Mrs. Bennet, visibly affronted, opened her mouth to protest, but Elizabeth did not give her the opportunity.
“If you accompany us to London, you will be taken directly to Longbourn, where you will remain,” Elizabeth said crisply. “Our time in London will be brief, as we must then travel to Rosings. We are not going to London to socialise nor to indulge your whims. Furthermore, we are in mourning for my husband’s cousin.”
Mrs. Bennet dismissed the explanation with a wave of her hand. “A cousin! You barely need to mourn a week for such a distant relation.”
Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed. “We will honour the late viscount for a full month, if only to show respect to the new viscount. Part of our purpose in London is to support Colonel Fitzwilliam as he resigns his commission. He is now Viscount Ashburn and soon will become the Earl of Matlock, for Lord Matlock suffered an apoplexy upon learning of his son’s death.”
Mrs. Bennet brightened, clasping her hands together. “How delightful!” she exclaimed. “I have seen how he looks at my Jane. They will make a lovely couple. Imagine it—a viscount and perhaps an earl! Jane could not do better.”
Elizabeth’s expression hardened. “Delightful?” she repeated sharply. “The Fitzwilliam family is in mourning for one member and might soon lose another. This is hardly a time for matchmaking. Should Lord Matlock pass away, Richard will be in mourning for an additional year or six months and unable to consider marriage during that time. He will mourn his brother for three months as it is. Even if there were an established courtship or engagement—which there is not—any plans would have to wait.
“Moreover, Richard is not a man to enter into such commitments lightly. He carries a great many responsibilities now, and there is much to resolve before he could even think about forming an attachment. You must put aside your scheming, Mama, and understand the gravity of the situation.”
Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips, clearly displeased, but Elizabeth held her gaze, unflinching. It was clear that no amount of protest would sway her daughter, and Mrs. Bennet’s attempts to assert control would meet with unyielding resistance.
“How can you be so indifferent to your sister’s chance of marrying such a wealthy and titled man as the new viscount?” Mrs. Bennet scolded, her voice rising with indignation. “I would think you would relish the opportunity to have Jane settled so near to yourself, comfortably and grandly.”
Elizabeth closed her eyes, drawing in a slow, measured breath to steady herself. When she spoke, her tone was calm but firm. “Jane is already settled very near to me, Mama. She has a homeat Pemberley for as long as she wishes to remain which is more than I can say for you at this moment. I will not push Jane towards any suitor, even one as eligible as Richard. Should she and the colonel choose to form a deeper connection, I will not stand in their way. But, as I have already explained, nothing can be considered for several months.
“Once our business in London is concluded, Richard will need to return to Matlock to set things in order there. He and Fitzwilliam will undoubtedly spend much time together over the coming months addressing the estate’s needs.”
Elizabeth’s eyes fixed firmly on her mother. “In the meantime, however, I will not allow you to throw my home into chaos. I appreciate that you have made efforts to temper your behaviour, but the scene I returned to willnothappen again. Never again are you to assume you have any authority over the running of my household.
“If you cannot abide by this, my husband is willing to lease you a modest cottage nearby. It will be sufficient for your needs and for any of my sisters who wish to reside with you, but it will not be Pemberley. Let me be perfectly clear: you will not have much say in the matter. The property will be practical and suitable, but it will not match your aspirations of grandeur.”
Mrs. Bennet let out a wail, flinging herself dramatically onto the settee. “You have no compassion for my poor nerves!” she cried, pressing a hand to her forehead in exaggerated distress.
Elizabeth did not even attempt to suppress the roll of her eyes this time. “Madam, do not think such theatrics will have any effect on me. I am long accustomed to them. A maid has already been instructed to pack your belongings, and after dinner, you and my sisters will be conveyed to the dower house. You are freeto depart sooner if you prefer, but rest assured, this behaviour will not be tolerated further.
“While we are away, you will have no access to the main house. Furthermore, you will not be allowed to make changes to the dower house either. Any attempts to overstep will result in your immediate removal to Longbourn.”
Mrs. Bennet sat up abruptly, her dramatic act abandoned when she realised it had no impact. For a moment, she glared at her daughter, clearly unused to such defiance. Finally, with a frown of resignation, she muttered, “Very well. Arrange for me to be transported to the dower house as soon as possible.”
Elizabeth inclined her head, her expression neutral. "It will be done." She rang the bell for a servant and gave succinct instructions as one appeared.
Angrily, Mrs. Bennet turned and left the room. Within the hour, she was escorted to a modest but well-appointed suite in the dower house. She sat alone on the edge of the settee, her hands tightly folded in her lap, her mind a whirl of indignation, hurt, and reluctant reflection.
How had it come to this? she wondered. She had spent years managing Longbourn, guiding her daughters through their early years, and striving—always striving—for their futures. Everything she did, every scheme and every argument, had been for their benefit. At least, that was what she had always told herself. Yet now, her Lizzy—the wilful, opinionated child who had once been the bane of her plans—had risen to a position of power far beyond anything Mrs. Bennet had ever dreamed for her. Here she was, cast out of Pemberley’s grandeur, left to stew in a smaller, quieter space, as though she were little more than an afterthought.
Her pride prickled at the indignity of it, but there was a deeper discomfort she could not ignore. Had she truly gone too far? She had believed she was helping—organising, asserting herself, ensuring that Jane’s future would be secure with Colonel Fitzwilliam. Yet Elizabeth’s words had struck a nerve.Had I created chaos instead of offering assistance? Have I truly overstepped?
She shifted uneasily, her thoughts turning inward in a way they rarely did. She had always been quick to speak, quick to act, assuming her motives were pure. But was it possible that her desire to control had overshadowed her daughters’ happiness? Jane had looked uncomfortable every time the colonel’s name was mentioned. Was she pushing her eldest into a match Jane might not even want?
Lizzy… Elizabeth had changed. She was no longer the headstrong girl Mrs. Bennet could dismiss or argue into submission. She was now a woman of authority, commanding not just Pemberley but also the respect of those around her. A faint pang of pride mingled with the sting of humiliation.Perhaps I have done something right after all,she thought reluctantly.She is everything I wanted my daughters to be—independent, secure, and capable—not to mention married extremely well and without my interference.
Mrs. Bennet sighed, her hands unclenching. As much as she disliked being confined to the dower house, she could not ignore the truth in Elizabeth’s words. Pemberley was Lizzy’s home now, and if Mrs. Bennet was to remain part of her daughter’s life, she would have to find a way to adapt.
Still, the thought of relinquishing her role as the guiding force in her family’s life was a bitter pill to swallow. For so long, she haddefined herself by her daughters’ futures. Without that purpose, who was she?
Elizabeth soughtout Mary and Jane to share some of what had been learned at Matlock and to explain the plans for the coming days, particularly regarding their move to the dower house. As she spoke, she carefully observed Jane’s reaction to the news that Colonel Fitzwilliam was now Viscount Ashburn and that he would be traveling to London to resign his commission and begin to arrange for the transfer.
When Elizabeth finished, Mary seemed to sense that there was more her sisters needed to discuss privately. With quiet understanding, she excused herself, leaving Elizabeth and Jane alone to continue their conversation.
“What are you thinking, dearest?” Elizabeth asked her elder sister gently. It was clear that Jane had been distressed by the news shared that morning.
“Nothing, Lizzy, truly. I am well,” Jane replied, though her tone betrayed her effort to mask her true feelings.
Elizabeth tilted her head, studying her sister closely. “You like the colonel, do you not?” she asked, deciding to dispense with subtlety and seek a direct answer.
