Chapter 29 #2
Once the gentleman’s carriage had passed through Longbourn’s gates, Darcy made his way back inside.
The Bennets had also received calls from Mrs Goulding, Mrs Harrington, and Mrs Long.
While none of these fickle friends had offered ringing endorsements of Lydia’s present circumstances, they’d established a fragile accord with the Bennets, which was the best Darcy could hope for.
Upon entering the drawing room, Darcy requested a private audience with Mr Bennet, but the older gentleman declined.
“There isn’t the least need, Mr Darcy. I’m well aware of the debt I owe to you and Mr Bingley, and I give my hearty consent to your betrothal with Lizzy.”
Calamity ensued.
The ladies jumped to their feet, squealing with delight “Oh, happy day!” Mrs Bennet said in high alt. “What an excellent father you have, my dear girls.”
Elizabeth rushed to embrace her father. “Thank you, Papa,” she said, kissing his forehead, while Charles clapped Darcy’s back.
“Well done, Darcy.”
Relieved that he had finally secured his enchantress, he shook hands with everyone and accepted their enthusiastic felicitations with the greatest humility.
“Perhaps we might call on the parsonage,” Jane said, once order had been restored.
“Quite right,” Charles said. “We ought not to delay the banns.”
Eager for any excuse to get Elizabeth out of the house, Darcy agreed.
The moment Charles’s carriage had reached the lane, Darcy abandoned all sense of propriety, pulled Elizabeth onto his lap and gave his full attention to her lips. They reached the parsonage entirely too quickly, in his opinion, and he reluctantly released her.
After both couples had alighted, Charles instructed his driver to return to Longbourn. “It’s a fine day, and once we’ve finished our business with the vicar, we shall enjoy a leisurely stroll back to the house.”
“A capital idea,” Darcy said, in full agreement with this excellent suggestion, planning to use that time with his lady love to his best advantage.
When Darcy returned to Longbourn, an unwelcomed surprise awaited in the drawing room.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh rapped her cane on the carpet. “There you are, Darcy. You’ve been keeping me waiting this past hour or more.”
Despite his embarrassment, Darcy bowed to his formidable aunt. “I wasn’t expecting you, Aunt Catherine.” He was about to make introductions, but she abruptly forestalled him.
“I must speak with you immediately.”
Darcy was horrified as she laid hands on him and attempted to push him out of the parlour, as the Bennets looked on with some confusion.
“You can’t barge into this house and make demands, madam.”
She set her jaw and glared at him. “In private.”
“You may use the sitting parlour, my lady, if you please,” Mrs Bennet said in a meek voice.
Mortified by his aunt’s reprehensible conduct, he led her to the small room and waited for her to voice her complaints.
“I’ve had a report of a most alarming nature, and I came at once to make my sentiments known. Are you, or are you not, courting a daughter of this house?”
“We are now betrothed, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” Darcy could well imagine that her sycophantic parson must have informed her of the courtship. The Lucases had undoubtedly spread the word via post.
She huffed with indignation. “I can scarcely believe that you would dishonour your family and your own sainted mother in this scandalous manner. You have been intended for Anne since the moment of her birth. What have you to say for yourself?”
Darcy was well acquainted with this farcical notion, which she had promoted since his university days. “Only that you have travelled a great distance for no purpose. I intend to marry Miss Elizabeth Bennet, so you may as well accustom yourself to the idea.”
Her eyes flared with anger. “Then I will speak to her directly and demand that she release you from this ill-begotten engagement.”
Although not surprised by his aunt’s venom, he wouldn’t allow her to browbeat Elizabeth. “If you suppose that this disgraceful spectacle will result in my eventual betrothal to Anne, you are sorely mistaken. I shall marry the woman of my choice, not yours. You have wasted your time.”
Now in the doorway, Lady Catherine’s voice echoed through the house. “I demand to speak with Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth came forward and made her curtsy. “I am Elizabeth.”
“This engagement must not proceed,” her ladyship said in a stern tone. “No woman of inferior birth may dare to hold any claim on my nephew. I shall not leave until I am assured that you have released him.” She punctuated her demand by rapping her walking stick on the floor.
“Then I shall have a bed chamber prepared for you, and a place set at the supper table, my lady, for I shall never renounce him.”
Darcy had never been prouder of his enchanting, but fearless fiancée. “Aunt Catherine, surely you must now give up this scheme.”
Undeterred, his aunt glared at Elizabeth. “Do you suppose that I am unaware of your sister’s scandalous elopement with George Wickham, the son of a steward? Any connection to this family will disgrace my nephew in the eyes of the world.”
Elizabeth offered an indulgent smile. “If you’re familiar with that event, then you must also know that it was your nephew who retrieved my dear sister from Wickham. Don’t you wonder why Mr Darcy would go to so much trouble, my lady?”
Now speechless, Lady Catherine regarded him with astonishment.
Darcy reached for Elizabeth’s hand. “I did it for Elizabeth, Aunt Catherine, because I couldn’t bear for her to be harmed by my father’s disgraceful godson.”
Aunt Catherine waved her hand in dismissal. “Darcy, my dear boy, you cannot be thinking clearly. This is merely an infatuation. Surely, if you go through with this marriage, you will be universally denounced. The family will never receive you, or even mention your name.”
“Then I’ll bid you a fond farewell, Aunt Catherine,” he said, stepping towards her. “Come take my arm and allow me to escort you to your carriage. You have overstayed your welcome and must be on your way home.”
She refused his arm and swept past him. “You’ll regret disobliging me, Darcy, and so I warn you. I shall carry my point to my brother, and then you’ll be very sorry, indeed.” She stormed out of the house in a flurry of outrage and spite.
Darcy followed her outside, and when she reached her waiting conveyance, she begrudgingly accepted his assistance to board with a fierce scowl. Once she was seated, he signalled to the postillion to ride on, and watched the carriage pass through the gates.
Elizabeth awaited him on the front steps. “Our relations can be a bit unpredictable, can’t they?” she said with a teasing smirk.
“To put it mildly,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “I’ll make my apologies to your parents, and then we’ll all laugh about it, and go on as we were.”
“My father delights in the absurd, and he’ll certainly agree that her ladyship was vastly entertaining,” she said. “What’s more, he now understands who holds the greatest influence over his tiresome heir.”
***
Dear Mr Darcy,
Having received your very affecting letter citing one parable, I must remind you of another.
When the prodigal son returned home after a long absence, his father forgave him and welcomed him home with a grand feast. However, my cousin chose to cast his only heir out of his house and forbid me from ever returning during his lifetime.
Where is this forgiveness you speak of? Should we not all benefit from the compassion and mercy the Good Shepherd has taught us?
Furthermore, you must allow me to caution you against entering into an alliance with a daughter of that scandalous house.
Her ladyship would never sanction such a disgraceful match.
When one shameless daughter has lost all sense of decency, her sisters’ reputations are forever tarnished in the eyes of the world.
However, as you are well aware, Miss de Bourgh’s character is unassailable, and she patiently awaits the day when you will call on Rosings and beg for the honour of her hand.
Yours, respectfully,
William Collins