Page 45 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

I waited for Richard to say something more. I do not know what I hoped for, only that I wanted very much to hear his answer.

But Darcy asked whether he had decided how long he could remain at Pemberley, and the conversation turned to my uncle.

I went back upstairs with the book still in my hands.

Darcy’s opinion ought not to surprise me. He has made Mr Byerly welcome from the beginning, and there is a great deal to be said in his favour. I have said much of it myself in these pages.

But why did Richard ask?

Was he merely concerned for me, as he has always been? Or did he wish Darcy to find some objection which he had not discovered for himself?

I wish I knew.

23 July

I wanted to discover what Richard thinks of Mr Byerly.

I did not intend to tell him that I had been listening outside the library, of course. There are limits to the confessions one ought to make, even in the pursuit of useful information. But I thought I might introduce the subject naturally, if an opportunity offered.

It took me some time to find one.

Christopher departed on Thursday, leaving Mary rather quiet. She has kept herself occupied, but I have noticed how often she looks towards the door when somebody comes into the room. I understand the habit very well.

This morning I found Richard alone, looking through a book he had taken from the library. He put it aside at once when I approached, and asked whether I would sit with him.

I did so, wondering why a question which seemed perfectly simple when I considered it upstairs should become so difficult to ask in his presence.

At last I mentioned our visitors of Wednesday.

“You had not met Mr Byerly before, had you?”

“No, I had not had the pleasure.”

“And did you find him agreeable?” I watched Richard for some sign of his opinion.

“Certainly. He appears to have made himself very welcome here.”

“He has been kind.”

Richard looked at me rather attentively.

“Yes?”

I wished I had chosen some other way to begin.

“He brought me the little rose upon the terrace.”

“Did he? I wondered where it had come from.”

I waited, but he did not say anything more.

“I thought perhaps you might…”

A discreet throat-clearing made us both look up. A footman was standing nearby, with a letter upon a salver.

“For you, Colonel.”

Richard took it, thanked him and glanced at the direction.