Chapter Eight
Still in shock from Lady Catherine’s dreadful words to Dr. Trent, Anne sat paralysed by the fire, staring at her mother as Lady Catherine stalked back and forth, muttering under her breath, a gleeful light in her eye.
“Mother,” she attempted to interject.
“Hush, Anne! We have him now! Oh, yes, we do,” Lady Catherine actually rubbed her hands together gleefully. She looked quite mad, Anne thought in horror, like a Shakespearean villain upon the stage.
“Have who? Mother, I do not like this…”
“You will be quiet!” Lady Catherine snapped, whirling to point a finger at her, and Anne shrank back, mentally berating herself for her timidity, but unable to help it. “I know what’s best. Me, your mother! You will do as I say. And so will Darcy.” She chuckled. “Indeed, he will!”
Utterly confused, Anne could only sit in miserable silence until the door swung open and Darcy strode in. She pushed herself to her feet, opening her mouth to address her cousin, but Darcy was already speaking, his tone stern.
“Lady Catherine, what is the meaning of this? Dr. Trent informed me that you have denied aid to Miss Bennet in her hour of need!”
“I certainly did,” Lady Catherine sneered, “and I tell you, Darcy, I am deeply ashamed of you. Your mother would turn over in her grave if she knew of your disgraceful behaviour!”
Darcy went first white, then red. “Do not dare to speak of my mother,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “She would have liked Elizabeth very much.”
“Do not you dare to speak that name in Anne’s presence ever again!” Lady Catherine barked, before lowering her voice, her tone turning conciliatory, honey-sweet. “Come, Darcy. You have sown your wild oats. It is time to set this woman aside, do your duty to your family, and marry Anne.”
Darcy cast a glance at Anne, who shook her head and rolled her eyes at him. He did not smile, only nodded briskly. “It is time for you to set aside this delusion that Anne and I will someday marry, Aunt Catherine. Neither of us wish for it. We are fond of each other, but…”
“Then that is far more than most have as a basis for marriage!” Lady Catherine snapped back at him. “You will marry Anne, Darcy.” She walked closer to him, her smile sharp. “I shall have the banns called, beginning next Sunday. Mr. Collins will be delighted to oblige.”
“You shall do no such thing, because I am not marrying Anne!” Darcy’s voice rose.
“Oh, yes you are,” Lady Catherine said. “You must. How else shall you save Georgiana’s reputation?”
Darcy froze. “I beg your pardon?”
The two protagonists were so focused on each other that neither noticed the colonel enter the room. He looked at the tableau, at Darcy and Lady Catherine glaring at each other silently, looked over at Anne with raised eyebrows. She shook her head despairingly.
“You had best make your meaning clear, Lady Catherine,” Darcy said sharply at last.
“Not only have you been dallying with your trollop under my very nose…”
Darcy cut her off. “You will not call Miss Bennet such names, Lady Catherine, or it will go very ill for you!” He glared at her. She did not back down so much as an inch, glaring right back at him.
“You have also shown yourself to be a most unfit guardian for Georgiana. Your judgement is appalling, Darcy!”
“How dare you!” he was shouting now.
“Easy, Darce. Aunt Catherine is disappointed, that is all…” Carefully Fitzwilliam approached his cousin, placed a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.
“I am disappointed in both of you.” She folded her arms and smiled. “You both showed very poor judgement, in my opinion.”
“In innocently enjoying the company of a charming gentlewoman? I think not, madam,” Fitzwilliam said coolly. “Miss Bennet does not deserve your censure.”
“Oh, that is not what I am referring to.” Her smile was quite evil.
“I am talking about your decision to employ Mrs. Younge without properly checking her references. To allow Georgiana to set up a household at the tender age of fifteen, to go to Ramsgate with naught but a paid companion to watch over her, and to educate her so poorly she thought nothing of agreeing to an elopement with the son of a steward.”
Darcy and Fitzwilliam were both so shocked they could only gape.
Sensing victory, Lady Catherine barrelled on.
“You are both unfit guardians. I cannot imagine what your father was thinking, Darcy, to set two young men to watch over my niece! I shall set all to rights, believe me. When you and Anne are married and at Pemberley, Georgiana shall come here, to me. I shall soon have all these nonsensical notions of love out of her foolish head.”
Unable to speak, utterly horrified by what they were hearing, both men stood frozen. It was Anne’s voice that broke the ringing silence.
“You will do no such thing, Mother,” she said quite placidly, “because if you even think again of blackening Georgiana’s name, I will claim that I have already witnessed Darcy compromising Elizabeth.
And I will tell my uncle how twice now you have attempted to place Darcy in a compromising situation with me, only to be foiled when I refused to do your bidding.
You will be the laughing-stock of the Ton.
And no, I do not care that my good name might be ruined. I do not wish ever to marry.”
Startled, they all looked at Anne. Colonel Fitzwilliam, rather more accustomed to being ambushed than Darcy, was the first to recover his wits and to support Anne’s statements.
“Madam, do not think that you will find an ally in my father if you seek to remove Georgiana from her brother’s custody.
He is well aware of the – situation – and fully supportive of our actions in the matter.
And if you should attempt to blackmail Darcy in this matter by threatening to destroy Georgiana’s reputation, know one thing.
” He loomed over her, glaring straight into her eyes.
“If you do, I will see you ruined. I will have you consigned to Bedlam. And do not think that I cannot, madam. Darcy and I have friends in very high circles.”
Darcy had been standing, quietly putting puzzle pieces together in his mind, and finally spoke up.
“There is only one possible way in which you could have come into possession of this information, Lady Catherine,” he said in a quiet, yet lethal tone. “How did you gain sight of my letter?”
“Letter? What letter?” Colonel Fitzwilliam gave him a confused look.
“I wrote Elizabeth a letter, explaining certain things, including my animosity for Wickham. She has met him, you see, and been inveigled into believing his side of the story…”
“She’s whoring herself for a steward’s son, too, and still you want to defend her? You shared the news of Georgiana’s disaster with such a person?” Lady Catherine harrumphed.
“Lady Catherine, I have never in my life struck a woman. That record may be blemished unless you tell me, right now, how you came to have sight of that letter – and where it is now?” Darcy clenched his jaw with rage.
“She burned it,” Anne said helpfully, when Lady Catherine did not seem inclined to speak. “Mr. Collins gave it to her.”
“And how did he come into possession of it?” Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy, who could only shake his head.
“Thank you, Anne. Lady Catherine, I take no leave of you. After your actions this day, you deserve none. Come, Richard. We shall depart today, instead of tomorrow: I daresay our bags are still mostly packed. Your pardon, Anne, but I cannot stay another night under a roof where Lady Catherine believes herself to be in authority. We shall put up at the Inn in Sevenoaks for tonight; we should be there by dinnertime and we can come to the Parsonage tomorrow to check on Miss Elizabeth and see if we may offer her any assistance.”
“As always, I am at your disposal, cousin,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said dryly, but he was quite in agreement with Darcy. They both bowed over Anne’s hand and walked out of the room without acknowledging Lady Catherine, who scowled, enraged at being thwarted, but could not think of anything to say.
In the end, she shouted at the door as it closed behind them; “I am most seriously displeased!”
The door opened again, and Darcy looked back at her. “Frankly, dear Aunt, I don’t give a damn.”