Chapter 12 #5
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes at her and did not reply for an uncomfortably long time.
“I am able to count on one hand the individuals who are unafraid to speak plainly to me. You are among them. I abhor impertinence, but honesty and fortitude are qualities of which I can approve. I expect that is why Darcy admires you. Growing up with me as almost his closest relative has taught him to esteem strong women. You, no doubt, remind him of me.”
There was no response to that, but as usual, her ladyship required none. “You also spoke in defence of my daughter.”
Elizabeth had not been prepared for such an arsenal of topics and was relieved to espy the gatehouse from the window, for it signalled an imminent end to the startling interview. “I did.”
Her ladyship grunted disdainfully. “I give you credit for that, though I cannot account for why you did it. You cannot have any regard for her, or you would not have poached her husband.”
Elizabeth schooled herself to restraint.
Truly, from Darcy’s first proposal to this thorny olive branch, her new family had the most extraordinary gift for delivering insulting compliments.
“Perhaps your daughter and I are not the best of friends, but I should not like it if rumours that arose as a result of our union were to injure anybody in this family and neither would Darcy. Besides, I happen to think it a very fine thing that Mrs Montgomery will be mother to Master Jonathan.”
Again, Lady Catherine peered overlong at her before replying. At length, she lifted her chin and sniffed. “You are correct. It is your fault such rumours exist. It is only fitting that you exert yourself to quash them.”
“And what of the many rumours about me?” Elizabeth replied, unable to keep the exasperation from her tone. “Will you exert yourself to quash those?”
“When I remarked upon your willingness to challenge me, I did not mean it to be taken as an invitation to do it more often! Do not imagine you can dress up your insolence as courage and expect me to tolerate it.”
“It is neither courage nor insolence that motivates me to speak thus, but my affection for Darcy. Can you not see how your willingness to heed every rumour about me is wounding him? And to what end? Your fears that I might make him a poor wife are irrelevant now. We are already wed!”
“They are not irrelevant. Your marriage does not mean the rest of his family should give up caring about him!”
“That is not wha—”
“I promised my sister I would take care of her children. If Darcy had married Anne, they would both have been set up forever, as would Miss Darcy. But he would marry you. I have salvaged my daughter’s future, but his and his sister’s could not be more uncertain.
It is unlikely I shall live out another year, and what guarantee have I that they will not end up ridiculed and despised the whole world over once I am gone? My fears could not be more relevant!”
Elizabeth rubbed her temple. “Madam, I comprehend your attachment to him—indeed, it is very touching—but I am his wife. I cannot see how turning the world against me will help him.”
“This is not to be borne! I shall not be made to account for myself to you!”” Her pique abruptly gave way to a convulsive, barking cough that still had not passed when the carriage stopped before the house.
Elizabeth pressed her own, fresh handkerchief into Lady Catherine’s hand, and when a footman opened the door, instructed him to close it again.
“Forgive me,” she said softly once her ladyship had finally quieted.
A burgeoning suspicion that she had ruined her only remaining chance to win her over had dispelled much of her anger.
“I meant no disrespect. Only…Lady Catherine, you may very well never approve of me, but I beg you would accept that Darcy does and cease vilifying him for it. Trust him that the rumours about me are untrue. Visit us at Pemberley and see for yourself how well we do. Let us convince you we shall not give the world cause to despise us. His happiness would be complete if you would only allow this rift to be mended before it is too late.”
Her ladyship took several shallow breaths and spoke slowly as though to prevent a relapse. “If nothing else, your tenacity has convinced me your regard for him is sincere. There can be no other possible advantage to opposing me on every subject.”
“My regard for him is—I believe you will tire of hearing me say how dearly I love him long before I tire of saying it.”
Lady Catherine regarded her strangely. “I accept your invitation.” She shuffled forward in her seat and rapped on the window. “I shall visit Pemberley at Christmas.” The door was opened, and she climbed out.
Elizabeth followed her with mixed feelings. She knew not which was worse: an unresolved schism between nephew and aunt or another prolonged stay under the same roof together.
“And in the meantime,” Lady Catherine said as soon as Elizabeth’s feet touched the ground, “try eating ginger.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“It will aid with the biliousness.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh! How did you know?”
Lady Catherine sighed impatiently. “I may have but one living daughter, but I have been with child more times than I care to recount. I am aware of the signs.”
“I see. Thank you.”
“You must take care, Mrs Darcy. That is my great-niece or nephew. Your responsibilities to this family increase by the moment!”
In accordance with Elizabeth’s expectations, Lady Catherine’s word was the last. She walked away into the house.
“Elizabeth, are you well?”
She span around at Darcy’s anxious voice in time to see him march onto the drive from the lane. “My word! Did you run the entire way?”
“It felt like it!” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, emerging from the same point a moment later.
“Are you well?” Darcy repeated. “She has not distressed you?”
“I am well. Somewhat surprised but perfectly well, I thank you.”
This appeased him but little, and he continued to scrutinise her countenance with the utmost concern. “What was said?”
“Let us go inside, and I shall relay it all.”
“That will not do,” Fitzwilliam said, laughing. “He passed the walk dreaming up every rum motive conceivable for my aunt to wish to talk to you alone. You must put him out of his misery and assure him nothing dreadful occurred.”
Elizabeth grimaced. “That is debatable.”
“Why?” Darcy demanded. “What has occurred?”
She looked up at him with playful contrition. “I seem to have invited her to Pemberley for Christmas.”
Rosings Park
12th October
To Lady Ashby,
You have been industrious in your endeavours to unearth and report Mrs Darcy’s failings to me.
A week in her company has disproved the majority of your information, calling into question your purpose, which, it can only be presumed, was to recommend yourself to me by undervaluing her.
You are sorely mistaken if you believe such despicable schemes could ever win you my good opinion.
Your information, in substantiating my greatest fears, has afforded me three months of the most painful and, I now discover, wholly unwarranted anguish, which has unquestionably contributed to my decline in health.
You have shown yourself to be petty and vindictive without any of the probity exhibited by she whom you have so assiduously maligned.
You have sunk beyond redemption in my estimation.
Do not presume to write to me again. If I discover you have dared to engage in any further idle talk pertaining to any member of this family, I shall be extremely angry and shall act accordingly.
When next our paths cross, I expect to discover your loyalty and discretion vastly improved.
Should you require guidance in the endeavour, you may look to Mrs Darcy for illustration.
Tell my nephew I am seriously displeased.
Lady C. de Bourgh
Tuesday 13th October 1812, London
“There you are!” Elizabeth said when Darcy entered the parlour. She set her book aside and reached a hand towards him. “Where have you been?”
He bent to kiss her hand. She was curled up on the sofa, and he sat down next to her feet, placing his hand on her stockinged ankle. “I called on Bingley.”
“He is in Town?”
He nodded, caressing her calf. Bingley’s calling card had been awaiting him when they returned the previous day, but he had wished to discover the purpose of his friend’s visit before troubling Elizabeth with it, lest it signified further antagonism from her sister.
“He accompanied Miss Bingley to Farley House to attend her sister as she nears her confinement, though I suspect he simply does not wish to be at Netherfield. Relations are strained, I understand.”
Elizabeth’s brow contracted. “Because of my quarrel with Jane?”
He nodded again.
“I am sorry to hear that. Unpleasant though it was, it ought not to come between them.”
“How could it not? Any man’s esteem would be damaged by such a display of meanness.”
“He will have to forgive her eventually. They cannot become estranged over an argument that is not even their own.”
“You know how he dislikes disputes. I do not believe he knows how to resolve it—and before you enquire, no, I did not advise him on the matter.”
She grinned at him. “In this instance, a little advice might have been forgiven.”
“Oh, no! It is for him to take his wife in hand, not me, and so I told him.”
Some part of that amused her, for she raised a satirical eyebrow. “And what said he to that?”
“He was absurdly affronted and asked if that is how I treat you.”
“And how did you answer?”
“I laughed. I could no more control you than I could control the weather.”