Page 35 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

“And what of the gentleman who brought it?”

I glanced up at him. He was smiling, and I could not tell whether he was merely teasing me.

“I should be sorry to disappoint him too, of course,” I said politely.

“Then I am satisfied.”

His sister was asking Elizabeth something about the terrace, and I was glad of the opportunity to turn towards them. I could feel myself blushing, which was absurd. There had been nothing in the conversation to embarrass anybody.

We walked for some time, stopping whenever Mrs Matthew Thurston saw a flower she particularly admired, which was often. She has a very cheerful manner and seems quite content to confess when she does not know something. I found this reassuring, since I was obliged to make several such confessions myself.

Mr Byerly asked whether I had decided where I should eventually plant my rose.

“Not yet. I should like to keep it in the pot until it is a little larger.”

“And after that?”

“I do not know. Perhaps I shall have a garden of my own by then.”

I had spoken without thinking, and wished immediately that I had not. Fortunately he appeared to take it as a perfectly ordinary answer.

“What sort of garden would you choose?”

“A small one, I think. With roses, certainly, and somewhere pleasant to sit. I should like to be able to do some of the work myself.”

“You must have a gardener, though. There is a good deal of work which would be quite beyond a lady’s strength.” Mr Byerly stopped to inspect a rosebush as he said it.

“Oh, yes. But I should not like to be forbidden to touch anything.”

“Then you must engage somebody who understands that his mistress is to be consulted.”

That seemed such a simple arrangement when he said it. I began to tell him about Mrs Bingley’s garden at Netherfield, and how much I had enjoyed being there. He listened, asking whether I preferred a sheltered situation and what else I might wish to grow, until I found myself describing a place which exists nowhere but in my own imagination.

I stopped rather abruptly when I realised how long I had been talking. “I am afraid I have been giving you a great many particulars about nothing at all,” I said sheepishly.

“Not at all. How else am I to discover what you like?”

I had no answer ready for that, and looked away, covered in confusion.

When we returned to the house, there was refreshment waiting in the morning-room. I was quite hungry after our walk, and accepted a slice of cake with pleasure. Mr Byerly declined it.

“I must be firm with myself,” he said, when Elizabeth offered it again. “My sister has already accused me of returning to London with an entirely new figure if I remain at Thurston Hall all summer.”

“I said that our cook would take it as a personal affront if you continued to refuse her puddings,” his sister corrected. “You are determined to make me sound very unkind.”

He laughed and assured her that nobody could possibly think her unkind.

I had been about to take another mouthful, but found myself considering the size of the slice upon my plate. It did seem rather generous. Then I was annoyed with myself, because I was hungry and the cake was very good, and Mr Byerly had said nothing whatever about what anybody else ought to eat.

I finished it, though I did not take any more.

Our visitors stayed until nearly luncheon. Before they left, Mrs Matthew Thurston asked whether we might all come to dine one evening the following week, and Elizabeth promised to consult Darcy.

Mr Byerly looked towards me as his sister spoke.

“I hope you will come, Miss de Bourgh. I should like to show you the rose from which yours was taken.”

I said that I should like that very much.