Expectations: The Transformation of Miss Anne de Bourgh (Pride and Prejudice Continued), Volume 1 Page 20

Chapter Sixteen

  Lent dampened some of the social activities in town, although the English were not so inclined to renounce their worldly pleasures as were the Neapolitans. Anne spent her time practicing music and art, walking just a little more each day, and through Dr. Minton’s efforts she even found an English dancing master. He had little of Monsieur Saint-Vancomy’s cordiality, and Dr. Minton further dulled Anne’s enthusiasm by supervising her lessons and pressing her to keep her progress at a slow pace. “You do not want to let the candle flare too brightly and burn itself out,” he would say. Her frustration grew at a pace with her strength. Had he not encouraged her more when they were in England? Now that she could feel herself getting stronger, his discouragements seemed more pronounced. Why did he not want her to make even more progress while she could? When she would mention this to Harriet, her companion’s response was a knowing gaze and a reminder that he did have his mysteries. After the fourth mention of this, Anne stopped confiding in Harriet about the doctor.

  The one pastime where Anne saw progress was with learning Italian. Despite years of lessons, Anne had never felt proficient in French. Now, surrounded by the charismatic Italian language, Anne took daily lessons from Signora Abelli’s nephew, Tomaso. The charming lad had learned some English from a priest, and he expressed an eagerness to practice her language that rivaled her desire to learn his.

  Dr. Minton vexed Anne with his turnabout on this as well. At first he had been all for her interest in learning a new language, but after encountering her discussing—or, more accurately, trying to discuss—a housekeeping matter with Signora Abelli, Dr. Minton asked Anne not to tax herself with too many studies. He stated that he wanted her to pick one lesson and dispense with the others lest she overburden herself. He said he would never forgive himself if she lost some of the good progress she had made. He recommended her pianoforte lessons, as they were where she had showed the most promise and they would be the most useful when she returned home.

  She wondered if his worries might be accurate after a supper menu she had chosen with Signora Abelli went horribly wrong. The spicy tomato sauce in the entrée, which had sounded so delicious when Signora Abelli described it to her, left Anne with such a fire in her stomach that she felt she might die. Dr. Minton and Mrs. Jenkinson were up with her most of the night, the doctor administering physic after physic until at last her suffering abated. He soothed her worry with the promise that he would oversee the menus from then on to prevent further discomfort.

  Still, she rankled at the doctor’s excessive worries and his inconsistencies. He encouraged her to do more, but when she did, he discouraged her. Yes, it might be true that sometimes she did more than she ought and spent the next day resting and regretting. But when she first arrived in Naples, she could barely walk to the edge of the property. Now she could travel to the bend in the road, which was a round trip of nearly a mile. Mrs. Jenkinson had nothing but praise for what Anne had accomplished so far. However, her companion was not a doctor, so perhaps she did not understand the implications. However, Anne did defy his wishes and continued all of her lessons, only making the change of scheduling her language lessons during the afternoons when Dr. Minton traveled down to the city to consult with the ambassador’s staff on the latest news.

  At last the doctor compromised with his restless patient and hired a carriage for outings under his supervision. On clear days, he took Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson out into the hills above Naples, traveling through charming vistas and fertile farm land. On cloudy or rainy afternoons, he arranged excursions down into the city or established Anne’s headquarters in the villa’s library, bringing her whatever he thought she needed and keeping her company.

  Perplexed by his inconsistencies, on a rare afternoon when she and Mrs. Jenkinson were alone, Anne asked her companion her opinion of the doctor’s ministrations. After some thought, Mrs. Jenkinson answered, “Well, he is attentive. Perhaps that is what women of society expect from a physician. Otherwise, I would say he shows signs of caring for you a great deal.”

  This was so different from Harriet’s harsh opinion of Dr. Minton that Anne hardly knew what to think. If only she could consult with her mother on the matter. In her letters she had mentioned, in vague terms so as not to worry her mother, the man’s conflicting actions. But Lady Catherine had never taken the hint and addressed the subject in her few replies, to Anne’s disappointment. She knew no better judge of character.

  Then again, perhaps that might not always the case. Anne liked Harriet very much, but the more she got to know the free-spirited girl, the more she knew that her mother would not approve of her. In spite of her many excellent qualities, Harriet had the type of independent spirit that irked her mother. She spoke up in front of her betters, and she told the truth, even if it ruffled the listener. How could her mother not have noticed? If she had misjudged Harriet, Anne thought, perhaps her mother had also not recognized Dr. Minton’s contradictions. And yet Lady Catherine had known Dr. Minton for weeks before the company left for Italy, giving her ample time to assess him. No, her mother was an excellent judge of character. Everyone said so. It was all very confusing.

  She shared all her thoughts in her letters to Elizabeth Darcy, who was a much better correspondent than Lady Catherine. Anne and Elizabeth wrote to each other at least twice a week, even with less to write about during the slower pace of Lent. Between anecdotes about life in London and Derbyshire, which she made interesting in their own right since Anne knew none of the people involved, Elizabeth responded to Anne’s tales about her household. Regarding her confusion over Harriet’s opinion of Dr. Minton, Elizabeth suggested that Anne quiz her maid Dolly about the doctor. Since Harriet had specifically mentioned Dolly’s apparent infatuation with him, Elizabeth thought Anne would do well to ask her, both for the purpose of finding out more about the doctor and in knowing what was going on with her servants.

  With trepidation Anne pondered how to engage in that conversation. She had none of her mother’s experience with servants, and she also lacked Lady Catherine’s innate skills with people. Anne could foresee mentioning Dr. Minton to the softhearted Dolly, and the maid blushing with a kind smile and saying something vague about him, and then Anne would have no idea how to pursue the topic. If only she had a true steward in her group who supervised the servants. But Dr. Minton had taken up that role and supplanted Holcombe, her designated steward for the expedition. The physician could hardly be expected to conduct the interview on the topic of himself.

  Anne realized that once again she had fallen into the role of passive observer of her own life. Rather than accepting the challenge of becoming the mistress of her household, she had allowed someone else to take the initiative and fulfill that role. Most of the time that made her life easier, but now it confounded the situation. Back home, she had said that she was old enough to make decisions on her own, and yet now she had done what she always did and stepped away from her duty. Anne knew she needed to do more, as her mother would not live forever. But how ill-prepared she was for such responsibility! Improving her physical strength would be nothing compared with improving her mental and emotional strength. Perhaps that is what she should have been concentrating on during this time away from home. But with her stay half done, she knew once she arrived back at Rosings, things would return to how they had always been, and she would have accomplished very little.

  How much time she had wasted, not just here, but also in the rest of her thirty years. Looking back, she began to understand Darcy’s reluctance to marry her. She had few skills, indifferent health, no wit, no intelligence, no beauty. Why would anyone want to marry her? All she had was the promise of money and Rosings. Even that had not been enough to tempt the suitors her mother had brought home. A sad prospect awaited her when she returned to England. She would live the rest of her life in her mother’s shadow, alone and useless. How odd that so far from home she could acquire a clear view of her life. She would have to fight to keep this vision from com
ing true, but how she would fight it…she knew not.

  The weather showed its respect for the Lenten season and her dark frame of mind as the sun gave way to gray and damp. The villa’s staff complained, but the English company had few unkind words. Winter in Naples had none of the sting they knew from back home. Even the crusty assistant cook from Rosings, Mrs. Ross, had fallen under the spell of the countryside and decided to study some of the local delicacies. While Anne had learned her lesson about adventurous dining choices, she felt no small anticipation at the prospect of her cook bringing home some of the flavors of Naples. As expected, Dr. Minton insisted on approving Mrs. Ross’s gathered recipes to make sure they were suitable for Anne’s health needs.

  With the local social life reduced, Harriet spent more time in the villa. Despite knowing her mother would not approve of the girl, Anne found cheer and consolation in Harriet’s company. Quick, lively, and always in good humor, Harriet proved a good antidote to her own frequent glooms. Harriet told bad jokes she had learned from the soldiers at the embassy, she shared silly, but not malicious, gossip about others in the English expatriate community, and she thought Anne was perhaps the best artist ever in the history of the world. Anne tried her hand at painting a formal portrait of Harriet, but to Anne’s eyes the finished piece looked more like a portrait of the villa’s elderly senior gardener than the fresh-faced girl from Cheshire. Harriet laughed over the image and vowed to treasure it always. “After all,” she said, “the gardener is a handsome old fellow, for his age, and if I can look like him when I’m a hundred, too, I’ll be the prettiest old thing in England!”

  As the season progressed, Dr. Minton’s prominent role in Anne’s daily life began to take on a more intimate tenor. When the others were distant, he acted more like a suitor than a servant. Harriet tried to intervene and stay close to Anne when he was in his “courting moods,” as she called them, but Anne did not always appreciate her friend’s efforts to keep the doctor away. His hovering as a physician irked Anne, but sometimes his interest as a man pleased and flattered her. While she did nothing to encourage him, neither did she discourage him. If he turned out to be the only man willing to court her, at least someday she would be able to look back on pleasant memories of having once been the object of a man’s attentions. As her mother’s disapprobation would put an end to this when they returned home, Anne felt safe in enjoying Dr. Minton’s gallantries without fear of being held accountable for her actions later.