Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
Leaving Georgiana with a promise to write as soon as he had secured Elizabeth’s acceptance of his proposal and Mr Bennet’s consent, Darcy travelled to Kent Monday morning.
He would not remain at Rosings long, but he was determined that he and Lady Catherine would understand each other fully before he departed.
Never again would either of them speak of her desire that he marry Anne or her insistence that his parents likewise wanted it.
If possible, he would forget the events of the past fortnight, apart from a few happy moments, walking with Elizabeth and knowing she returned his love most of all.
But there were others, such as Georgiana praising Elizabeth and her eagerness at the prospect of having her for a sister, or Lady Romsley’s decision to go to Hertfordshire to know Elizabeth better.
Darcy had long thought that his family would love her once they knew her, and his aunt had demonstrated that he was correct.
He would add Lord Romsley’s apology and that most of his relations were pleased for him and anticipated meeting the lady who had so thoroughly captured his heart.
But nothing will convince Lady Catherine to be reasonable.
I must prepare myself for that, he reflected as he gazed out of the carriage window during the drive to Kent.
As enraged as he was with her, under the ugly emotion lay sadness.
He accepted that today might mark the end of his connexion to his aunt.
For his mother’s sake, he regretted it; it might also cause uneasy moments with his other relations—Lord Romsley in particular—but there was no avoiding it.
And if the worst happens, the fault will be hers alone.
He was willing to overlook her recent horrible behaviour and even the cruel words she had said about Elizabeth—provided she apologise sincerely to her, him, and others, such as Bingley for dragging his family to Netherfield.
He doubted she would be willing to do so.
Having informed her to expect him, Lady Catherine and Anne were awaiting him in the formal, ornately decorated drawing room. Anne watched him warily; Lady Catherine triumphantly.
“You have come to your senses at last,” his aunt announced. “I knew you would. I suppose my brother performed his duty and told you it was past time that you did yours. He ought to have done so when we were in Hertfordshire rather than permit you to go to Derbyshire. If you did.”
Darcy remained standing, despite her indicating the chair she wished him to take, which was directly across from hers. “I said I was going to Pemberley and so I did. I am not and have never been a liar, madam, and I resent you implying otherwise.”
“You have behaved foolishly, nearly unforgivably, over this business with Elizabeth Bennet,” she said, almost as if that gave her permission to insult him. “However, Anne and I shall forget it, now that you are finally prepared to—”
“Let me be very clear, Lady Catherine,” he interjected.
“I am not here to fulfil the hopes you have so often expressed, which have been nothing but that—your hopes, not my obligations.” She spluttered, but before she could form words, he went on.
“I have come to, once and for all, state that I will never marry my cousin. There is nothing to support your claims that you and my father were preparing for me to take such a step, nothing to support that he intended to tell me it was his wish that I do so. In addition, I have consulted solicitors and a bishop, who all agree that I would not be legally bound to marry Anne even if a contract existed, and you, Anne, and I—the ones most concerned in this question—all know that I am not honour-bound to her either. I have always maintained my opposition to the notion, and if you say otherwise, you will be the liar, madam.”
Her face turned red, while Anne’s lost what little colour it had. “I will ruin you!” Lady Catherine threatened. “No one will agree to be introduced to Elizabeth Bennet, let alone befriend her.”
Making sure she saw him, Darcy rolled his eyes and shook his head dismissively.
“You might make the attempt, but you will fail, especially since your brother and sister-in-law are prepared to embrace her as my wife, as are my father’s relations.
The only one of us whose reputation will be in tatters is you.
” He sat and spoke less harshly, knowing this was the final moment when their connexion might be salvaged.
“Lady Catherine, Aunt, I knew my father better than you did, knew what kind of father he was. I know without the slightest doubt that if I told him I was adamantly opposed to marrying my cousin and that my reasons were just—that I would never feel for her anything approaching what a man should for his wife, what he did for my mother, and, even more importantly, that I would not be happy with her—he would not have raised the matter again. A choice is before you. You can reconcile yourself to my marriage to Elizabeth Bennet, welcome her as a niece and treat her with all the deference and kindness due to Mrs Darcy, or our connexion is at an end forever. You will not see me or Georgiana again, and we will not write to you. Anne may make her own decision in this regard, if she is willing to defy you.” He glanced at his cousin; she was watching him, her expression unreadable.
His aunt’s complexion became almost purple, but he thought he saw panic beneath her outward show of indignation.
She said, “You would forbid my niece, my sister’s daughter, to—”
“Georgiana asked me to tell you this of her own volition,” he said, refusing to allow her to begin a long-winded lecture.
“She approves of Elizabeth and my wish to marry her. In her own words, she longs to have her as a sister and, because she cares about my well-being, would rejoice to know that I have a lady by my side who will bring joy to my life. You have lost, my lady. Now that they have had time to reflect, the earl accepts that my father did not intend for me to marry Anne and that I have a right to make my own decisions. Further, the countess went to Elizabeth expressly to know her better, and she likes and approves of her. I was with them both just yesterday, and they have promised to welcome my wife into the family. Your brother gave me a letter for you.” He took it from his jacket pocket and held it out to her.
“I suggest you read it carefully and consider what I said. I shall go for a walk and return in one hour. You have that long to decide what you will do.”
Darcy stood and left the room; neither lady spoke as he did, but as soon as the heavy wooden door was closed, he heard his aunt’s strident voice.
During the interval he had granted her, he strolled through the grounds, revisiting some of the paths he and Elizabeth had taken earlier in the year.
His thoughts were heavy, and the weight of them slowed his steps and kept his head lowered.
What would his aunt do? Would his mother have been bitterly disappointed by how he was treating her sister?
Soon, his reflections turned to a more pleasant subject: Elizabeth.
How they had misunderstood each other! One day, he would learn to laugh about it.
She would tease him into doing so, and he would love every moment of it.
He had changed a great deal in the last half year—for the better and thanks to her.
Tomorrow, their life together would finally begin.
Provided there were no more obstacles, that was, and he was prepared to tear and kick them all to pieces, just as he had spent the last week doing to Lady Catherine’s last attempt to force him into a life he had never desired.
“I shall be with you soon, my love,” he whispered, the image of Elizabeth in his mind.
For a time, he stood in a grove, leaning against an old oak tree, and contemplated the wildness that surrounded him.
He had seen Elizabeth in a similar repose.
She had once claimed it calmed and even soothed her if she forgot everything and focused only on the sights and sounds of nature.
At present, doing so allowed him to come to terms with the situation with Lady Catherine and release part of the simmering anger he felt towards Lord and Lady Romsley for having accompanied her to Hertfordshire.
That freed yet more space in his mind and heart to experience the up-lifting sensation of his love for Elizabeth.
“Tomorrow, my darling,” he said. “Tomorrow.”