Chapter 10
CHAPTER TEN
M any of Elizabeth’s questions regarding Lord Fulford were answered when he arrived at his London home early on Thursday afternoon, loudly demanding entrance. She and Lady Fulford were sitting together when he stumbled through the drawing room doorway. He was dishevelled and reeked of drink.
“Who is that?” Lord Fulford demanded, pointing at Elizabeth.
He dropped heavily onto the couch closest to her and squinted at her in a manner she could only call lustful. She was instantly reminded of Mr Bull pressing against her and promising he would not hurt her. Remaining calm, she forced a polite smile and kept her eyes on Lady Fulford.
“This is Miss Bennet, who is engaged to Darcy, as I have told you before.” Lady Fulford gave him a stern look; he took no heed.
He leant towards Elizabeth, and she recoiled, her nostrils stinging at his stench. “Not much of you, is there? Pretty though. Clever, too, if you were able to turn Darcy’s head.”
“Fulford, desist,” Lady Fulford hissed, her eyes darting nervously to Elizabeth. “You must mind what you say.”
He gave a loud snort, stretching out his legs, dirt from his boots falling onto the carpet. “‘Tis not what I say, but all of London. At least Darcy has been leg-shackled to a fine-looking woman. Some of us do not have the same good fortune.” He glanced at his wife, his expression full of disdain.
Unable to remain silent in the face of such insults to herself and a lady she considered a friend, Elizabeth said, “I cannot imagine Mr Darcy would appreciate the tone you are using towards me—or to his cousin.”
“Darcy can go to the devil!” Abruptly, he stood and strode toward the door, demanding that a tray be sent to his room immediately.
Once they were alone, Lady Fulford was unwilling to meet Elizabeth’s eye. Pink spots appeared on her cheeks.
“You must forgive my husband,” she said unsteadily. “He has been drinking and has forgot himself. I ask you not to judge him on this first meeting alone. Fulford is altogether different when he is sober. I am sure the next time you meet will be a more pleasant encounter.”
“Of course,” replied Elizabeth. She would not admit that Lord Fulford’s words had found their mark, whether he had meant to wound her or not. All of London considers me to be a scheming fortune-hunter. She longed to be somewhere else or amongst familiar people. Briefly, she considered pleading illness and forgoing that evening’s dinner with Mr Darcy’s family. But what manner of friend would she be to Lady Fulford if she did? What would Mr Darcy and his relations think of her? She went to sit by her friend and lightly touched her arm. “How often is he like this?”
“Hardly ever,” she replied too quickly for Elizabeth’s liking. “Promise me you will not breathe a word of it to Darcy. I hate to worry him just because Fulford drinks and gambles more than he should on occasion.”
“He is a gamester too?” Elizabeth cried in shock. “You know I cannot promise to keep it from Mr Darcy.” Lady Fulford looked ready to protest, so Elizabeth added, “But I shall give you time to tell him yourself. I am sure your parents would want to know about your husband’s conduct.”
Lady Fulford shook her head glumly. “You have not met my family. Once you have, you will know how little it would matter to them.”
It was with no small amount of trepidation that Elizabeth arrived a few hours later at the Berkeley Square residence of Lord and Lady Matlock. She glanced at her gown, a dark crushed velvet that she considered her finest. Lady Fulford had insisted she borrow a mother-of-pearl hairpin, and it pressed uncomfortably into her head. Elizabeth had thought she looked well, but seeing the house—larger and even more elegant than the Fulfords’—she feared her appearance would be found lacking.
“We are early,” Lady Fulford observed, declining to admit the reason though Elizabeth was certain they must both be thinking it: they had left Curzon Street with far more time than was necessary to make the trip, driven out by Lord Fulford’s presence. “We should go for a quick stroll.” She indicated a garden in the middle of the square.
Elizabeth agreed, hoping the exercise would settle her nerves.
The small park was crowded, and Lady Fulford’s light-hearted manner soon returned. She began to share observations on other people. Elizabeth laughed a little at her jokes, but there was a bitterness in her companion’s voice, which Elizabeth attributed to all the unpleasantness of the earlier encounter with Lord Fulford.
A matronly woman, whose gown contained too many flounces and her hat too many plumes, strode decisively towards them, calling, “Dearest Lady Fulford! How fortunate that I should meet you here.” Without waiting for a reply, she motioned towards Elizabeth. “You must introduce me to your charming friend.” She ran her eyes over Elizabeth's person, no doubt making notes to repeat to countless eager ears in the days ahead.
Lady Fulford did as requested, explaining to Elizabeth that the woman was “Lady Fortescue. She is a distant relation of my husband.”
“Am I to understand that you are the Miss Bennet everyone is talking about?” Lady Fortescue raised an enquiring eyebrow. “I am delighted to meet you, and may I congratulate you on your recent engagement? Mr Darcy is a delightful gentleman, so elegant and refined. Handsome too! I am sure you will not mind me saying so. No woman was ever good enough to tempt him into marriage until now. You must call upon me at your earliest convenience. I would be pleased to receive you.” Lady Fortescue paused, and her eyes drifted to Elizabeth’s midriff. “Will you be married soon?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks burnt at the woman’s insinuation. “We have not decided on a date. Mr Darcy suggested the summer, so that we could enjoy a wedding trip to the Lakes immediately afterwards.”
A shadow behind Elizabeth caused her to turn; it was Mr Darcy, and a thrill rushed through her as he took his place by her side.
“So I did,” he said. “We might go even further and lose ourselves in the wilds of Cumberland where I shall have you to myself.”
His eyes shone with a tender warmth, and he looked every inch the man in love. A convincing performance, she thought . She placed her hand in the crook of his elbow, quietly claiming him. It would give the many people observing them something additional to gossip about.
“I happened to see you and my cousin as I arrived,” he told her before turning to greet Lady Fulford and Lady Fortescue. To the former, he offered his other arm; to the latter, he said, “You will excuse us. My aunt is expecting us.” He scarcely waited for her to answer as he guided them away.
A look of glee lit up Lady Fulford’s face. “I applaud you, Darcy. That pompous old windbag was being unconscionably vulgar, even for her.”
“I regret I did not arrive sooner to spare you both her conversation,” he said. “Why did you not go directly into the house?”
Lady Fulford said that they had been too early. “I did not feel it wise to expose Miss Bennet to my parents before it was absolutely necessary.”
Alarmed, Mr Darcy turned to Elizabeth. “You are not anxious, are you?” She shook her head before he went on. “You have already charmed Cecilia. My cousin Fitzwilliam will surely fall under your spell. My uncle appears formidable, but do not let that worry you in the slightest, for he has a generous nature underneath his gruff demeanour.”
“You did not include Lady Matlock in your description of welcoming relatives,” Elizabeth observed wryly.
“My aunt is a woman of decided opinions.” Mr Darcy exchanged a look with Lady Fulford. “But I have every confidence in your ability to win her approval.”
“And your cousin, the viscount, will he be there?” Elizabeth recalled Lady Fulford’s less than flattering description of her eldest brother.
A shadow passed briefly across Mr Darcy’s face. “It is unlikely that he will be in attendance. He does not care much for family events.” He looked down at her face and placed a reassuring hand over hers. “Remember, I shall be with you. Let us go inside where it is warm. Georgiana is eager to meet you.”
The room fell quiet as Elizabeth and Mr Darcy entered. She counted four new faces, but only one appeared pleased to see her. Lady Fulford kissed her parents and sat on a low sofa, her manner suddenly subdued and unhappy. Elizabeth felt Mr Darcy’s body tense beside her as he introduced her to Lord and Lady Matlock and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Her hand was still on his arm, and he covered it with one of his own before introducing her to the final member of their party: his sister. She felt an increase of pressure from his hand to hers, and sensed that he was asking her to be careful with Miss Darcy. Elizabeth smiled warmly at the young lady and was surprised when she bit her lip and glanced nervously at her aunt.
“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Elizabeth said to her hosts, curtseying politely.
“We are surprised to make yours,” Lord Matlock said, the sharp lines of his face seeming severe and disapproving. “We had no notion our nephew intended to marry, especially a lady wholly unknown to us.”
“As I have explained, I had hoped that you would meet Miss Bennet before I told you of our engagement,” Mr Darcy replied, his voice tight.
Lady Matlock scarcely looked at Elizabeth before saying, “At least she appears to be respectable. I was worried when I learnt that she was staying with Cecilia. I did not wish my daughter to be tainted.” To Lady Fulford, she added, “You and your husband can teach Miss Bennet how to behave in decent society.”
Elizabeth bit her lip to prevent herself from saying more than she should about Lord Fulford’s manners. Fortunately, before the countess or earl could say anything else insulting, Colonel Fitzwilliam addressed her.
“Please sit down, Miss Bennet, and forgive my parents’ forthrightness. I am sure I speak for them as well as myself when I say we have been anxious to meet you.”
She managed to smile but knew it was insincere. Mr Darcy led her to a chair near his sister.
“Am I to understand Thorpe is not expected?” Mr Darcy asked, naming his cousin, the viscount. He crossed the room to sit next to Lady Fulford.
“I told Marguerite to remain with her son and husband. Albert has the toothache, and it transpires that Thorpe accompanied dear Fulford to a soirée last night, and he is now suffering with a headache.” Lady Matlock evidently held her eldest son dear as her voice took on an affectionate tone at the mention of his name.
By the look on Lady Fulford’s face, this news had not come as a surprise. It appeared that Lady Fulford’s husband and brother were good friends. If only she had told me, thought Elizabeth. Then I would know what to expect when I finally meet the viscount. If he was at all like Lord Fulford, she was glad he was absent.
Determined to do her part to ensure the dinner would pass smoothly, she said, “I am sorry to hear it. I was looking forward to meeting both of your sons.”
“And why might that be?” Lady Matlock enquired suspiciously.
“I was under the impression that meeting Mr Darcy’s relations would be a pleasurable experience.” Elizabeth smiled politely, determined to remain calm in the face of Lady Matlock’s interrogative manner.
The colonel smiled at her. “That is kind of you, but I promise, his absence is no loss to our party. He is a bear after a night out with my brother-in-law.” He turned to his sister. “Where is Fulford?”
“He is ill and sends his apologies.” Lady Fulford gave Elizabeth a pleading look, evidently hoping she would say nothing about her husband’s behaviour.
“He appears to be ill rather often. Has he consulted a doctor?”Mr Darcy asked, a note of concern in his voice.
“He will if it continues.” Lady Fulford ended the conversation with a decisive fold of her hands in her lap. “We are here to remember Dominic, not discuss my husband.”
A dark cloud passed over Mr Darcy’s face at the mention of his cousin’s name, and he left Lady Fulford’s side to join Lord Matlock by the fire. Elizabeth did not miss the look of compassion on the older man’s face as Mr Darcy drew up a chair. She attempted to engage Miss Darcy and Lady Fulford in a conversation, but every time she started a new topic, Lady Matlock would criticise some aspect of her daughter’s appearance. Elizabeth did not know how her friend could stand so much nitpicking. Mrs Bennet could fuss endlessly at the state of Elizabeth’s hair or dress, but maternal concern always underpinned her clucking. There was no such affection between Lady Matlock and her daughter.
The colonel came to sit with them and struck up a conversation with Elizabeth and Miss Darcy. The young girl needed to be coaxed to say more than one or two words at a time. Colonel Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, spoke easily, even sharing amusing anecdotes from his military career. Mr Darcy did not say much, but she felt his eyes upon her frequently, and she felt protected in a way that she had never experienced before.
Dinner was announced, and once in the dining room, the distraction of eating allowed Elizabeth to feel more ease. She was grateful that Mr Darcy had been seated next to her. As the meal progressed, she began to relax, conversing more freely with Colonel Fitzwilliam, whose affable nature drew Miss Darcy from her anxious shell and softened his mother’s harshness. He even managed to put a smile on his sister’s face with his jokes. Every so often, the colonel would pose a question to Mr Darcy, who would answer in his abrupt staccato way, which, Elizabeth was quickly learning, meant he was particularly uncomfortable. Lord Matlock made several enquiries of his son and seemed pleased by his responses. Even though Mr Darcy’s uncle said little to her, Elizabeth sensed each of her movements was being judged and weighed upon an invisible scale. She was relieved when a new course was brought in and served, and the attention was moved away from her.
Lady Matlock had just begun to ask the colonel of his plans in London when a flustered servant entered the room and announced the arrival of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. A large, imposing woman of some fifty years burst into the dining room.
“Where is she? Where is this Miss Elizabeth Bennet who saw fit to entrap my nephew?” Lady Catherine demanded as her gaze darted angrily about the room. Her eyes settled upon Elizabeth, seated next to Mr Darcy, who was leaning towards her protectively. “I suppose you are the chit?”
“I am Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Elizabeth replied evenly, “but I have not entrapped anyone. Nor am I a chit.”
The older woman’s body quivered with rage. “Thoughtless girl! To give me such an answer when the whole world knows differently.”
“I did not know that the whole world knew of my feelings or my reasons for accepting your nephew,” Elizabeth said evenly, rather hoping someone—Mr Darcy, for one—would speak on her behalf.
“Darcy is engaged to my daughter. What do you make of that, impudent miss?”
“If Mr Darcy were already engaged, then you cannot suppose he would make an offer of marriage to me. You should apply to your nephew directly if you wish for him to explain his actions.”
Mr Darcy took her hand, and a warmth flew through Elizabeth’s body, filling her with confidence. He said, “I must ask you to temper your voice and reflect upon your choice of words, Lady Catherine.”
The woman took no notice of his warning. “Darcy, have you taken leave of your senses? Who are her family? You cannot persuade me that she is the woman who will bear the next heir to Pemberley! And that terrible article! Do not think I have not seen it. No doubt the author was correct. She has used her seductive arts to make you forget what is owed to your family. It is only the weak-minded who succumb to temptations of the flesh.”
Here there was an exclamation from Lady Fulford and the colonel, but it was Mr Darcy who responded first.
“You will address Miss Bennet with respect.” Mr Darcy’s voice grew sterner. “As to an engagement to Anne, it is of your invention. I have never desired it.”
“It was the wish of your dear late mother. Or does that mean little to you compared to the charms of a pretty face? A woman’s appearance will fade in time, and you will be left with nothing but a burden, a withered baggage to look after and keep. No one respects this choice. Your friends, your family–will all desert you.”
Mr Darcy’s hand tightened around Elizabeth’s. Miss Darcy had sunk into her chair, her gaze firmly in her lap, tears dripping silently onto her dress. Lady Fulford and Colonel Fitzwilliam were exchanging uncomfortable glances. Even Lord and Lady Matlock appeared aghast.
This is ridiculous , Elizabeth thought. I do not wish for Mr Darcy to quarrel with his family because of an absurd article or because of our engagement, which he has only entered into as a means of protecting me!
Without thinking, she said, “He will not be alone, Lady Catherine. Apart from me, he has many others who care deeply for him and will rejoice in his happiness.”
Lady Catherine gaped at Elizabeth before exclaiming, “Of all the insolence!”
“Catherine, hold your tongue,” Lord Matlock interjected. Elizabeth was relieved he had finally found his voice. “You have arrived—unannounced—on what is meant to be a day of reflection, all for the apparent purpose of arguing with Darcy.”
Lady Catherine turned to her brother. “Do you give your support to this union?”
“I give my support to Darcy’s happiness, and I shall not have you question his devotion to his mother within my hearing.” The earl sighed heavily. “Go home, Catherine. Return to Rosings and occupy yourself with Anne. Today should be spent strengthening the bonds between us, not ripping them asunder.”
Lady Catherine swept her eyes over Elizabeth with a look of scorn. “You will regret this, Darcy.” She strode from the room without another word, leaving the others in silence for a long moment.
“I suppose she will not want to attend the wedding,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, causing Lady Fulford to snort with laughter.
“Speak kindly of your aunt, Richard,” Lady Matlock said.
“I do not see why he should. Lady Catherine was unconscionably rude,” Lady Fulford retorted.
“I wish to leave,” Miss Darcy announced. The rims of her eyes were red, and her bottom lip trembled. “I do not feel well. Please may we return home, Brother?”
“Of course.” Mr Darcy regarded Elizabeth. “Do you mind? Would you like to come with us, you and my cousin, I mean?”
Lord and Lady Matlock protested Mr Darcy’s early departure, but Elizabeth could see that his mind was made up.
Lady Fulford said, “Georgiana looks too fatigued to receive guests. Perhaps, Darcy, would you and Georgiana prefer to take Miss Bennet for a short carriage ride before escorting her back to Curzon Street? I must return first to see that Fulford is properly settled for the night. And I wish to speak to him privately. I believe you are correct that he should see a doctor. A tedious business and I am sure Miss Bennet would much rather spend a little more time in your company.” Across the room, she glanced at Elizabeth, who sensed that Lady Fulford wished to return to the house alone. Mr Darcy agreed, and he, his sister, and Elizabeth rose to depart. The earl and colonel also stood.
Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed to Elizabeth, saying, “Despite the sombre occasion and the unwelcome guest, it has been a pleasure to meet you, Miss Bennet.”
“A pleasure, Miss Bennet.” Lord Matlock echoed, nodding his head courteously.
“When you attend the theatre with us, you must wear something red. A deep colour that will give a greater brilliancy to your complexion. A shawl would do nicely,” said Lady Matlock, who did not appear to rejoice in the knowledge that Elizabeth would be joining them.
Her hand firmly in the crook of Mr Darcy’s arm, Elizabeth politely said her farewell, wondering how he could bear to spend time with either of his aunts.