Page 37 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

I watched her for a while, quite fascinated by how quickly a few marks became the outline of a gown. It had none of the elaborate trimming of the earlier drawing, but there was something very pleasing about the shape of it.

“I should like to wear that,” I said.

“Would you?” She looked up, suddenly eager. “Truly?”

“Certainly. Provided you have arranged matters so that I may attend to my rose without my sleeves pulling.”

She laughed and promised that I should have complete freedom of movement.

We are to dine at Thurston Hall on Tuesday, which is the day after tomorrow. Elizabeth told us when we came indoors, and Kitty immediately began to discuss what we should wear. She has offered to alter the arrangement of the ribbons upon my pink gown, having decided that she did not quite like them when I wore it last.

I thought they had looked very well, but she assured me that the alteration would take only a few minutes and make a considerable improvement. She was already gathering up her drawings to put them aside when I protested.

“I should not wish to take you away from your work, Kitty. You have only just decided how you wish the sleeves to look on this design.”

“Oh, I shall remember that. Come upstairs, and let me show you what I mean.”

Kitty was as good as her word, and the ribbons were soon arranged to her satisfaction. She then went to find Georgiana, who was to be consulted about whether the proposed sleeves could actually be made to behave as Kitty intended.

I am pleased that she has something to occupy her so happily. She has been very generous with her time and her cleverness on behalf of all of us, and I should like somebody beyond our own family to recognise how much she can do.

She has asked whether I will sit for her again tomorrow. Apparently I am to bring a book, so that she may consider how my skirt drapes as I sit and how my sleeves move as I hold the book in my hands.

I have agreed, on the understanding that I shall be permitted to turn the pages.

5 July

We dined at Thurston Hall this evening, and I have seen the rose from which my little plant was taken. It is a much larger bush than I had expected, with branches bending under the weight of flowers. If mine should ever grow to such a size, I shall certainly have to find somewhere to plant it.

Mr Byerly came out to meet our carriage. He greeted Darcy and Elizabeth very properly, then offered me his hand to assist me down. Once I was standing beside him, he inquired after the rose, apparently forgetting that Georgiana, Kitty and Mary were still waiting to alight.

“It has flowered,” I told him. “A very pretty pink.”

“I thought the colour would please you.”

His eyes moved briefly to my gown, and I was glad Kitty had insisted upon altering the ribbons, though I could not suppose he would have noticed the difference.

We had arrived early enough to walk in the gardens before dinner. Mrs Thurston wished to speak to Mary, and Elizabeth and Kitty remained with them, but Mrs Matthew Thurston offered to accompany Georgiana and myself while her brother showed us the roses.

“Our gardener has asked after your rose,” Mr Byerly said as we walked. “I promised him I would inquire whether it was thriving.”

“Oh! Then you must tell him it is doing very well. At least, I believe it is. Pemberley’s gardener has been very patient with my questions.”

“I shall tell him it is receiving excellent care.”

“I hope you will not raise his expectations too greatly. I have only had it a week.”

His sister called to him just then, asking about a flower Georgiana had wanted to identify, and I was left to wonder whether I had made myself sound rather foolish. I do seem to require an extraordinary amount of instruction in matters which other people understand perfectly well.

The roses were worth the walk. I could smell them before we reached the border, and when Mr Byerly showed me the parent plant, I recognised at once the crowded petals and soft colour. There were so many flowers that I could scarcely imagine anybody missing a few.

“Let us cut a few,” Mrs Matthew Thurston said gaily. “We shall arrange some in a vase, and you must have some to take to Pemberley, Anne, since it will be far too long until your rose bush will produce a profusion such as this! Hugh, do you have a pen-knife? We shall have enough for everybody.”

He did not, but he went to fetch one and a basket, and we returned to the house with a little collection which Mrs Thurston admired before ordering it put in water to await our departure. Mary looked particularly happy. She had been hearing stories of Christopher as a boy, and was quite pink with pleasure when we rejoined her.

Matthew Thurston was at home, and I was interested to see him with his wife. He is very attentive to her, though in a quieter manner than Bingley is to Jane. When she could not remember the name of a family they had visited, he supplied it without interrupting her story, and when she dropped her fan he had retrieved it almost before she noticed it was gone.

I liked watching them together. They seemed very comfortable with one another, rather as Darcy and Elizabeth are. Perhaps all newlyweds behave so; I have no other examples to compare them to.