electricity through her even through the layers of their gloves. Anne knew she should pull away, should maintain a proper distance. But she found herself leaning in, drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

Mr. Wickham smiled, a slow, seductive curve of his lips. "Tell me, Miss de Bourgh, have you ever longed for adventure? For something more than the staid confines of society?"

"I..." Anne hesitated, then plunged ahead, emboldened by his interest. "I have always dreamed of seeing the world. Of experiencing life beyond the narrow bounds of my existence. But I fear I shall never have the chance."

"Never say never," Mr. Wickham murmured. "For where there is a will, there is a way. And I believe, Miss de Bourgh, that you have the will to shape your own destiny. With the right companion by your side, of course."

His words hung in the air between them, heavy with promise and possibility. Anne's breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears. She knew she was treading on dangerous ground, that she was straying far from the path of propriety.

But in that moment, lost in the depths of Mr. Wickham's eyes, Anne found she did not care. For the first time in her life, she felt truly alive. And she was determined to hold onto that feeling, no matter the cost.

The following day, the weather was too wet to walk to Meryton. Anne chafed at being trapped at Netherfield, even with the lively Kitty and Lydia to keep her company, until it occurred to her that she could order her mother's carriage made ready to take them into Meryton. Who would gainsay her, with the gentlemen absent and her mother confined to bed? Certainly not the gentle Miss Bennet, nor Mrs. Hurst, who seemed utterly incapable of managing anything without her sister's presence.

Lydia and Kitty both brightened considerably when Anne suggested ordering the carriage, exclaiming how clever she was and what a wonderful friend. Anne blossomed under their praise, and in a very short time the de Bourgh carriage was drawing up outside the Phillips' house.

As it was in the early afternoon rather than the morning when they usually called, Mrs. Phillips was busy belowstairs, but she was happy to receive them and settle them in her little parlour, and very shortly several officers arrived to keep them company. Mr. Wickham as usual came immediately to Anne's side.

Anne had been sharing tales of her sheltered life at Rosings, the quiet monotony broken only by her mother's infrequent but imperious demands, when Kitty and Lydia came up to her, their cheeks flushed with merriment.

"Oh, Anne, you simply must take a turn about the room!" Lydia exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Mr. Wickham, you are being quite dreadful, monopolising Miss de Bourgh this way. The other officers are most eager to make her acquaintance."

Kitty giggled, nodding enthusiastically. "Indeed, they have been asking after you all afternoon. You have quite captured their attention, Anne."

Mr. Wickham leaned in conspiratorially, his voice low and intimate. "It seems you have admirers, Miss de Bourgh. Shall we indulge them with your charming presence?"

Anne hesitated, torn between the thrill of the attention and the nagging sense that she was straying into uncharted territory. But the allure of the moment, the heady rush of being sought after and desired, was too powerful to resist.

"I suppose a short turn about the room would be agreeable," she said, a slight tremor in her voice betraying her nerves.

As Mr. Wickham offered his arm, Anne caught the approving glances of Kitty and Lydia, their eyes alight with vicarious excitement. They seemed to revel in her newfound daring, eager to see their friend embrace the delights of society.

"Remember, Anne," Lydia whispered as they passed, "fortune favours the bold. Do not be afraid to seize the moment."

With those words ringing in her ears, Anne allowed Mr. Wickham to lead her into the throng of officers, their scarlet coats a dizzying blur of colour. She could feel the weight of their gazes upon her, the murmur of their voices as they speculated about the young heiress in their midst.

But it was Mr. Wickham who commanded her attention, his presence a steady anchor in the swirling sea of sensations. He guided her through the crowd with practiced ease, his hand at the small of her back a gentle but insistent pressure.

As they walked, Anne found herself confiding in him further, sharing her hopes and dreams, her fears and insecurities. The words tumbled from her lips, unbidden, as if his very presence had unlocked a floodgate within her.

"I have always longed for a life beyond Rosings," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "A life of my own choosing, where I might be free to follow my heart. But my duty is to my mother."

"Duty is a heavy burden to bear, Miss de Bourgh. One that can crush the very life from you, if you let it." His words sent a shiver down her spine, a thrill of both fear and excitement. The dance ended, and they stepped apart, but the intimacy of the moment lingered between them.

"Meet with me tomorrow," Mr. Wickham whispered, his eyes dark with promise. "And let us speak further of freedom and the pursuit of happiness."

Anne could only nod, her heart pounding in her chest. As Mr. Wickham bowed and took his leave, she felt a rush of exhilaration, tinged with the bittersweet knowledge that she was venturing into dangerous territory.

But for the first time in her life, Anne felt truly alive, truly awake to the possibilities that lay before her. And as she made her way back to Netherfield once more, she knew that she would risk everything for the chance to seize them.

The following evening, a small soirée was being held at Lucas Lodge. Lady Catherine was still too ill to rise from her bed, as was Miss Bingley, but upon eager pleas, Mrs. Bennet agreed that Anne might accompany her stepdaughters to the event, as well as Georgiana. Georgiana immediately declined, however, claiming she was not feeling well enough to leave Netherfield, and though Elizabeth looked at her with concern, nobody thought anything of the shy Miss Darcy not particularly wishing to be exposed to a crowd of strangers.

Anne had barely settled herself beside Mrs. Bennet in the front parlour at Lucas Lodge when Kitty and Lydia descended upon her, their cheeks flushed and eyes bright with mischief.

"Come, Anne!" Lydia whispered, tugging at her arm and giggling. "The officers have opened a bottle of port, and invited us to have a taste!"

"Port?" Anne repeated, her eyes widening. "But surely that is not proper..."

"Oh, hang propriety!" Lydia squealed. "We are among friends here, are we not?"

Anne hesitated, glancing nervously at Mrs. Bennet, who was deep in conversation with Lady Lucas. The temptation to join in the revelry, to shed the constraints of her sheltered life, was overwhelming.

"Very well," she said at last, rising to her feet. "But only a small taste."

Lydia clapped her hands in delight, and the three young ladies made their way to the corner where the officers had gathered. Mr. Wickham was there, his eyes lighting up as he saw Anne approach.

"Miss de Bourgh," he greeted her, his voice low and intimate. "I am honoured that you would join us."

He pressed a glass into her hand, his fingers brushing against hers in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Anne took a tentative sip, the rich, fruity flavour exploding on her tongue.

"It is delicious," she murmured, feeling a warm glow suffuse her cheeks.

Mr. Wickham smiled, his gaze never leaving her face. "A taste of freedom, is it not?"

Anne nodded, taking another sip of the fortified wine. She could feel her inhibitions melting away, her usual reserve giving way to a giddy sense of rebellion.

"Tell me, Miss de Bourgh," Mr. Wickham said, leaning in closer. "What would you do, if you could do anything in the world?"

Anne's mind raced with possibilities, with dreams she had never dared to voice aloud. "I would travel," she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. "I would see the world beyond Rosings, beyond Kent."

"And so you shall," Mr. Wickham promised, his eyes glinting with something that might have been triumph. "If you are brave enough to reach for it."

Anne's heart raced at his words, at the promise of adventure and excitement that lay ahead. She knew that she was playing with fire, that the path she was contemplating could lead to ruin and disgrace.

But in that moment, with the alcohol singing in her veins and Mr. Wickham's gaze holding her captive, Anne could not bring herself to care. For the first time in her life, she felt truly alive, truly free. She knew that her feelings for Mr. Wickham were deepening, transforming from a mere infatuation into something far more profound and consuming.

"Mr. Wickham," she said softly, her voice trembling with emotion, "there is something else I must tell you, something that weighs heavily on my heart."

He looked at her intently, his eyes filled with concern and tenderness. "You can tell me anything, Miss de Bourgh. I am here for you, always."

Anne took a deep breath, steeling herself for the revelation she was about to make. "My inheritance, Mr. Wickham. It is not entirely my own, even though my father left Rosings and everything else he owned to me. Until I marry, it is under the control of my cousins, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam."

She saw a flicker of surprise cross Mr. Wickham's face, quickly replaced by a look of understanding and sympathy. "I see," he said softly, taking her hand in his. "That must be a great burden for you, Miss de Bourgh, to feel that your future is not entirely your own."

Anne nodded, her eyes filling with tears. "It is, Mr. Wickham. I feel trapped, not only by my mother's expectations but by the very terms of my own inheritance. I long for freedom, for the ability to make my own choices and chart my own course in life."

"I understand, Miss de Bourgh. Truly, I do. But you must not lose hope. There is always a way to find happiness, to break free from the chains that bind us."

Anne looked up at him, her heart swelling with love and gratitude. In that moment, she knew that she would follow Mr. Wickham anywhere, that she would do anything to be with him.

Her mind raced with the possibilities of their future together, of a life free from the constraints of her inheritance and her mother's expectations. She imagined herself as Mrs. Wickham, mistress of her own home, able to make her own choices and live life on her own terms.

But even as she allowed herself to be swept away by the intoxicating promise of a different future, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered a warning. Was she truly ready to turn her back on everything she had ever known, to risk her reputation and her family's disapproval for the sake of love?

As Anne looked into Mr. Wickham's eyes, she saw the answer reflected back at her. Yes, she was ready. For him, she would risk everything.

"We must act quickly, my love," Mr. Wickham murmured, his breath warm against her ear. "Your mother will never approve of our union, and your cousin Mr. Darcy would surely try to stop us. We must elope, as soon as possible."

Anne's heart raced at the thought of such a daring plan. She had always been the dutiful daughter, the obedient ward, but now, with Mr. Wickham by her side, she felt a new sense of courage and determination.

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes shining with excitement. "Yes, let us elope. I cannot bear the thought of being parted from you, not even for a moment."

Mr. Wickham smiled, his hand tightening around hers. "Then it is settled. We shall leave at dawn, before anyone else is awake. I will arrange for a carriage and meet you at the edge of Netherfield's park."

Anne nodded, her mind already whirling with the practicalities of their escape. She would need to pack a small bag, to leave a note for her mother explaining her decision. But even as she planned, a flicker of doubt crossed her mind.

"But what of my inheritance?" she asked, her brow furrowing. "Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam have control over it until I marry. How will we live without it?"

Mr. Wickham's smile only widened, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Do not worry, my love. We shall head for Gretna Green and be married long before they know of our plans. Trust me, and all will be well."

Anne did trust him, with all her heart. She knew that Mr. Wickham would take care of her, that he would provide for her in ways that her family never could. And so, with a final squeeze of his hand, she sealed her fate.

"I will be ready at dawn," she promised, her voice steady with resolve. "And then, we shall begin our new life together, free from the constraints of our past."