Chapter Fifteen
Life in Naples continued at its relaxed pace through February. Social visits and Anne’s dreamed-of music and art lessons occupied most of her time. She tried the romantic instrument of the guitar, but she gave up after several sessions. Not only did Dr. Minton think the instrument too undignified for her, but she also found herself baffled by playing the notes on the arbitrary layout of the strings. The pianoforte proved more of a success, with the linear arrangement of the keys offering no confusing choices. Despite the praise of her teacher, a musician of local renown, she doubted very much that she had a great aptitude for playing music. However, practicing gave her a feeling of accomplishment, in addition to reviving pleasant memories of her father. Mrs. Jenkinson always enjoyed listening to her lessons and even offered modest suggestions when she practiced in the evening.
The same held true for the art lessons. While Anne felt she had no great skill with her landscapes, she found pleasure in both the art and the application. She drew diligently every afternoon, concentrating on line drawings and watercolors of flowers, trees, and the ever-present beauty of the city and bay. She included small pieces in many of her daily letters to her mother. Her mother’s replies rarely mentioned them, except to say that she was sure Anne would become proficient someday with enough practice and good instruction.
Anne also included drawings in her frequent correspondence with Elizabeth Darcy. In her replies, Elizabeth expressed great satisfaction and a little envy over her excursion. Despite their increased distance from one another, Anne felt closer than ever to this person who no one thought she should like at all, given that Elizabeth had “stolen” her betrothed. Anne understood now the truth of the matter. Here, with the peace, quiet, distance, and time to think, Anne realized that Darcy had never belonged to her. Their engagement had been a business transaction between their mothers. There had been no emotion on his part, only duty. When he fell in love with Elizabeth, he had no choice but to follow his heart.
Anne wondered about following her heart, and she wondered about Dr. Minton. She respected him, and she appreciated his efforts, but she also found herself frustrated by him. His humors changed so, sometimes three or four times a day. He would encourage her, then try to draw her back from her efforts, then hover with the zeal of a lover. She had no idea what to make of him. Perhaps he too was trying to sort through the confusing social strata between them. If only her mother had talked with her about Dr. Minton’s status as a gentleman before they left England! Anne had worked casual reminders of his class into several letters to her mother, but perhaps she had been too casual, as her mother never responded on the topic. If only Anne could extract from her mother her thoughts about the man. She needed Lady Catherine’s blessing to consider Dr. Minton as more than just her doctor. Yet, how unlikely that seemed. Even though he was of an acceptable class, how could her mother condone a marriage to a servant? No, she would never allow it.
Anne also pondered what her father would think of such a match, or of her as an adult. She had thought about him a great deal in this enchanted place that seemed to be one step away from Heaven. She had passed the sad milestone of being older than Sir Lewis when he died, and she continued to get stronger, little by little. Anne felt he would be proud of her for all the work she had done to improve her health. Oh, how he would have loved Italy! One of the villa’s gardeners sang when he worked in the orchard, and his fine voice reminded Anne of her father’s. Sir Lewis was not so fastidious as her mother when it came to relations with members of other classes. She knew that if he had come to this place he would have been down in the orchard with the gardener, asking him to teach him every song of the countryside. Were it her parents staying in the villa and not her, she fancied her father would learn every song, her mother would object, and he would apologize…and then sing them when she was not around. How would her father have felt about Dr. Minton? She decided that he would like him as a person, but he would prefer that she marry someone better. But what if her choice was to marry beneath her station…or not marry at all?
Anne wished she could discuss the matter with Mrs. Jenkinson. Other than her mother, no one had a better understanding of her than the widow who had watched over her since she turned five years old. But whenever Anne tried to bring up the topic of love and marriage, the former governess felt all the awkwardness of it, assured her that their difference in rank made a common understanding impossible, and insisted that Anne consult with her mother on the matter.
As for how she felt about their winter away from home, Mrs. Jenkinson enjoyed Naples as much as Anne did, and she enjoyed the food a great deal more. Fresh fish, exotic cheeses, rich sauces, and a seemingly infinite variety of pasta enchanted her and led to her dresses needing some alterations. Her favorite dish, which she bought at an open-air stand on every day trip down into the city, was baked flatbread with cheese, garlic, basil, and a red sauce. Anne was overwhelmed by the large dish and refused to try it, but Mrs. Jenkinson insisted on bringing Mrs. Ross down to town on several occasions to study the local specialty so she could recreate it when they returned home. Not one to turn down a challenge, Mrs. Ross promised to try. But when she saw a baker tossing the bread dough into the air to stretch it out, she envisioned dough on the floor or stuck to the kitchen ceiling, and she despaired of making a satisfactory reproduction.
Anne would have liked to spend more time with Harriet, but the girl was too enraptured by the lure of the city, as well as the soldiers assigned to the ambassador, to spend much time in the villa. The free-spirited Harriet was so different from her lively but sensible cousins. Even as her good sense kept her out of real mischief, she did not seem to give two figs about society and what others thought of her.
However, Harriet did have firm opinions about some of their own company. Most notably, she did not care for Dr. Minton. “He is too smooth, Anne. I know why you cannot see that. He’s all attention and kindness to you. One would think he was in love with you. But a man in love thinks only of his beloved, even when she is out of sight, and I know he thinks of other things when he is away. I know for certain that your maid Dolly, who is quite the dear and I cannot thank you enough for sharing her with me, is absolutely smitten with him. And I think he has given her reasons to feel that way. If he was a gentleman, he wouldn’t be flirting with no maid, I can tell you that. Your mother seems to think herself the perfect judge of character, but I say he has fooled her, and she may not be the only one. Come down to town with me, Anne, and you will see how real gentlemen disport themselves. La, some of those officers are just the ripest plums, Anne! So sweet and firm!” Her observations would then become litanies about this or that officer, and her raptures would go on for some time.
Anne knew Harriet had misjudged Dr. Minton. Even though Anne had explained to her friend his family’s honorable but luckless history, Harriet still trusted her instincts that the doctor hid as much as he shared.
Anne did go into the city when she felt strong enough, which now happened more often than not. Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson attended concerts and operas, and Anne heard a dizzying variety of new music. There were so many composers she had never heard of back home. Boccherini, Salieri, van Beethoven, and a great many others whose music was so very different from the music her mother favored by Haydn and Arne. Opera in particular fascinated Anne. She could imagine her father’s pleasure in attending such events. She wondered if he went to performances before he married. The opera seemed so contrary to her mother’s tastes that Anne knew she would never be able to attend a performance when she returned home. Not only had her mother never mentioned going to the opera during her stays in London, but also many times she had stated her particular distaste for the theatre and public performances as “low and vulgar displays suitable only for the unrefined masses.” Anne felt no such revulsion. She envied the singers their fine voices and ability to sing for hours on end. She hoped that by the time she returned to England she would be strong enough for voice lessons.
She became acquainted with several prominent English families in town, and she found pleasure in visiting, even if she never had much to contribute to the conversation. Evenings spent with games, tea, and light suppers of English food were all welcome reminders of home. The company rarely played high, so she even attempted card games beyond her usual cassino and loo. In particular, she became fond of vignt-et-un, the favorite of perennial hostess Mrs. Babcock, even though it involved more guessing and luck than skill. Anne lost almost as much as she won, but she concluded that the point of such an evening in good company was not to win but to enjoy oneself and the company of friends. How her mother hated to lose! Anne decided it must be easier for her to face defeat than it was for her mother because of the few successes she had experienced in her life. Mrs. Jenkinson called those realizations her “silver linings.” With the distance of time and place, Anne had learned to view her past from a new perspective, and she began to agree with her companion that her life held many unexpected silver linings.