Chapter XI
The atmosphere at Longbourn was far too festive for the events that had occurred that day.
After Lady Catherine stalked into the cold winter day in rage and resolve, the family learned to view her ridiculous interference with the appropriate measure of disdain.
For anyone to suppose that she might direct another by nothing more than her commands was hubris of which Elizabeth had not thought anyone capable.
True to Mr. Bennet’s prediction, the gentlemen arrived at Longbourn about ninety minutes later. The master of the house emerged from his study to welcome them, and he was not inclined to restrain his wit.
“Well, gentlemen, I will own that you have surprised me. I had judged that you would again darken my door no more than an hour after Lady Catherine departed.”
“That is because you do not know what happened at Netherfield,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a grin.
“Is that so?” Mr. Bennet returned his gesture, though his grin was more akin to what a wolf might wear as it stalked prey. “Then the lady proved even more obstinate than I anticipated.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam turned a lazy eye to Mr. Darcy. “Well, Darcy? This is more properly your tale than mine.”
“Then Lady Catherine directs the marriage prospects of all her family?” chortled Mr. Bennet. “That is admirable, gentlemen, for even with all my cousin’s tales of her, I had not thought she was this meddling.”
“It is worse than you know, Mr. Bennet,” replied Mr. Darcy. “Lady Catherine’s opposition to my cousin’s activities was not unexpected, but we had not supposed she would make a day’s journey to share her sentiments. For me, however, she would journey ten times as far.”
“Now you must share, Darcy, for I am afire with curiosity.”
Mr. Darcy nodded and addressed them all, but as he spoke, it was Elizabeth’s distinct impression that he was speaking to her.
“As you all must already know, Lady Catherine has a daughter, Anne de Bourgh.”
“Mr. Collins spoke of her when he visited,” said Mrs. Bennet.
“Though not so much as he spoke of his patroness,” added Elizabeth.
The comment provoked a measure of exasperated laughter—everyone in the room had experienced Mr. Collins’s particular foibles.
“That is no surprise, Miss Elizabeth,” said Mr. Darcy, the soft smile he directed at her evidence of his regard.
“Lady Catherine surrounds herself with those who will not dare contradict her. There are a few like Collins who toady to her, but Lady Catherine’s primary concern is that they do what she instructs. ”
“This is admirable, Darcy,” said Mr. Bennet. “As you invoked her ladyship’s daughter, I must suppose Lady Catherine’s interest in your amorous activities means she has some expectations of you.”
“It springs from when I was a boy,” said Mr. Darcy with a nod.
“Lady Catherine claims she discussed and agreed with her sister—my mother—that Anne and I would join the two estates in matrimony. The curious part of all this is that my mother never spoke to my father or me on the subject, and Lady Catherine did not begin to push the scheme until after my father’s passing. ”
“Then Lady Catherine is perpetrating a falsehood? I might never have suspected that such an august woman was capable of such duplicity.”
“How dare you accuse my aunt of lying, Mr. Bennet!” exclaimed Colonel Fitzwilliam, feigning outrage. “Do you not know that she is the foremost, the most upright, the most honest lady in all of England? Why, she owns it herself!”
Had Lady Catherine not descended on them all that day, the Bennets might not have understood the full measure of the jest. Since they had suffered a fraction of what Lady Catherine could unleash, they could all laugh at her absurdity, though Elizabeth noted that her mother was more than a little astonished at it all.
“Do you have some other explanation?” was Mr. Bennet’s mild query.
“As it happens, I do,” replied Mr. Darcy.
“My mother was a quiet woman, though firm when the occasion demanded it.
As Lady Catherine is a force of nature, my mother was not in the habit of contradicting her, knowing that it would lead to an argument—it was for that reason I declined to acquaint Lady Catherine with my feelings on the subject.
“I suspect there was a conversation between them. My mother did not oppose Lady Catherine’s designs, and the lady took it as an agreement. By now, more than twenty years later, Lady Catherine only remembers the event from her perspective, convincing herself that my mother agreed with her.”
“Yes, I can see how that would make sense—Lady Catherine appears the sort of woman who believes whatever she wishes to believe.”
“You have no idea, Mr. Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
Mr. Bennet nodded, then addressed Mr. Darcy again. “With all this, I must suppose that your tardiness is because the lady learned of a threat to her designs.”
“You are not incorrect,” replied Mr. Darcy.
The gentleman appeared uncomfortable, but he did not hesitate to speak.
“Seeing Lady Catherine enraged about my cousin’s intention to defy her, I knew that her anger at my ‘betrayal’ would eclipse it tenfold.
Thus, I decided to declaim all interest in her daughter when she was already furious rather than waiting to provoke her again. ”
“You sought to achieve two aims at once,” said Mr. Bennet. He appeared almost gleeful at the absurdity of it all. “You might have considered better—if she was in a worse state than she was when she left Longbourn, she might have suffered apoplexy.”
“The thought had occurred to me, too,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Though I would not wish harm on my aunt, her silence would be welcome.”
“Aye, it would at that.”
“What do you suppose she will do now?” ventured Mrs. Bennet.
“She declared her intention to approach my father,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam. “Unfortunately, he is in Derbyshire, so if she means to hold to her purpose, we shall not see her for the next four or five days.”
“Do you suppose she will find a sympathetic ear?”
“I do not suppose it.” Colonel Fitzwilliam’s tone was firm and allowed for no uncertainty.
“Father has no control over Darcy, and he knows it. While he could exert control over me, he would not, and my mother would not endure it if he tried. The most Lady Catherine will receive from him is a warning not to insert herself into our affairs and perhaps a private conversation between us to ensure we know what we want.”
Mr. Bennet shook his head. “This business of associating with the highest members of society is vexing, sir. I must wonder if it is at all worth it.”
Mr. Darcy appeared worried, though Colonel Fitzwilliam only grinned. “Perhaps it is not. However, I hope you will surrender to your daughter’s wishes on the subject, Mr. Bennet.”
“Oh, of course, we welcome you, Colonel Fitzwilliam!” exclaimed Mrs. Bennet, put out with her husband’s apparent betrayal. “Jane welcomes you—that is all that matters.”
“I do,” said Jane.
“Then I suppose I have no choice but to endure it.” Mr. Bennet turned to Mr. Darcy, the light of mischief in his eyes. “And what of you, sir? Did your confession to your aunt spring from more than a desire to avoid some hypothetical future argument?”
“The future argument was not conjecture so much as a certainty. Yet you are not incorrect—I judge it early for the sort of discussion you are implying, but I am not disinterested.”
“That is curious, sir,” said Mr. Bennet, his lips now twitching in amusement, “for as I understood it, you did not . . . admire so much then as you do now. How can you account for it?”
While Mrs. Bennet looked on with understanding approaching terror, the rest of the company showed varying degrees of amusement, curiosity, or anticipation. Elizabeth was no less interested to hear his response than her family, and Mr. Darcy did not hesitate to explain himself.
“There were several reasons for my behavior in the autumn, but the night in question arose from annoyance with Bingley and a failure to apprehend the worth of what he was proposing. Even before the end of the evening, I understood my colossal error in judgment.”
“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed Lydia, never one to remain silent for long, “do you now suggest that you admire Lizzy after declaring she was not handsome enough to tempt you?”
“Lydia!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “It is not proper to ask such things!”
“Lizzy is correct, Lydia,” said Mr. Bennet. “We have pushed propriety enough. Now I suspect it is best to allow Mr. Darcy’s actions to speak for him.”
Though the girl sulked, she did not gainsay her father. Elizabeth noticed that her focus appeared fixed on Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, but so long as she remained silent, Elizabeth was content.
As Colonel Fitzwilliam settled in to speak with Jane, Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth.
Mrs. Bennet offered the invitation for dinner that her husband had suggested, and Colonel Fitzwilliam accepted it on his cousin’s behalf.
Then she departed to speak to Mrs. Hill, and Elizabeth turned her attention to Mr. Darcy.
“That was most curious, Mr. Darcy,” said she before the gentleman could say anything. “I had not thought you would be so open.”
Mr. Darcy shrugged. “Other than perhaps your youngest sisters, I judged the truth was not unknown to your family.”
“No, I suppose it was not,” said Elizabeth, regarding those sisters as they leaned their heads together in quiet consultation. “The question is, Mr. Darcy, how open you wish to be. It will not take much for it to come to the attention of Meryton’s gossips.”
A snort interrupted their conversation—Elizabeth turned to Mary, who was sitting nearby, and her sister did not hesitate to speak.
“Lizzy, you know our mother better than this. Now that she has a suspicion, she will spread it around the community without delay.”