“What if it rains?”
William and Mr. Bingley continued their playful squabbling until a maid entered to refresh their lemonade. Mrs. Lane followed behind the girl, bearing a letter for Elizabeth. “This came for you while you were at the fair, Miss Bennet.”
The housekeeper sought William’s permission to allow most of the servants the rest of the day off so that they might also attend the fair, and he gave his assent. Meanwhile, Elizabeth stared down at the letter with a sense of dread. She recognized the ostentatious flourishes of Rebecca's penmanship, and she opened the letter with trembling hands. It was just what she feared – this was their agreed upon signal of warning that Elizabeth was found out. “Mrs. Lane, when did this arrive? What time?”
“About two o’clock, or a little after.”
“Thank you. Perhaps you might bring my traveling cases downstairs? You are very kind, Mrs. Lane.”
The housekeeper bobbed into a curtsey and left the room, and Elizabeth glanced anxiously at the clock – it was already past five. She rose so swiftly she nearly sent her chair flying backward. “We must go at once. William, you must make the carriage ready immediately, and have your trunk brought down. We must go before Lady Catherine arrives.”
“Very well, let us make haste,” he agreed.
Mr. Bingley laughed. “And for Heaven’s sake, wash your faces! You will frighten everyone who sees you when you freshen your horses, or they shall collect you and carry you off to Bedlam.”
But there was no time. Mrs. Lane returned to the parlor with a look of abject terror in her eyes as she announced three visitors. Lady Catherine swept into the room looking ready to murder the first person who spoke. Behind her was Elizabeth’schastened-looking cousin Richard, and her astonishingly irate sister. “Lizzy, how could you?”
Lady Catherine held up a hand to silence her daughter – likely forevermore her decidedlyfavoritedaughter. She stared at them with chilling rage as she allowed the silence to grow oppressive. She had always had a way of commanding a room, though Elizabeth was far from appreciating that quality in her mother at present.
William finally stepped forward and bowed, and Mr. Bingley followed suit. “Welcome to my home, Lady Catherine.”
“Is this your home? I thought I had unaccountably arrived at a menagerie, or perhaps the circus.”
Elizabeth could not bear to let William face her mother alone; she moved to stand by his side and took his hand in hers. “We went to the village fair, Mamma. I met the people who will be my neighbors after William and I are married.”
At Elizabeth’s use of her betrothed’s Christian name, Jane narrowed her eyes. Richard raised his brows. Lady Catherine strode further into the room, gesturing with her walking stick to a nearby chair. “Come and sit here, Elizabeth, while I have a word with this young man.”
Instead, Elizabeth resumed her nearby seat beside the window. “I am perfectly comfortable where I am, Mamma.” She did her best to appear dignified despite the face paint she and her companions still wore.
Lady Catherine moved closer to William, standing between him and Elizabeth. “I will be removing my daughter from this house one way or another, sir, though I suggest you do her this one courtesy, and persuade her to come with me willingly. She will not like for your final glimpse of her to take place while she is slung over my nephew’s shoulder.”
Elizabeth looked imploringly at her cousin; she could not account for why he was not defending his friend. “Richard….”
“Not a word from you, Elizabeth! And you, sir, must now consider your connection with my daughter to be irrevocably severed. In this, as indeed in all points, I am firm.”
“I am going to marry Elizabeth, your ladyship. I love her, and I can provide her a comfortable and happy life.”
“Mamma, this might all be hushed up, if only you would accept him as my choice.”
“This charlatan? Never! Andyoumight be hushed up, my dear; but before I am obliged to forcibly administer you a sedative for our journey home, perhaps you will present Miss Cardew. I wonder if she is the young lady attached most indecently to that tradesman who has made himself a perpetual clinger-on to your relations?”
Kitty was indeed in Mr. Bingley’s protective embrace, looking horrified by Lady Catherine’s notice. Mr. Bingley gave her a very civil nod. “This is she, your ladyship. Allow me to present Miss Catherine Cardew.”
Lady Catherine sneered at him. “I had understood that you intended to depart London and visit that pesky invalid Mr. Bunbury, whose abundant ailments have long demanded my valuable nephew’s time. Does he reside in this house, sir?”
“No, Lady Catherine. He is somewhere else – indeed, he is dead. He died six days ago.”
“Well, that is not unexpected, I suppose. My condolences, Richard. This tragic loss will undoubtedly oblige you to be more often amongst your own kin. Pray, what did Mr. Bunbury die of, Mr. Bingley? I have long been curious about this gentleman’s multitudinous maladies.”
Mr. Bingley looked panicked. “Oh, well, Bunbury was quite… exploded.”
“Exploded? Was he the victim of some revolutionary outrage?” She blinked, and turned to William with a stern look. “I told you this would come to the brink of the French Revolution. Exploded, indeed.”
“Expired,” Mr. Bingley said hastily. “Poor Bunbury just… expired. He could bear his illness no longer, and I believe he had gone to a much better place.” He looked at Kitty with a fond smile, while Richard brought a palm to his face.
“I see. And may I ask why you are holding Miss Cardew’s hand in what seems to be to be a most unnecessary manner? I must inform you, sir, that she is the youngest daughter of my dearest friend, and consequently Elizabeth and Jane’s half-sister.”
“We have lately become aware of the fact,” Mr. Bingley said.
