Anne Gibson

Anne Gibson is the eldest daughter of Thomas Gibson and Maud Gibson. She is played by Emily.

Anne Gibson

Portrayed by Anna Popplewell
Full Name	Anne Lettice Gibson
Associated Noble House(s)	none
Date of Birth	10 February, 1794
Father	Thomas Gibson
Father's Rank	MP
Mother	Maud Gibson
Mother's Rank	none
Town Residence	{{{residence}}}
Year of Debut	1811
Dowry	£5000

Family

Parents:

Thomas Gibson, b. 1768

Maud Gibson, b. 1776, d. 1810

Siblings:

Frank Gibson, b. 1798

Edgar Gibson, b. 1800

Ruth Gibson, b. 1803

Hetty Gibson, b. 1806

Gilbert Gibson, b. 1809

Lucy Gibson, b. 1810

Aunt & Uncle:

Lydia Armstrong, b. 1782

Martin Armstrong, b. 1778

Cousins:

Theresa "Tessie" Armstong, b. 1804

Timothy Armstrong, b. 1808

Friends

Georgiana Haworth, met Lady Louth with Lydia in a shop. Admires her a great deal.

Susannah Hutchinson, met via Benjamin Hutchinson, Sukey's brother and the Gibson's neighbour. Anne likes her very well, and hopes to become better friends.

Eleanor Clare, met via Lady Louth's acquaintance with the Marquess of Avening. Though Miss Clare is not yet out, they seem to enjoy one another's company.

Aquaintances

Benjamin Hutchinson, a neighbour of the Gibsons. Anne thinks he seems a nice fellow.

Frederick Lazenby met under rather embarassing circumstances in Covent Garden while buying rhubarb. They seem to have laughed the incident off, however.

Sophia Lazenby met via her brother Frederick Lazenby. The girls are equally impressed with one another--that is to say, not at all.

Love Interests

Wait, what?

Enemies

Let's not be hasty.

History

Childhood & Family Life in London

Anne was the first child born to Thomas Gibson and his young bride Maud, and named for each of her grandmothers. Though the fine, healthy baby was, of course, happily welcomed and loved by her parents, she was followed in due course by six brothers and sisters--all of them fine, healthy babies. The youngest of these resulted in poor Maud's death.

Growing up in a busy London home, with her father's political career gaining success upon success, Anne was her mother's right-hand from the very first, assisting her mother when it came to making the household run smoothly, and helping to bring up her little siblings. By nature or the course of nurturing in such an environment, Anne has grown to be a practical, sensible girl in all things (save the odd bursts of temperament which seem to besiege all but the sternest of pubescent minds.) Though Anne has grieved deeply the loss of her mother, she adapted quickly and comported herself admirably in the aftermath, doing her utmost to ease the transitions the family underwent as her aunt was installed as matriarch (Anne, herself, not quite being prepared to take the burdens of the entire household upon her young shoulders, and her father being determined that her girlhood has been blighted enough, without the addition of the worries and cares belonging to a woman of greater experience and knowledge.)

With relatively few alterations, Anne has continued in her role as deputy-housekeeper, though now under the tutelage and guidance of her aunt. Anne's view of her situation is rather pragmatic, though not without emotion in moments of private reflection. Many mothers die before their time--and fathers, too. Anne knows she was (morbidly) fortunate in having lost her mother, and not her father, as her cousins have. A bittersweet signifier of the comparative importance of men, in the workings of the world. [N.B. Anne has been told that her uncle died, and is buried, in the north. Her father and Lydia have believed maintaining the fiction will be simpler if as few people as possible are in on the secret.]

With her aunt to chaperone her, Anne has quietly been brought "out," though with little fuss or fanfare, given that they have only recently set aside the last of their mourning for Maud, and Anne's unspectacular position as the daughter of an MP (however respected and comparatively well-off he may be,) has not merited such trumpet-blasts as herald the advent of the daughters of titles or families of great connection or vast wealth. Anne's father has settled a respectable five thousand pounds upon her for her dowry.

Personality

Generally, Anne gets on very well with her siblings--though she has her irritations with them from time to time, as anyone might, particularly now that she is tasting something of the world beyond the nursery and schoolroom, where she has found most of her occupation for the last several years. The Gibsons are a close, warm-hearted family, and rub on happily enough, together.

They live in a large, comfortable (if unfashionably located) house in Gracechurch Street. Anne has only recently been given a room of her own, and revels in the simple luxury of girlish solitude.

Anne is 5'1", on the slender side, and wears wire-rimmed glasses for reading and close work like sewing. Her gowns are pretty and well-made, but tend towards plainness rather than fuss and frills, though the effect is overall more elegant than dowdy, thanks to her aunt's good taste. She is rather pale (though she freckles in the sun,) and has an overall calm manner, not without warmth or easy humour. She can be shy and uncertain in unfamiliar surroundings and strange or exalted company.

Anne can be quite animated at home, where she feels safe and comfortable with her family. She is a quick learner, and takes her aunt's hints and lectures very seriously--though sometimes she cannot resist some affectionate teasing. Anne knows she still has a great deal to learn from her aunt, in place of what she might have learnt from her mother, during her first Season.

Anne is no particular beauty, nor has she cultivated much by way of artistic skills--she cannot draw, and her playing is elementary. Made maternal by necessity, but generally not begrudging her duty and never rebelling against it, she is calm and rational. If she ever despairs (teen angst hardly being a modern invention,) she tends to keep it to herself. Anne observes a great deal, particularly in company--where she tends to say very little, until prompted by her aunt, or others. Anne has no talent for the brilliant witticisms of fine ladies--she mostly speaks honestly, and to the point...though she is not without a dry sense of humour much like her aunt's (though less jaded.)

Her talent, it seems, is numerical. She knew her numbers before she knew her letters, and was doing simple sums before she could spell cat, rat, or mat. The first element of housekeeping Maud taught her daughter was the accounts; and, indeed, for several years, Anne has been trusted to take the ledger into her care during her mother's confinements; and has retained it since Maud's death (though Lydia will periodically re-check the odd column, merely as a matter of form, as Anne's neat rows of numbers are totted up faster and with fewer errors than Lydia's own ever were.) Anne takes great pride and pleasure in doing up the household accounts, and feels a sense of accomplishment in knowing that everything is accounted for and in its proper place. Perhaps her handling of money matters would be seen as vulgar in some circles, for a girl of her age; but as it makes Anne happy to do it, and is a burden removed from Lydia's mind, the Gibsons are content to let her do it.

As her father's business concerns have doubled in the wake of Martin's "death," Anne has made herself useful to her father, as well, in a similar capacity. Though Thomas takes a sterner interest in business accounts than Lydia shows towards provisioning bills, he has found Anne to be quite capable. Anne cherishes this time spent with her father, who has become more closed-off and distant to his family since his wife's death. Though much of her time in her father's study is spent working in silence, it is a companionable atmosphere, and Anne believes that her father enjoys her quiet company when he is working at home.

Despite her affinity for sums, Anne is not particularly what one might call bookish. She dutifully reads all novels and essays recommended to her by her aunt, and enjoys them, such as they are; but she sees nothing in novels but amusement--certainly nothing of real life; and finds the essays informative, instructive, and sometimes entertaining, but little else. She can converse relatively knowledgably upon some political matters--she would have to fervently devote herself to maintaining any kind of ignorance on the subject, in such a household--but feels she might simply be repeating sentiments expressed by her aunt and father, and not her own opinions. It would help, of course, if she had some notion of what her own opinions were; but the days are full, and time for reflection short--besides which she is not at all certain that she cares to bother with attempting to form many, in the first place. She knows she is young, and, God-willing, Anne hopes her life will be a long one, and believes there will be time enough for taking a hard line and making definitive statements in later years.

Sometimes, Anne feels a strange, baseless sense of frustration--but as it is fruitless to dwell on it, she very sensibly packs it away soon enough, along with all other pesky, impulsive goads. [N.B. She has an intensely mathematical mind, and no outlet aside from keeping accounts. She's not gone all Beautiful Mind or anything, but her limited, feminine education has not provided her with enough structure or material to support all she is mentally capable of in that quarter. Hence ephemeral frustration from time to time, with no apparent motive and certainly no applicable release; but it passes.]