Chapter 10
Drawing Room
Longbourn
The drawing room was full of female Bennets, along with Miss Darcy, Mrs. Annesley, and Mr. Bingley. The addition of four more unexpected guests from Kent made the room rather crowded.
Elizabeth and Darcy stepped into the room arm in arm to find Lady Catherine, seated in the most comfortable chair in the room, declaiming in her usual strident tones. “Your claim of a courtship is absurd, because Darcy is engaged to my daughter. I demand that you tell me ... Darcy! There you are! Where have you been? And why are you with that … that woman?”
Elizabeth, glancing around, noted that along with her family and friends, Miss de Bourgh was accompanied by her companion, Mrs. Jenkinson, while the Bennets’ cousin, Mr. Collins, was present as well, with the ladies sitting and the rector standing near a window looking unhappy.
“I was walking with Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said coolly. “Lady Catherine, what are you doing here?”
The woman stood up, back ramrod straight, and stalked over to her nephew, her eyes narrowed with anger. “Is it true then, Nephew? Is it true that you have been drawn in by the arts and allurements of this woman … nay, this trollop…”
“You will be silent,” Darcy shouted so loudly that everyone in the room gasped in unison. “You will not speak of Miss Elizabeth with disrespect!”
“Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Collins exclaimed, taking a few steps closer, “I do beg you to consider your situation in life, along with your obligation to Miss de Bourgh. It is truly dreadful that my cousin Elizabeth has behaved in such a way, well, she is indeed a wanton hussy to cause you to forget…”
The clergyman’s speech was cut off when Darcy punched Collins square in the face, causing the man to fall heavily on the floor with a cry of pain and astonishment.
“Darcy!” Lady Catherine screeched in a far higher tone than was normal for her. “How dare you?”
“How dare I?” her nephew repeated in a calm and strangely intimidating tone, taking a menacing step closer to his aunt in order to better loom over her. “How dare you come here and insult Miss Elizabeth in such a way? If you were not a woman and my near relation, I would strike you as well!”
Lady Catherine’s icy blue eyes flared wide, and she staggered back a step.
“Darcy,” she cried shrilly. “You must be mad! You know you are engaged to Anne!”
“I am not,” Darcy said and turned toward his cousin, who was staring at him. “Anne, I am sorry I never said this before, but let me speak plainly. I do not wish to marry you. I will never marry you.”
“Oh, Nephew,” Lady Catherine moaned. “How can you do such a thing?”
“Indeed, sir,” Collins quavered, having picked himself up off the floor, though he kept a safe distance from Darcy’s large fists. “You owe it to your cousin, the most beautiful flower in all of Kent, to fulfill your commitment…”
“There was never any commitment,” Anne de Bourgh announced, suddenly rising to her feet. “I know my mother has spoken, for many years, of our betrothal, but obviously if you wished to marry me, Darcy, you would have offered long ago.”
“Anne!” Lady Catherine protested. “You know perfectly well that Darcy has merely been waiting for your health to improve.”
“Well, if that were true, he will be waiting forever,” Anne said with a sad smile. “I will never be strong enough to act as mistress of Pemberley or to bear a child. No, Darcy and I will never wed, and if he and Miss Elizabeth choose to marry, I am confident they will be happy together.”
This provoked a genuine howl from Lady Catherine, one of such fury that Mrs. Bennet, sitting nearby, cringed. At this moment, Mr. Bennet entered the room, his brow furrowed.
“What is the meaning of this ridiculous noise?” he demanded.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet cried, rising to her feet. “It is Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and she says that her nephew is engaged to her daughter, Miss Anne de Bough, but Miss de Bourgh says she is not, and Mr. Darcy has struck Mr. Collins, who will throw us out of the house when before you are cold in the grave, and…”
“Thank you, Mrs. Bennet,” her husband interrupted. “My dear, I believe you and our daughters, and perhaps Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley, should leave so that I may speak with Lady Catherine and her retinue. Mr. Bingley, would you be willing to escort the ladies elsewhere?”
“As for that, sir,” Bingley said, his jaw set, “I would prefer to stay. Lady Catherine’s attacks against Miss Elizabeth are against me as well, as I will soon be united in marriage with Jane.”
“As you like,” Bennet agreed with an approving nod. “Elizabeth, please take your mother and sisters, along with Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley, to the east sitting room.”
Elizabeth looked at Darcy, who smiled at her, and nodded. “Of course, Papa. Come along.”
***
Darcy watched his beloved leave the room, with Georgiana, looking frightened, at her side, followed by the other Bennet ladies and Mrs. Annesley. He waited until the door was closed before turning on his heel to glare at his aunt as Lady Catherine made her deliberate way to her chair and lowered herself onto it.
“Darcy, do sit down,” she ordered. “We must speak seriously of this matter.”
“I have not been invited to sit down, so I will stand,” Darcy replied coldly.
Bennet chuckled and said, “I far prefer you to your aunt. Please do take your seats, all of you.”
Everyone did so, with Bingley and Darcy settling on a settee, Lady Catherine in her own wingbacked chair, Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson side-by-side on a loveseat, and Mr. Bennet and Mr. Collins on separate chairs near the cold fireplace.
“Mr. Collins,” Bennet said once everyone had settled. “Why are you here? And why is your cheek turning purple?”
Collins, who had deliberately chosen a position as far as possible from Darcy, turned a resentful glare on that gentleman. “I am here to support my esteemed patroness, Lady Catherine, and most regrettably, Mr. Darcy went so far as to strike me when I remonstrated with him.”
“You called Miss Elizabeth a wanton hussy, Mr. Collins,” Darcy grated out. “Do not think I will ever, ever forget that.”
Mr. Bennet, who had been listening with interest, now turned a furious stare on his heir, who flinched in fear.
“Mr. Collins,” Bennet said, leaning forward, his eyes narrowed with anger. “You will leave now, and you will not be permitted to cross the threshold of this house until after I am dead.”
“He will do no such thing,” Lady Catherine declared. “Mr. Collins is your heir, and I am Darcy’s aunt and almost his nearest relation. Neither of us will leave until my nephew assures me that he will lay aside this absurd relationship with your daughter and become formally engaged to mine.”
Darcy opened his mouth in protest, only to close it when his host lifted a staying hand toward him.
Seconds ticked by – long, uncomfortable seconds – and then Bennet rose to his feet, walked over to the door, and opened it.
“Simmons,” he said, “please summon Tom and Tony from the stables and tell them to come to the drawing room.”
“Yes, sir,” the voice of the butler replied. “Shall they clean up a bit first, sir?”
“No. If Mr. Collins finds himself smelling of horse dung when he is thrown from the house, that will be his problem.”
Darcy, startled, chuckled as his gaze shifted to the parson, who looked horrified.
“Lady Catherine,” the plump clergyman said, “surely you will not permit them to throw me from this very house?”
“Mr. Collins will stay,” the lady said, fixing a cold eye on Bennet. “I insist.”
“You may insist all you like, but it is not for you to decide, my lady,” Bennet replied drily. “I am master of Longbourn, not you, and as long as I live, I decide who stays and who goes.”
Lady Catherine’s bonnet, decorated with two ostrich feathers, trembled in her outrage. “Mr. Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am Darcy’s aunt, along with being both daughter and sister of an earl. My daughter and my nephew are formed for each other. They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line; and, on the father’s, from respectable, honorable, and ancient, though untitled, families. Their fortune on both sides is splendid. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses; and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune?! Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall not be!”
“That is quite enough, Madame,” Bennet said, rising to his feet. “I order you to leave as well.”
“I will not! Mr. Bennet, I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose; nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person’s whims. I have not been in the habit of brooking disappointment.”
The door opened at this moment to reveal two hulking young men, dressed in homespun, whose persons most definitely emitted the smell of cow.
“Tom, Tony,” Bennet said, “kindly escort Mr. Collins out of the house and after that, you can return and do the same for Lady Catherine.”
Collins squeaked in horror while Lady Catherine jerked in astonishment. “You would not dare, Mr. Bennet!”
“I believe he would, Aunt,” Darcy retorted, “but there is no need to require extra work for Tom and Tony. Bingley, would you be kind enough to assist me in escorting my aunt out of the house?”
“With pleasure,” Bingley said, rising to his feet.
The next few minutes were noisy, as Collins was hauled, protesting vigorously, out of Longbourn and onto the gravel driveway by the two stout servants. Lady Catherine, screeching and howling, was deposited next to him by Darcy and his friend, whereupon the gentlemen retreated into Longbourn and locked the door, and the manservants made their cheerful way back to the stables, having thoroughly enjoyed this alteration from their usual duties.
It was only when Darcy returned to the drawing room that he realized he had, in the midst of his quarrel with his aunt, entirely forgotten about his cousin. Fortunately, she was not distressed in the least about this oversight.
“Darcy,” Anne said, and then turned toward Bingley, “or perhaps I should talk to you, Mr. Bingley. I do not wish to return to Kent with my mother and was wondering whether Mrs. Jenkinson and I could, perhaps, beg a bedchamber at Netherfield Hall tonight while we consider the future?”
Darcy blinked at his cousin and then looked to his friend, whose countenance, since Lady Catherine had been thrown bodily from the house, was now relaxed into its normal cheer.
“Of course,” Bingley said. “Indeed, I would be very pleased to have you stay until my wedding if you like, Miss de Bourgh.”
Anne turned toward her companion and something silent passed between them.
“Thank you, Mr. Bingley,” she said, smiling for the first time since Darcy had laid eyes on her today. “We would enjoy that very much.”