Chapter 27

E lizabeth adjusted the folds of her gown as she stood by the window of the parlor, sunlight casting a soft glow on her features. Across from her, Jane sat near the hearth, her delicate embroidery hoop balanced on her lap, while Georgiana, seated on the chaise, gently plucked at a few notes on her lap harp. The younger girl was content in their company, though her reserved nature kept her quiet as she listened. The atmosphere was tranquil, a rare moment of quiet amid the flurry of Christmas guests and preparations.

The newly-minted Mrs. Darcy’s thoughts were miles away, rehearsing what she would say to Darcy that evening. had spent the past few days wavering between determination and trepidation. The realization that she loved Darcy had taken root in her heart, and she resolved to share her feelings with him, no matter the risk.

Once having finally resolved to speak her heart, to confess her love and face whatever might follow, she knew she needed to do it quickly or become too afraid to do so. She had already decided to wear her wedding dress for the occasion, a symbolic gesture that made her heart race with both nerves and hope. The mere thought sent a thrill of fear and excitement coursing through her.

She turned toward Jane, drawing a steadying breath. “Jane, would you mind terribly if Fitzwilliam and I dined in our rooms tonight?” Elizabeth asked, trying to sound casual. “The guests have been wonderful, of course, but I find myself quite exhausted.”

Jane’s cheeks flushed, her shy smile brightening the room. “Not at all, Lizzy. I think it’s a splendid idea. You ought to have some time alone. I’ll have Mrs. Nicholls send up some trays.”

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door creaked open. The butler entered, his expression unusually tight. He cleared his throat, drawing the attention of all three women.

“Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Mr. Collins have arrived,” he announced.

The air in the room shifted instantly. Georgiana’s face turned ghostly pale, her hands clutching the harp with white-knuckled intensity. “I… I cannot stay,” she stammered, rising abruptly.

Elizabeth reached out, alarmed by the young woman’s reaction. “Georgiana, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“My aunt is… terrifying,” Georgiana whispered. “I cannot face her.” Without another word, she slipped out a side door, her retreat swift and silent.

Elizabeth exchanged a concerned glance with Jane but had no time to pursue the girl as the parlor doors swung open again, this time with dramatic force. An older woman— Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Elizabeth presumed— swept into the room, her imposing figure radiating fury. Mr. Collins trailed behind her, his expression equal parts obsequious and bewildered.

“You!” Lady Catherine barked, her voice echoing through the room. She froze as she saw two women sitting in the room and looked back and forth between the pair of them. “Which one of you is Elizabeth Bennet?”

Jane’s face was pale, and she looked to Elizabeth for support, but Elizabeth herself was in too much shock to respond to the imperious woman.

“Well?” Lady Catherine demanded, her lips curled into a sneer. “I asked a question! Where is Elizabeth Bennet?” she repeated, her cane tapping sharply against the floor.

Elizabeth rose to her feet, her chin lifting with calm defiance. “There is no woman by that name here.”

Mr. Collins gasped, clutching his hands to his chest. “No, Lady Catherine, forgive her insolence! That is Miss Elizabeth Bennet—she is right there!”

Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed as she turned her piercing gaze on Elizabeth. “You dare to lie to me?”

Elizabeth’s composure remained steady. “I did not lie, madam. My name is Elizabeth Darcy.”

The air thickened with tension as Lady Catherine’s face contorted with rage. “Darcy?” she hissed. “You presume to call yourself Darcy? Do not play games with me, girl!” she thundered.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, prompting Lady Catherine’s eyes to bulge from her head. “You are the upstart Elizabeth Bennet! How dare you presume to enter my family, to take the place that rightfully belongs to my daughter and sister? The mistress of Pemberley! You are nothing but a scheming, impertinent nobody!”

Elizabeth met the onslaught with an unshaken demeanor. “I have taken no one’s place, Lady Catherine. I am Fitzwilliam Darcy’s wife, his chosen partner. That is the only claim I need.”

Lady Catherine’s cane slammed against the floor, her grip trembling. “You dare to defy me? To usurp the position once held by my beloved sister and my equally-beloved daughter?” Her voice rose to a near shriek, the unrestrained fury echoing through the room.

“I am very sorry for your loss,” Elizabeth replied calmly. “That role did indeed belong to both women, but as they are no longer living, Mr. Darcy was free to choose another wife. And he has chosen me .”

Lady Catherine’s composure cracked further. he slammed her cane against the floor, her voice trembling with rage. “You will seek an annulment at once!” she demanded, her voice trembling with manic intensity.

Elizabeth’s eyes flashed, her calm exterior breaking slightly. “I will do no such thing. My husband has done nothing but honor his commitments, love his family, and care for those in his charge. You have no right to demand such a thing.”

Lady Catherine’s eyes blazed. “Do you have no regard for your husband’s status? Have you no shame in dragging him down to the scorn of the world?”

Elizabeth’s lips curved in a faint, confident smile. “The world is intelligent enough to see this marriage for what it is— the union of a single gentleman to a single lady. And for those who cannot see that, their opinions hold no weight in my mind.”

“You insolent girl!” Lady Catherine snarled. “You think you can speak so lightly of status and decorum? You know nothing of either!”

“And neither, it appears, do you,” Elizabeth retorted, her hold on her manners beginning to slip. “I am amazed you would come all this way to berate me when there is nothing you can do about the happy situation of our marriage.”

“I am the daughter of an earl; do not dare to speak thusly to me! Bah, happiness— Darcy does not merit such a thing. He deserves to suffer, to live in penance for what he has done. He killed my daughter— his wife— and he should mourn her for the rest of his miserable existence.”

Elizabeth’s composure broke at last, her voice rising with fiery intensity. “He deserves to be happy! He is an honorable man, a loving father, and a devoted brother. He loves and cares for those in his life with a depth I have rarely seen.”

“Positions that he is not capable of filling, as evidenced by his poor choice in a wife. Rest assured, I will be taking my niece and my grandson with me back to Rosings. I demand they be brought to me this instant.”

“Absolutely not,” stated Elizabeth firmly. “You will not take them from him. I will fight for him, for us, for our family until my dying breath.”

Lady Catherine’s lips curled into a venomous sneer. “That can be arranged,” she snapped, raising her cane and moving toward Elizabeth with a sharp, menacing lunge.

The sudden motion startled Mr. Collins from his shocked silence. “No!” he cried, leaping forward in an attempt to block the blow.

The cane struck him instead, landing heavily on his shoulder. He staggered backward, clutching at the wound before crumpling to the floor with a pained gasp. Lady Catherine recoiled in surprise as Elizabeth charged forward, wrenching the gain from the older woman’s grasp.

At that moment, Darcy and Bingley rushed into the room, their faces alight with alarm. Darcy’s sharp gaze immediately sought Elizabeth, his eyes raking over her as he rushed to her side. “Elizabeth! Are you hurt?” His voice was tight with concern.

“I’m fine,” she assured him, though her voice trembled slightly. “I’m not hurt… but Mr. Collins…”

Bingley moved quickly to help Mr. Collins, who was clutching his side and groaning in pain. “Jane,” Bingley called, “he’s injured!”

Jane knelt beside Mr. Collins, her soothing presence calming the man as she examined his injury. Bingley then rounded on Lady Catherine. “Who the devil are you?” he demanded, his usually genial demeanor replaced by a rare firmness.

Meanwhile, Darcy’s protective hand settled on Elizabeth’s arm, his piercing gaze fixed on Lady Catherine. “This is my aunt, who is supposed to be at the Rosings dower hours. Lady Catherine, what is the meaning of this?” he asked, his voice cold and unyielding.

Lady Catherine’s eyes blazed with fury, but she said nothing, her chest heaving with anger. Elizabeth, still shaken but resolute, stepped closer to Darcy, her chin held high. “She came here to demand an annulment.”

Both gentlemen gaped, and Lady Catherine’s fury faltered under the combined scrutiny of the room. But her voice remained sharp as she said, “I was defending the honor of this family!”

Darcy’s jaw tightened as he rose to his full height, towering over his aunt. “By assaulting my wife?” he said, his voice deadly calm. “I thought your brother made it quite clear the last time he spoke to you that you were to remain in Kent. How on earth did you even get here without a carriage.”

“I am not as friendless as you supposed,” she retorted. “I have many people who are willing to help me in my righteous cause.”

“It’s my doing,” Mr. Collins gasped from the floor, attempting to sit up. “She asked if I could convey her to Hertfordshire. A family emergency, she said.”

“It was an emergency,” Lady Catherine hissed. “This… this hussy sought to rise above her station and infiltrate my family!”

Darcy shook his head. “Bingley, I fear my aunt has completely lost her reason, if not her entire hold on reality. If we could have Mrs. Nicholls fetch some laudanum, I shall send an express to my uncle. He should be in London now.”

“How dare you—”

Raising his voice, Darcy spoke above his aunt’s screeching. “Bingley, some footmen, please? And a guest chamber with only one door in or out?”

Lady Catherine spluttered with indignation, her face mottling with red as Darcy’s commands were carried out. Bingley stepped to the door and called for Mr. Roberts, instructing him to summon two footmen and prepare a secure room for their unwelcome guest. Lady Catherine’s screeches grew louder as she realized she was about to be removed. “I will not be confined like a common criminal! I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh! You cannot treat me this way!”

Elizabeth, still clutching Darcy’s arm, glanced at him with a mixture of concern and exhaustion. “She’s truly unwell, Fitzwilliam. This anger… this delusion… I don’t think she even recognizes the harm she’s causing.”

Darcy’s face softened slightly as he looked at Elizabeth, his voice low enough for her ears alone. “You’ve handled yourself remarkably, Elizabeth. Better than I expected anyone could. But she cannot be allowed to endanger you—or anyone—again.”

Before Elizabeth could respond, the footmen arrived, flanking Lady Catherine on either side. She attempted to push them away, but they remained steadfast.

“This is an outrage!” Lady Catherine cried, her voice reverberating off the walls. “You will regret this, Fitzwilliam. You will rue the day you allowed this… this woman to destroy our family’s legacy!”

Darcy turned to her, his expression colder than Elizabeth had ever seen. “You are my mother’s sister, Lady Catherine, but you have overstepped every boundary of decency and propriety. This ends now.”

“I will not go!” she screamed, her cane now in the hands of one of the footmen. “You will all regret this! Every single one of you!”

Elizabeth stayed rooted in place, her pulse racing. She felt Darcy’s hand tighten on her arm, a silent reassurance that steadied her nerves. As Lady Catherine was led from the room, she twisted to glare at Elizabeth, her voice dripping with venom. “You may think you’ve won, girl, but mark my words—you will never be one of us. Never!”

Elizabeth met her gaze without flinching. “I am not concerned with being ‘one of you,’ Lady Catherine. My only concern is for my husband, my family, and the happiness we have found together—something you seem incapable of understanding.”

Lady Catherine’s lips curled into a sneer, but the footmen guided her firmly out the door, cutting off whatever retort she had planned. Mrs. Nicholls appeared at the door with a small vial of laudanum in hand, her expression calm and composed.

Darcy stepped forward, addressing the housekeeper. “Mrs. Nicholls, please see that my aunt is settled in a guest room under watch. Ensure she receives an appropriate dose to calm her, but nothing excessive.”

“Of course, Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Nicholls replied with a slight curtsy.

The housekeeper followed behind the footmen, with Lady Catherine’s protests grew more faint as they moved down the hall. The tension in the room began to dissipate, though an uncomfortable silence lingered, broken only by Mr. Collins’s pained groan as he tried to sit up.

“Stay still, Mr. Collins,” Jane urged, her voice soft and calming as she adjusted a pillow behind him. “You’ve had quite the ordeal.”

“I cannot… believe… I intervened against her ladyship,” he gasped, his hand trembling as it pressed against his side. “But she was about to strike Mrs. Darcy—such a noble creature deserves no less than my utmost protection!”

Elizabeth blinked in surprise, unsure how to respond to the overblown sentiment. Jane, ever the peacemaker, spoke softly. “Mr. Collins, you should rest before your journey. I’ll have Mrs. Hill prepare something to ease your discomfort.”

Mr. Collins nodded, his gratitude evident as he allowed himself to be led out by a maid. With him gone, Jane turned to Elizabeth, her expression a mix of admiration and worry. “Lizzy, are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” Elizabeth assured her, though her voice trembled slightly. She looked to Darcy, who placed a steadying hand on her back. “But I think I need a moment.”

Jane smiled gently. “Of course. Perhaps some tea?”

Elizabeth nodded, and Jane left the room to see to it. The parlor now contained only Darcy, Elizabeth, and Bingley, who seemed to be caught between concern and disbelief.

“Well,” Bingley said at last, breaking the silence. “That was… something.”

Darcy huffed, running a hand through his hair. “It was madness.”

Elizabeth glanced up at him, her brow furrowed. “Fitzwilliam, what will happen now? Will your uncle intervene?”

Darcy sighed, his hand sliding from his hair to rest lightly on her shoulder. “I will write to him immediately. He’ll ensure she is removed to a place where she can be cared for. Her state is… beyond anything I anticipated.”

Elizabeth nodded, though her heart ached with the weight of it all. “She threatened to take Georgiana and Andrew.”

“She won’t,” Darcy said firmly, his voice steel. “I will not allow it.”

She met his gaze, and for a moment, the storm in her chest eased. Darcy’s resolve, his quiet strength, steadied her in a way she couldn’t yet put into words.

“She’s… unrelenting,” Elizabeth murmured. “I’ve never seen such vitriol.”

Darcy’s hand slid from her arm to her hand, his fingers warm and firm around hers. “You handled her remarkably well. I could not have asked for more composure or strength from anyone, least of all under such an assault.”

Elizabeth looked up at him, her heart aching at the tenderness in his gaze. “I only did what I had to do.”

“You did far more than that,” he said quietly. “You defended not only yourself but also me, Georgiana, and Andrew. You are more than I could have ever hoped for, Elizabeth.”

The words, so simple yet filled with such earnestness, struck a chord deep within her. She gave a shaky smile, gripping his hand tighter. “And you are far more patient than I could have imagined, Fitzwilliam.”

He smiled faintly, his free hand brushing a stray curl from her face. “Patience is one of my few virtues, I fear. But even patience has its limits, as my aunt has now discovered.”

Elizabeth’s laughter, soft and unbidden, broke through the lingering tension. Darcy’s lips quirked into a rare smile, and for a moment, the weight of the evening lifted.

Georgiana crept cautiously back into the room, Mrs. Annesley following a few steps behind. “Is she… gone?” Georgiana asked hesitantly, her wide eyes scanning the room as if Lady Catherine might materialize from the shadows.

Darcy approached her, his voice gentle. “She’s been taken to a room, Georgiana. She won’t harm anyone here. Thank you for coming to fetch me.”

Relief flooded Georgiana’s face, and she sank into a nearby chair. “I never thought I would see her again… not after everything.”

Elizabeth moved to Georgiana’s side, taking her hand gently. “You were brave, Georgiana. Leaving the room was no small act of courage, especially with such a formidable presence.”

Georgiana shook her head. “I wasn’t brave at all. I fled.”

“But you left to get help,” Elizabeth countered. “And then you returned; that is no small thing.”

Georgiana glanced up, her cheeks coloring slightly as she gave Elizabeth a tentative smile. Mrs. Annesley patted Georgiana’s shoulder, her calm presence grounding the moment.

Jane returned then, her expression serene but firm. “I think we’ve all had enough for one day,” she said gently. “Perhaps it would be best if we all took dinner in our rooms tonight, and not just Elizabeth and Darcy. A bit of peace and quiet will do us good.”

Elizabeth met Jane’s knowing gaze and gave a subtle nod. “I think that’s an excellent suggestion.”

Her pulse quickened. as a delicate heat rose to her cheeks. Tonight would be the night she shared her heart, her resolve solidifying in the tender weight of his gaze. Whatever fears lingered within her, she knew she could no longer hold back.

As the others began to disperse, Elizabeth turned to Darcy and touched his arm lightly, drawing his attention. “Fitzwilliam,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, “will you join me in my room before you take your dinner tray? There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”

His brow furrowed slightly, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “Of course, Elizabeth,” he replied, his tone gentle. “I’ll come to you.”

She nodded, her heart thundering in her chest as she watched him leave the room. Left alone, she allowed herself a deep, steadying breath, her hands tightening briefly at her sides. Whatever the outcome, she would tell him the truth.

Tonight, everything would change.

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