Chapter X #2
It was all Elizabeth could do not to laugh at the irony—had Lady Catherine understood how close Mr. Darcy was to shirking his duty, her current anger would be but a pale shadow of the displeasure she would unleash.
Mrs. Bennet understood something of this, for her eyes found Elizabeth, uncertainty written on her brow.
Elizabeth replied with a minute shake of her head, and her mother understood that to speak now would be to unleash a storm unlike anything the old house had ever seen.
As Lady Catherine turned her attention back to Jane, Elizabeth decided at once that there was only one who could force the lady to retreat. With quiet efficiency, determined not to provoke the lady’s notice, Elizabeth went to Mrs. Hill.
“Please summon Mr. Bennet at once.”
The woman nodded, curtseyed, and hastened from the room. Elizabeth turned her attention back to Lady Catherine and Jane.
“Now, I demand that you tell me at once—has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?”
“As I already told you,” replied Jane, “Colonel Fitzwilliam has not declared himself.”
“Yes, I heard you. The question is whether I can trust your assurances.”
“I have no reason to hide. If I were engaged to Colonel Fitzwilliam, I would inform you without disguise.”
Lady Catherine regarded her, and after several moments, she nodded.
“Very well. You appear to be a sensible sort of woman. If you are, then you must understand that any alliance between my nephew and you is a most unequal match. Therefore, I shall give you this one chance to foreswear any intention of provoking him and promise that you will not accept a proposal if he loses control of his reason.”
As Elizabeth might have expected, Jane appeared almost apologetic. “I cannot comply, Lady Catherine. While I cannot say if he means to offer for me, I shall consult my own feelings about whether to accept him.”
The way Lady Catherine stared at Jane, shock hardening to rage, Elizabeth was certain no one had ever defied her. Knowing what her response must be, Elizabeth moved to stand next to her sister. Lady Catherine did not take kindly to her support.
“Who are you, and what do you mean by challenging me?”
“I am Elizabeth, Jane’s sister. Jane will have my support.”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” Her name on Lady Catherine’s tongue sounded like an epithet. “I should have known. The woman who rejected a most eligible offer of marriage now encourages her sister to flout my authority.”
“I shall not argue about my rejection of Mr. Collins,” replied Elizabeth. “It is none of your concern.”
“Of course, it is my concern,” barked the lady. “Mr. Collins is my parson—his concerns are mine.”
“Then you must rejoice in my rejection,” replied Elizabeth. “You would not have appreciated me as Mr. Collins’s wife.”
The lady glared at her, then nodded. “Given your impertinent obstinacy, I cannot but suppose you are correct. Step aside, girl, for I have no interest in you.”
“The only one who will withdraw is you.”
Lady Catherine whirled to see Mr. Bennet standing in the door, appearing devoid of the amusement that usually adorned his features.
“And who are you?”
Proving he was not devoid of sardonic amusement at the scene, Mr. Bennet’s lip twisted. “Come now, Lady Catherine, you must know that I am the master of this house.”
“Perhaps you are, but you have not done your duty.”
“What duty is that?”
“Why, reining in your unrestrained daughters, of course. What sort of man allows his progeny to fling themselves at wealthy men?”
The exasperation on her father’s face was akin to what Elizabeth felt. She responded before he could.
“What nonsense!”
Lady Catherine’s angry gaze found her again, but Elizabeth was not cowed.
“Anyone who accuses Jane of such behavior does not know her. My sister is most proper—any suggestion to the contrary is absurd.”
“And yet, she is attempting to draw my nephew into her web.”
“I have drawn no one in,” replied Jane. “Colonel Fitzwilliam has made his preference for my company clear to all. If you wish to object to his behavior, then I suggest you take it up with him.”
“I am taking it up with you!”
“Not any longer,” said Mr. Bennet.
He stepped toward Lady Catherine and insinuated himself before her, motioning Jane and Elizabeth to retreat. Though still wary of the lady, Elizabeth stepped away, allowing her father to handle the situation.
“Lady Catherine, I require you to leave,” said Mr. Bennet. “It is pointless to approach a woman who can only receive a gentleman or not. Go to Netherfield Park and take your grievance up with your nephew, for we will not give you satisfaction.”
The lady watched him as if trying to understand how resolved he was—she may not have bothered. Mr. Bennet was often lackadaisical in performing his duties and allowed his daughters to go their way more often than he should, but he would tolerate no attacks on his family.
“Very well,” said Lady Catherine. “I see that I cannot reason with you.”
Lady Catherine jabbed a skeletal finger at Jane. “Do not suppose you will entrap my nephew, for I shall know how to act.”
When Jane did not respond—wisely in Elizabeth’s opinion—the lady turned and stalked from the room. Silence fell in the wake of her going.
“What a virago!” exclaimed Lydia, the first to recover. “I feel sorry for Colonel Fitzwilliam for having such a shrew as an aunt.”
“Yes, Lydia, it is a deplorable connection,” said Mr. Bennet. He turned a grin on Jane. “Given this display, I cannot but imagine you are now reconsidering the colonel’s interest in you.”
“Not at all, Papa,” replied Jane, unaffected by his jest. “Should I marry Colonel Fitzwilliam, I would marry him, not his family.”
“Good girl,” said Mr. Bennet with a wink. “Now that we have the measure of Mr. Collins’s patroness, I cannot but suppose it was fortunate that Lizzy refused his proposal.”
Even Mrs. Bennet allowed that observation to have merit, though her agreement was more muted than everyone else.
“Now that the excitement is over,” said Mr. Bennet, “I was enjoying a good book—I shall return to my study and take it up again.”
Mr. Bennet turned to his wife. “As I suspect Lady Catherine will accost Fitzwilliam and Darcy at Netherfield and will not stint in informing them of her adventure at Longbourn, the gentlemen will arrive within an hour. I suggest you inform Cook of our additions for dinner, Mrs. Bennet.”
“I shall see to it at once,” said Mrs. Bennet, never one to reject the notion of having gentlemen at her table—especially gentlemen interested in her daughters.
A moment later, the ladies were all seated again with their various pursuits, though every thought was on the scene just concluded. Elizabeth turned to Jane.
“You were far more forceful with Lady Catherine than I might have expected, Jane.”
Jane replied with a bright smile. “Colonel Fitzwilliam did not suppose Lady Catherine would journey here to confront us, but he told me how to handle her should she confound their understanding.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Then his advice did not work, for it incensed her more.”
“Perhaps it did, but she has departed, and none of us are the worse for it. That is the best we could hope for.”
ANTHONY FITZWILLIAM was not in the habit of tolerating foolishness. Stupidity, however, was unavoidable when confronted by Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
“Fitzwilliam!” cried the woman the moment she entered the room. “There is a matter I must discuss with you.”
“Good day to you too, Lady Catherine,” said Fitzwilliam, reflecting on the novelty of being the focus of Lady Catherine’s attention—Darcy was the target because of her ridiculous insistence on the cradle betrothal.
“Do not ‘good day’ me, Fitzwilliam!” snapped she. “I have heard about what has been happening in Hertfordshire these past weeks, and I have come to put a stop to it.”
“Oh?” asked Fitzwilliam, already fatigued with the lady’s presence. “That is curious, Lady Catherine—I cannot help but wonder how you mean to impose your will upon me.”
“Be silent, Fitzwilliam! If you have forgotten it, I shall remind you. Your duty is to wed a woman of the proper lineage, a woman who provides connections that will benefit the family. Though I know you understand this, it appears you have allowed a pretty face to turn your head. Well, I shall not allow it. I shall not allow you to ruin the family by taking such an unsuitable wife.”
Lady Catherine ranted, screeched, cajoled, and threatened, but Fitzwilliam remained silent, allowing her to tire herself.
It was fortunate that Lady Catherine did not require a response, for Fitzwilliam did not think he could summon the tolerance necessary to show respect for an elder relation, though he supposed she did not deserve it.
By his side, it appeared Darcy was equally unaffected by their aunt’s displeasure, for he watched her, betraying nothing of his feelings.
Fitzwilliam, who was better acquainted with him than any other, could see something in the set to his jaw that spoke of determination as if Lady Catherine’s harangue was directed at him.
“Well, Fitzwilliam?” demanded Lady Catherine after she had repeated herself for more than five minutes. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Nothing that I wish to say to you, Lady Catherine. What I do is my concern—it has nothing to do with you.”
“Of course, it concerns me!” raged the lady. “Am I not a close relation? Will any imprudent match with a family such as the Bennets not affect me?”
“I cannot imagine how it would,” replied Fitzwilliam. “Even if society at large took exception to my choice, you never leave Rosings Park. Thus, if I end in infamy, it cannot affect you.”
“Insolent boy! Is this how you treat me?”
“It is when you are being unreasonable.”
“That is a rare occurrence to be sure,” muttered Darcy.
Perhaps it was fortunate that Lady Catherine did not hear him. It was even more fortunate for Fitzwilliam’s ability to hear that he did not mean to endure Lady Catherine any longer.
“Lady Catherine, I require you to desist. I am my own man and can make my own choices without reference to you or anyone else.”
“What of your father? Do you suppose he will stand aside while you ruin the family?”
“I have already written my mother about Miss Bennet, and she is eager to make her acquaintance.” Fitzwilliam felt a sense of perverse enjoyment when the lady’s eyes widened in shock.
“As for my father, he is reasonable and will wait to take her measure before rendering judgment. I have every confidence in Miss Bennet’s abilities—my parents will welcome her with open arms when they make her acquaintance. ”
“This is ridiculous!” spat Lady Catherine, pacing about the room, her hand gestures agitated. “You cannot possibly be considering a young woman of no consequence in the world as the future daughter of an earl.”
“If I am, it is of no concern to you.”
“Is this your final word?” demanded she.
“If you believe otherwise, I am shocked by your lack of discernment. I shall not follow your edicts, Lady Catherine; take your bitterness somewhere else.”
“Very well, I shall know how to act.”
“Before you depart,” said Darcy, speaking for the first time, “since we are discussing your nephews following their own path, I should make something clear, Lady Catherine—something I ought to have addressed long ago. Though I know it has been a cherished dream to unite Rosings and Pemberley, I will inform you now that it will never happen. I am also my own man and will plot my course in life—that course does not involve marriage to Anne.”
In other circumstances, Lady Catherine’s utter stupefaction would have been amusing. As it was, Fitzwilliam could not but wonder why Darcy had seen fit to raise the subject now.
What ensued was no credit to anyone, least of all to Lady Catherine.
The lady recovered her wits and discovered her piercing voice long before Fitzwilliam might have wished, using it to good effect.
The argument was long and draining, and Fitzwilliam could have predicted it all in advance.
When the lady departed, offended and determined to approach the earl and ensure he “talk sense to them,” Fitzwilliam turned to his cousin before the sound of his aunt’s cane on the tiles faded from the house.
“I am curious, Darcy. Why did you bring up the cradle arrangement with Anne, of all things, at a time like this?”
Darcy sank into the sofa and massaged his temples. “Because it seemed best to extend one argument rather than provoke another.”
Fitzwilliam snorted. “The argument will persist for some time yet. If Lady Catherine does not alter the course of the heavens in her rage, it will be nothing less than a miracle.”
“To own the truth,” said Darcy, “I had never considered what would ensue when I told Lady Catherine I would not marry Anne. I knew she would be angry, but her opposition to your attentions to Miss Bennet opened my eyes in several respects. If she was that incensed when confronted with your interest, I knew it would be a pale shadow compared to what mine would mean.”
“That makes sense,” agreed Fitzwilliam after a moment’s thought. Fitzwilliam eyed him for several moments. “Then you confess your interest in Miss Elizabeth.”
“I do,” said Darcy, deciding that evasion was pointless.
“Then it made sense to raise the subject when she was already enraged.”
“That is what I thought.”
“I suppose we should be away to Longbourn,” said Fitzwilliam.
Darcy nodded. “Even if she did not speak of Miss Bennet as if she had made her acquaintance, we both know her well enough to understand how she acted.”
“It is fortunate that I told Miss Bennet how to handle her. She is capable, but Aunt Catherine is a force of nature.”
Darcy nodded and summoned the butler to call for the coach. Within fifteen minutes, they had entered the carriage for the brief journey back to Longbourn.