Chapter 17 #2
“Have you nothing to say?”
“Oh, I am certain I have much to say, but my wife and daughter have said quite enough. Begone from this house, madam,” Mr Bennet said, for once not sardonic but in earnest.
As Lady Catherine stalked from the house, the Bennets had scarcely begun to recover from her stormy departure when another coach swept into view.
Elizabeth recognised it at once. Her breath caught, and without a word she hurried from the room and down the front steps, her heart quickening at the thought of seeing Mr Darcy again.
She was not alone in that recognition. Lady Catherine, having just turned back towards her own carriage, stiffened at the sight. Cane in hand, she wheeled about and strode across the gravel, clearly resolved to confront the newcomer before he could reach the house.
The coach drew up sharply, and before the step could be lowered, Darcy leapt down, having evidently seen both his aunt advancing upon him and Elizabeth hurrying from the doorway. His gaze fixed first upon Lady Catherine, his expression hardening as he spoke, his voice edged with controlled anger.
“Aunt—what are you doing here at Longbourn?”
Lady Catherine drew herself up, her cheeks blotched with fury.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, I have come to prevent you from committing a scandalous folly! My rector informed me of your shocking denial of the engagement to my daughter—your destined bride! He even claimed you called me delusional! When Mr Collins returned on Saturday, full of tales of his humiliation and of your shameful attentions to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, I knew I must act. I will not stand idle while you destroy yourself and drag our family name into disgrace.”
She paused only long enough to draw breath. “Now that you are here, I insist you board my carriage. Your belongings may be sent after you, but you must come with me to Rosings immediately and marry your cousin.”
Darcy’s reply was low and unyielding. “Aunt, I have told you often enough that I will not marry Anne. I cannot imagine why you have come here—unless you believed Miss Elizabeth to be like one of your toadies, ready to submit to your commands. In that, you will undoubtedly have found her otherwise.”
He turned then towards Elizabeth, who had come to stand by his side. “Tell me, Miss Elizabeth—has she already spoken to you?” His mouth tightened as he added, “I see now that my relations have proved far worse than anything I might have feared from yours.”
Elizabeth arched a brow at him at his words but answered truthfully. “She has already been in the house. Fortunately, Mama learnt of our courtship earlier, so your aunt’s approach caused her no surprise.”
Before Darcy could respond to her comment, Lady Catherine cried out, “What is this nonsense about a courtship? Fitzwilliam, you cannot truly mean to attach yourself to any of the females in that house.” She gestured disdainfully towards Longbourn, her expression making plain her contempt.
“You must be out of your senses. Come with me to London at once. I shall take you to my brother, the earl, and we will decide what is to be done with you. If you are mad, then he will have you committed, and Anne and I shall bring Georgiana to live with us. We might even relocate to Pemberley for part of the year, so I may oversee matters there. I have always thought there was much I could accomplish, had I the wealth of Pemberley.”
Darcy scoffed, his disdain evident in his voice.
“Your words betray you, Aunt. You care nothing for my well-being—only for your own ambition and the power Pemberley might place in your hands. But you shall not have it. I have already spoken to my uncle of my intentions, and while he may prefer I marry within the ton, he respects my resolve to marry as I will. I need neither his permission nor yours to marry. Knowing this, he will not attempt to—”
“Silence!” Lady Catherine thundered, bringing her cane down with such force that it struck the stone and snapped, the report echoing across the courtyard.
She stood gripping the ornate head, a broken foot of the shaft still attached, while the rest clattered to the ground.
“I will hear no more of this insolence! You disgrace your family and defy your duty, and I will not allow it!”
Darcy did not so much as blink. “It is not your decision, Aunt, nor is it my uncle’s,” he replied, his voice cool and exact, stripped of all concession.
“My uncle has accepted that I have made my choice and recognises the futility of attempting to dissuade me. You are perfectly aware that my father never signed any contract binding me to Anne—he refused your demands for such an arrangement repeatedly and without hesitation.”
His gaze held hers a moment longer, implacable—then, with deliberate calm, he looked away.
Turning from his aunt, his eyes found Elizabeth and lingered there, steady and sure, reminding her and himself that they would fight together from now on.
Only then did he return his attention to Lady Catherine.
“I have told you this more than once. You have chosen to disregard my words just as you always have. That indulgence ends now.” His tone cooled further, each word measured and final.
“You will leave this estate at once. You will not importune me again, nor any member of my family—which now includes the Bennets.”
Darcy remained motionless, his expression carved into something cold and inexorable. He offered no bow, no acknowledgment of her rank or temper—only a steady, unflinching stare as she stood clutching the useless fragment of her cane, forced at last to reckon with his resolve.
Elizabeth stepped closer to his side and slipped her hand through his arm. Her touch was light, but her presence beside him was firm and resolute, a silent declaration of her allegiance.
Lady Catherine’s eyes blazed as she took in the sight of them together.
She drew herself to her full height, her breath quickening with fury.
“This is not the end of the matter,” she spat, her voice shaking with rage.
“Mark me, Fitzwilliam—you will repent of this folly, and when you do, you will find I was right all along.”
With that, she swept to her carriage, abandoning the shattered length of her cane upon the ground.
The door was slammed shut, and a sharp crack followed as she struck the ceiling with what remained of it, still clenched in her hand.
The horses surged forward at once, the coachman spurring them on to speed his formidable mistress from the scene.