Chapter 20
East Sitting Room
Rosings
A Week Later
Lady Catherine paced up and down in the east sitting room of Rosings.
Ordinarily, she would take the time to admire the gold and red pattern underneath her feet. The Oriental carpet which decorated the floor was a new one, purchased but three weeks previously, and was both expensive and luxurious.
Now, however…
“I cannot believe that Darcy could be so lost to honor that he would take up with a … with a … strumpet!”
George Wickham, who was standing near the fire, his arms locked behind him, his back straight, said carefully, “I have met Elizabeth Bennet, and she is very pretty, with a great deal of charm and vivacity. Darcy works hard in his role as master of Pemberley, and I fear that … well, her arts and allurements may have drawn him in quite apart from his own reason.”
Lady Catherine turned a glowering look on her guest and said, “I am surprised to hear you say that, Mr. Wickham. I understood that you and Darcy are not on good terms.”
Wickham spread his hands out and said, “My lady, I assure you that I want only what is best for Darcy, for Miss Darcy, and for Pemberley. You are correct that Darcy and I have not been on particularly good terms for some years, but I hope that is merely because our temperaments are so very different. I will always care for Pemberley and the Darcy family. I owe old Mr. Darcy everything, you know, and grieve that his only son is so polluting the Darcy name by….”
He trailed off dramatically, and Lady Catherine turned a thoughtful eye on the lieutenant.
He was a fine-looking young man, with an excellent figure and handsome face, and his expression was one of grave concern.
She was not the sort of woman who would usually trust a steward’s son over her own nephew, but if Wickham was right and that woman was at Pemberley, then it meant her nephew had interfered with Mr. Collins’s engagement and somehow must be emotionally tied to the girl!
She knew everything about the matter of the engagement, of course.
Mr. Collins had been engaged to the girl, and Mr. Bennet sent a letter that his daughter had been afflicted by scarlet fever and was no longer an appropriate bride for her parson.
She had been annoyed since Mr. Collins ought to take a wife, and soon, and choosing one of his poverty-stricken cousins would have been a reasonable and righteous act.
But she had thought that Mr. Bennet was being honorable when he confessed that his daughter was too ill to serve as the mistress of the Hunsford parsonage, and now…
Now it seemed that there were wheels within wheels, that there was some great plot afoot to separate Darcy from the heiress of Rosings, her daughter Anne.
She began pacing again, thinking furiously.
According to Wickham, Mrs. Gregson was involved in the matter, and Lady Catherine remembered Darcy’s father’s aunt very well!
The woman had eschewed a marriage to a wealthy gentleman in favor of a mere parson, and was just the sort of person to take in a vagabond.
It was all very confusing. Her natural desire was to believe that Wickham was lying, but there was something bizarre about the story of Elizabeth Bennet, and if that harpy had somehow sunken her claws into Darcy, well, that was not to be borne!
***
Library
Longbourn
Noon
Friday, 14th February 1812
How, Thomas Bennet thought in disbelief, could this be happening?
The day had started out auspiciously, with Mrs. Bennet announcing over breakfast her intention to take the three younger girls over to Netherfield to visit Jane.
She did not anticipate returning until after dinner, and Mr. Bennet would have to take his nuncheon and his dinner alone.
This plan had suited the master of the house right down to the ground, and he had encouraged his wife in her plans.
He had seen his wife and tiresome daughters out of the house relatively promptly after breakfast. Lydia, of course, had been forced to search her messy room in hopes of finding her favorite bonnet, and then Kitty had lost her reticule for a few minutes, and then Mrs. Bennet had remembered halfway down the carriage lane that she had meant to take the cherry pie over to Netherfield with them, which necessitated turning the carriage around and returning.
Finally, after all of these annoying but not entirely unexpected false starts, the Bennet ladies were away, and Mr. Bennet had retired comfortably to his library with the pleasurable anticipation of a quiet day unbothered by further interruptions.
Which was why he had been so irritated to receive belligerent visitors, who refused to politely acknowledge that he was not at home and go away, but who insisted, stridently, on seeing him.
But it was the identity of those visitors that truly astonished him.
He had hoped never to see the tedious Mr. Collins again and had certainly never expected to be subjected to the vaunted wisdom and piercing tones of the inimitable Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Nor could he, in his wildest dreams, have imagined the tidings they had brought with them, that Elizabeth was currently dwelling in the lap of luxury at Pemberley, the home of the proud Fitzwilliam Darcy.
For a moment, he had hoped it was merely a passing, incorrect rumor, but no, Lady Catherine did not seem the kind of woman to travel all the way from Kent just for a silly lark, and her imperious declaration had been very confident.
For a single instant, he could sympathize with his wife's incessant complaints about her nerves.
For the first time in his life, Bennet felt rather faint.
“It seems quite impossible,” he said feebly, clutching the arms of his chair for dear life.
Lady Catherine, who had taken the seat closest to the fire, sat up straighter in her chair and said, “Nonetheless, it is true! Come now, Mr. Bennet, surely you are not claiming that were unaware of your own daughter’s location?”
Bennet licked his lips and said, “I thought she was in London with Mrs. Gregson.”
Mr. Collins, who was standing a few feet away from Lady Catherine, now burst into speech.
“Cousin, I confess to being incredulous and horrified by your behavior. Your second daughter was pledged to me in marriage, and instead of following through with that pledge, you obviously decided that Mr. Darcy would be a better lover and arranged for her to spend time with Darcy’s great-aunt, Mrs. Gregson.
We know that my Cousin Elizabeth was never ill, and… ”
“Mrs. Gregson is Darcy’s great-aunt?” Bennet cried out in disbelief, and for a moment, his vision wibbled and wobbled.
Lady and rector exchanged glances, and Lady Catherine leaned forward and glared into her host’s face. “It seems you know absolutely nothing about Miss Bennet’s actions.”
Mr. Bennet waited until he could see clearly again and leaned back against his chair.
“She took flight rather than marry Mr. Collins,” he confessed quietly. “For the sake of my family’s honor, I have been keeping the situation quiet, but yes, she ran away to London only two days after you offered for her hand in marriage.”
“Ran away?” the parson demanded, his eyes wide, his expression outraged. “Why?”
Bennet huffed and said, “Because she is an unreasonable and headstrong girl. I made a great mistake in permitting her to read novels, for they filled her head with romantic notions. As you probably remember, Mr. Collins, she refused your offer of marriage.”
“I do, of course,” Collins said, “but surely she was merely teasing!”
“She was not, but both Mrs. Bennet and I knew it to be a wonderful match, and we informed her that she would need to accept you or face the consequences. She chose to run away instead, but I had no idea that she was running to … I do not understand this at all.”
Lady Catherine snarled softly and said, “Mr. Bennet, how could this possibly be true? I called at Mrs. Gregson’s house on Half Moon Street last night and a maid confirmed that a Miss Wantage had been living there for some weeks.
Her description matches Miss Bennet’s perfectly, and your daughter was in the best of health.
Given that you know Mrs. Gregson to be your daughter’s hostess, how… ”
“My eldest daughter Jane is married to a Mr. Bingley,” Bennet interrupted. “Bingley’s sisters met Elizabeth and Mrs. Gregson at Hookham’s Library some weeks ago, and only then did I learn the lady’s name. I know nothing more.”
He frowned and shook his head slowly. “Are you absolutely certain my daughter is at Pemberley? She despises Darcy, and I cannot imagine…”
“Despises him?” Lady Catherine demanded in an outraged tone. “What do you mean?”
He sighed and said, “They had an unfortunate first encounter, but…”
He sighed again and said gloomily, “If this gets out, it will destroy our family’s reputation.”
Lady Catherine’s nostrils flared wide, and she snapped, “That does not matter in the least! What matters is that your trollop of a daughter has drawn my nephew into an illicit relationship, and I will not stand for it! From their births, my daughter and nephew have been designed for one another. I will not permit this union, which is desired by every voice in their respective houses, to be prevented by the upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune! Do you understand me, Mr. Bennet?”