Chapter 38
Drawing Room
Lady Catherine had chosen the chair closest to the fire, as was her due, and disposed herself there like a queen.
It was a wingback, and only barely acceptable; not worthy of her, of course, but nothing in a tradesman's house could be.
She had made the best of it, sitting there to deliver herself of a diatribe against her own nephew and some oaf of the lower classes laying hands on her to move her against her will!
Darcy, undutiful boy that he was, stood in front of her, one half of his profile cast in shadow by the firelight, while the side facing the light displayed a tight jaw and a flaring nostril.
The other two men remained between her chair and the door, with the younger man looking disdainful and the older one indignant.
Lady Catherine swelled with outrage at such expressions from her social inferiors, but she controlled herself admirably and came to the point of why she was soiling her feet in this common house.
“Darcy, you simply must listen to reason! You will marry Anne because…”
“How did you know that I was courting Miss Elizabeth Bennet?” Darcy interrupted sternly, ignoring wise words.
Lady Catherine waved an irritable hand, her brow lowered furiously. “It does not matter how I found out. What is important is that…”
“It matters to me,” Darcy snapped.
“I daresay Mr. Collins told her,” Mr. Bingley remarked, and Darcy slewed his head to stare at his friend.
“Collins?” he repeated.
“Lady Catherine’s rector and the heir to Longbourn,” Bingley said.
“Oh!” Darcy replied and looked at his aunt again.
“Well, Aunt?” he asked.
She did not feel guilty, because she had no reason to feel guilty, but she was aggrieved. Far better for her nephew to believe that she was omniscient.
“Very well, yes, it was Mr. Collins,” she declared, waving an extravagant hand in Darcy’s direction.
“He, at least, was honorable enough to write me a letter when he learned from the Bennet patriarch that you are pursuing a country girl of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and with ties to trade! I only wish that Mr. Collins had sent me a letter by express. If he had, I would have been here two days ago! But truly, it does not matter. Darcy, I will not leave London until you break off your … I will not call it a courtship, because that suggests an honorable arrangement, and this … entanglement with that Bennet girl is most definitely dishonorable in every conceivable way.”
Darcy’s hands clenched at these words, but he said, “In that case, Madame, I hope that you enjoy spending the rest of your life here in London. I love Miss Elizabeth, and I continually pray that I will have the honor of winning her hand in marriage.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes bulged, and she snorted like a bull. “Win her? Do not be absurd, Darcy. She is yours for the taking. The very idea that a country girl would reject you is utterly absurd!”
“She has not rejected me, Aunt, but she is also not yet willing to marry me. Elizabeth Bennet is a remarkable lady who will not wed based on wealth and connections. She has agreed to a courtship so that we can learn whether we are well matched, and if she decides we are not, she will reject me without hesitation.”
Lady Catherine had had quite enough of looking up at her very tall nephew, and she surged to her feet with a glower on her face.
“Then she is an idiot,” she stated. “For a penniless girl to refuse a rich man…”
“She is not penniless,” Darcy interrupted. “She is mistress of her own estate.”
Catherine de Bourgh huffed and shook her head violently. “She is lying to you, Nephew! The Longbourn estate is entailed away from the female line, and Mr. Collins is the heir!”
Darcy blew out an exasperated breath. “I know that very well, Lady Catherine. Elizabeth is mistress of the family’s other estate, which is not entailed!”
“There is no such estate!”
“I assure you there is,” Mr. Gardiner said from his position near the door. “Sir Thomas acquired it more than a decade ago, a special dispensation from the King himself, and Elizabeth now owns the estate.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes bulged, and she demanded, “If that is so, how much income does it generate?”
“That is none of your business,” Darcy said angrily. “It is enough for you to know that the lady is not penniless, nor is her family. Now, you have caused quite enough trouble, and I must insist that you leave.”
“I will not! I will speak to that harlot…”
He slapped her lightly on the cheek, and she froze, her mouth open.
It was neither hard enough to hurt or to leave a mark, but she could not believe her own nephew would have the audacity to raise a hand against her, especially since she clearly was here to help him see reason and what was truly best for him.
“You will not insult the lady I love,” Darcy said dangerously. “Do you understand?”
Lady Catherine lifted a hand to her cheek, and for the first time, she felt a genuine doubt regarding her ability to convince Darcy.
A moment later, she recovered sufficiently to say, “You have obviously lost your mind, Darcy. I will speak to your uncle Matlock and tell him that if he cannot convince you to give up your ridiculous pursuit, Georgiana must be removed from your care.”
“Do not be absurd,” Darcy said, but Lady Catherine was pleased to observe an uncertain expression on the boy’s face.
After all, the Earl of Matlock was Lady Catherine’s brother and a powerful man in his own right.
With Matlock on her side, they would end their mutual nephew’s preposterous pursuit of a mere country girl.
“I am not being absurd at all,” Lady Catherine declared, lifting her chin a fraction higher, knowing that she had found her footing once more. “Now, I take no leave of any of you, and I send no compliments to the ladies. I am most seriously displeased!”
***
Breakfast Parlor
Darcy House
The Next Morning
Thursday, 19th December, 1811
Darcy filled his plate by habit when he entered the breakfast parlor in the morning, and he could see that his plate was now half empty, but he had no idea what he had been eating.
He was tired, and worried, and preoccupied, and savoring his breakfast simply was not on his list of priorities.
He had not slept well, agitation keeping him awake long after he was usually asleep, and disquieting dreams waking him repeatedly throughout the night.
He had finally crawled out of bed at an early hour, dressed, and made his way to break his fast, his mind working furiously.
There was no doubt that Lady Catherine had every intention of doing everything in her power to separate him from Elizabeth.
He would not give in to her pressure, of course; he would not give up Elizabeth!
But the fact remained that Lady Catherine could make his life very unpleasant, and the mistress of Rosings was fearsome when her will was flouted.
He wondered if she truly intended to take Georgiana away from him and decided, unhappily, that she was probably at least considering it.
It would not be a smooth process if she attempted such a thing.
In the course of such events, it would become apparent that Richard was on Darcy's side, and Lord Matlock would likely be reluctant to break his son's guardianship over young Georgiana, and Darcy's by extension.
But it would all distress poor Georgiana terribly, and Darcy wished to guard his younger sister against the anxiety and fear that resulted from such upheaval.
Georgiana disliked her aunt at the best of times, after all.
Lady Catherine was dedicated to seeing him married to Anne with a passionate determination that called into question her grip on reality.
Certainly she would not be discreet in her displeasure and would express it loudly and at length with no regard as to who might be within range of her carrying voice.
Nor was she overly particular about the truth.
Not only could she spread lies about Elizabeth, but it would not reflect well on the Darcys or the Matlocks were her tongue allowed to run on unbridled.
Appealing to his uncle, the Earl, to restrain Lady Catherine occurred to Darcy, but after a few moments of consideration, he reluctantly dismissed the idea.
Lord Matlock had never been quite as strong-willed as his overbearing sister, and moreover, he had more than once expressed his support of the intended match between Darcy and Anne.
He too would not welcome gossip about the family, but he might agree with Lady Catherine that the best way to scotch rumors would be for Darcy to marry Anne.
And of course, Darcy would not comply with her wishes.
He loved Elizabeth, and he was determined in his pursuit of her.
He would not compromise, come what may. Though right now, what may come was looking very ugly indeed, and Darcy wished he knew what to do about it all, especially in defense of those he cared for so deeply.
In the midst of his fears over his aunt’s upcoming attacks, he was aware of another emotion, that of shame.
He remembered with substantial embarrassment his concerns about the Gardiners less than a day before.
He had been confident that a tradesman and his wife, however exemplary their character, would be neither genteel nor charming, and he had found himself entirely wrong on both accounts.
Mrs. Gardiner had made both Darcy and Georgiana incredibly welcome, and Mr. Gardiner was obviously not only clever, but entirely courteous.
And then Lady Catherine had stormed into the house, bellowing her fury, and behaving like an overbearing fool.
It was not Elizabeth who needed to be embarrassed by her relations, but he himself!
The door to the breakfast parlor opened, and Darcy looked up as his butler entered with a sealed letter on a silver platter. Darcy took the missive with a nod of thanks, broke the seal, and spread it out.
Keaton House
Darcy,
Miss Elizabeth informed me of the rather noisy eruption of your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, at the Gardiners’ residence last night. We have discussed the issue at length, and I have a possible solution. Kindly call on us as soon as you can.
Sincerely,
Lord Keaton
***
In the de Bourgh Carriage
On the Way to the Keaton House
Evening
Thursday, 19th December, 1811
The small lantern barely swung as the carriage glided over the cobbles of the street.
The de Bourgh carriage was very well sprung, as Lady Catherine would accept only the best. Still, even the best springs could not counteract all motion, and the swaying lantern threw dancing shadows across the occupants seated within, and the velvet curtains already drawn against the gathering dusk outside.
Lady Catherine watched the play of light and shadow over the faces of her brother and nephew.
Matlock and his younger son, Colonel Fitzwilliam of the Regulars, were accompanying her to see Darcy and deal with his disloyal pursuit of that strumpet, Elizabeth Bennet.
She had received an invitation from Darcy himself earlier in the afternoon, inviting her and Matlock and Fitzwilliam to some domicile called Keaton House.
She was glad to learn from her brother that this address, at least, was in a much more respectable part of town than Cheapside.
Perhaps Darcy was already coming to his senses regarding this budding mésalliance and wished to petition his aunt for advice in a locale where the designing trollop would not come.
Though, Lady Catherine concluded regretfully, that was likely hoping for too much.
Darcy had not seemed particularly repentant the last time she had seen him, and it had not really been long enough for him to change his mind.
Not that it mattered. The evening could have only one outcome; faced with the combined forces of his aunt, his uncle Matlock, who was also the head of the family, as well as Richard, his cousin and joint guardian of Georgiana, Darcy would be forced to forsake this ridiculous pursuit of an unworthy female and offer for Anne as was only right.
“It does sound disturbing,” the Earl of Matlock said, shaking his head gloomily. “I must assume that Miss Elizabeth Bennet is a very handsome woman.”
“She is pretty, I suppose,” Lady Catherine said with a sniff, “but hardly a beauty. It is as I have said, Darcy is mad!”
“In that case, Aunt,” Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam said gravely, “I am certain you do not wish for your daughter to wed Darcy. One would not wish for the heir of Rosings and Pemberley to have a father tainted by insanity.”
She turned indignant eyes on her nephew and inspected him narrowly. Was he making a joke?
“He is not mad in that sense, of course,” she said. “You know what young men are; by her arts and allurements, that Bennet woman has drawn Darcy into a situation which has caused him to set aside his duty to his family.”
“Do you know this young woman?” Lord Matlock asked.
The colonel nodded, his face grave. “I met her very briefly when I visited Darcy in Hertfordshire but a few weeks ago.”
“And what do you think of her?” Matlock demanded.
The colonel shrugged and said, “I exchanged only a few words with Miss Elizabeth, Father. She is very pretty, but I know nothing of her character.”
The earl harrumphed and leaned back against the squabs.
“There must be something remarkable about the girl, given your cousin’s behavior.
I would not be surprised if your brother Vincent pursued a woman based entirely on her beauty, but Darcy has always seemed a sensible young man and not inclined to chase a penniless lady with poor connections. ”
Lady Catherine felt a twinge of discomfort at these words. According to Darcy, Elizabeth Bennet was the owner of an estate, and she had neglected to inform her brother of that information.
But truly, it seemed most unlikely. Doubtless Miss Elizabeth had lied to Darcy on the topic in order to ensnare him further.
As for the claim that the woman had refused to marry the master of Pemberley until she was certain of compatibility, well, that was laughable!
She was obviously gifted in understanding Darcy’s heart and had chosen a demure path in the hopes of sinking her talons into him deeper.
She would not succeed. Lady Catherine would ensure that Fitzwilliam Darcy married Anne if it was the last thing she ever did.
The carriage came to a halt, and the mistress of Rosings girded her metaphorical loins for battle.