Page 27 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

“Save your support for yourself, Richard, I am quite comfortable walking alone.”

“I have no doubt of it. Your new independence is a delight to witness, Annie.”

“Lady Catherine would suffer a conniption if she could witness it, no doubt.” I smiled to think on it. “Do you have any news of her, by the way? Has my uncle mentioned how she does?”

“Do you wish to hear how she does, or to know she cannot hurt you again? On that last point I can reassure you. Father has put safeguards in place at the house in Scotland, and I shall make certain they continue for her lifetime.”

“Truly, that is all I wanted to know,” I admitted, and he nodded.

“Father receives a monthly report from the couple who supervise the house. If you wish, I can send you a copy. Or you may leave it to me and think of her as little as you please.”

“Let me think on it?” I requested. “I trust you, of course, and my uncle too, but there may be times when I begin to worry and perhaps reading the report would help.”

“You may tell me whenever you want to see one, and I’ll see the latest delivered to you directly,” he promised.

We walked for a few moments in silence before Richard glanced down at me again.

“Do you still have those bad dreams, Annie?”

I had told Richard something of my dreams, but little of the fear that stayed with me after waking. Georgiana knew more: on our journey from Pemberley to Netherfield, I had once woken her with my screams.

“Sometimes,” I admitted finally.

“Me, too.”

I looked up at him. He was gazing into the distance, brow furrowed.

“About Toulouse?” I asked tentatively.

“Yes, most often. I fought in a great many battles, but until Toulouse I had come through them without much injury. I had begun to trust my luck.”

“Really? I think it held.”

He looked down at me. “My horse was blown out from beneath me, Annie. For days after the battle, I did not know whether I should see England again.”

“Yet you did come home.” I looked at his hand and then at the scars beneath my own sleeves. “We both did.”

“You never did complain, Annie, which was precisely the problem,” Richard pointed out rather dryly.

“And now I have nothing to complain about,” I said, ignoring the remark.

“Do you not?”

His tone made me look up. “I have only to mention a wish and someone tries to grant it. What more could I ask?”

“And yet,” he said quietly, “you are still not in control of your own future entirely, are you?”

I had said nothing to him about my uncle’s plan for a London season. Had he seen how unwillingly I listened at dinner?

“You do not want to go to London for the season, do you?” Richard asked.

“I would rather not,” I admitted, “but I do not mean to protest.”

“Why not? Darcy and Elizabeth may spend the winter in London, but that need not determine your winter. You would be welcome at Matlock.”

A winter near Richard sounded lovely, and for a moment I nearly said so. Then I remembered that Cousin Grace could not be expected to act as my uncle’s hostess forever, and I have no companion of my own. Besides, if I hope one day to marry, London will give me more chance of meeting someone with whom I might rub along tolerably.

I said this last to Richard, who raised his brows at me.