“Retired, sir. I am Morton. You are Mr. Darcy, I presume? And Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“Correct.”
“Please come inside; I will announce you.”
The two gentlemen followed Mr. Morton into the opulent drawing room where Lady Catherine de Bourgh and her daughter, Anne, waited. Mr. Morton intoned, “Mr. Darcy of Pemberley and Colonel –“
“Yes, yes, Morton, we know who they are. Darcy, what took you so long?” Lady Catherine thumped her heavy walking stick on the floor as she spoke.
“I saw no reason to push the horses, Aunt,” Mr. Darcy replied, calmly, surveying his surroundings with a frown. His aunt had a partiality for what she considered elegant colours – dark red and gold – but he disliked the somber ambiance, and he knew the furniture to be too stiff with brocade to be comfortable.
“Anne has been waiting for you, you know,” Lady Catherine continued, thumping her stick again.
Anne looked up from her position near the fire and said, “Hello, cousins. I looked out the window, all day, every day, yet you never appeared.”
Mr. Darcy winced at the whining tone in her voice. Anne tended to whine when she was unhappy, and she was unhappy a good deal of the time. He supposed he would grow accustomed to it once they were married.
“I will call for refreshments,” Lady Catherine announced.
“I, for one, would like the opportunity to clean up a bit first, Aunt,” Colonel Fitzwilliam interposed.
Mr. Darcy turned to him, gratefully, saying, “As would I.”
“You have your usual rooms,” Lady Catherine said, waving them off. “I will have refreshments brought here in half an hour.”
As the two gentlemen mounted the staircase, Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke to Mr. Darcy in a low voice. “You still mean to propose to Anne?” The two cousins had spent a good deal of time discussing the matter on the journey from London.
Mr. Darcy inclined his head. “It will make my mother happy.” This was possibly the hundredth time he had said so.
“But will it makeyouhappy?” the Colonel asked, for possibly the hundredth time.
Mr. Darcy shrugged. “I will have done my duty to my family. That is enough.”
“You are wrong, Darcy. It is not nearly enough. But I fear that by the time you understand that, it will be too late.” The Colonel shrugged, knowing that there was no more he could say.
***
Half an hour later, Mr. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were back in the drawing room as the tea tray was brought in. Lady Catherine asked Anne to serve, doubtless to show Mr. Darcy that she was able to function as his hostess. Anne managed to serve her mother, but unfortunately, she bobbled the cup as she was passing it to Mr. Darcy and the hot liquid splashed onto his trousers. Anne gasped in dismay, and put her hand over her mouth as Mr. Darcy rose, bowed, and silently made his way to the staircase to change his clothing. He hoped Evans had packed a good many pairs of trousers.
“Never mind, Anne,” he heard his aunt say as he walked away. “When you are mistress of Pemberley, you can have the maids serve the tea.”
Have the maids serve the tea? At Pemberley? At Darcy House? A maid would assume the duties of the hostess? Mr. Darcy shook his head. But he supposed he would grow accustomed to it once they were – well, he would grow accustomed to it.
Chapter Three
As Sir Lucas’ carriage drew up to the rectory, Charlotte came flying out the door. “Papa! Maria! Eliza! Oh, I am so very happy!” She was so excited that she hardly knew who to hug first, but she made all three of her laughing guests feel very, very welcome.
Mr. Collins hung back, allowing his wife to recover from her first effusions before joining the little group. “Welcome to our humble home,” he began. “Sir Lucas. Maria. Cousin Elizabeth.” He bowed low to each of them as he intoned their names.
“I thank you for inviting me, Cousin,” Elizabeth said, curtseying in response. She still could not like the man and found it inconceivable that Charlotte could be happy with him, but she would not let these concerns spoil her holiday.
The three newcomers were ushered inside and shown to their rooms, with refreshments promised in half an hour. Elizabeth and Maria were to share a room until Sir Lucas departed in two days’ time, at which point Maria would move into his room.
“I have not shared a room since Jane married,” Elizabeth confided to Maria.
“And I have not shared a room since Charlotte married,” Maria returned. “I hope you do not kick or snore?”
“Jane says I do not, but you know that she never has an unkind word for anyone, so I can make no promises on that score,” Elizabeth replied.
