Georgiana giggled. It was wonderful to hear another sign that she was recovered from the near disaster of the previous summer. A portion of his good mood vanished when he remembered the past events. He had not told Elizabeth about his sister being preyed upon by an old friend. Darcy did not doubt her response; she would be outraged on Georgiana’s behalf. By coincidence, Georgiana was contemplating the same matter, as evidenced when she spoke again.
“Have you told her about…last summer?” Her voice was softer than previously.
“I have not. I believe it is your secret to tell, to whom and when you like. Fitzwilliam and our aunt and uncle had to know, Bramwell as well, so that they could help you when you most needed it.”
“And you,” she whispered.
He accepted her amendment with a nod. “If you choose to tell her, I am confident she will be understanding and sympathetic. My advice, should you wish it, is that it might be better for her to know. What happened last summer still affects you. Miss Elizabeth will be your sister and your guide during this critical period of your life, and she will want to do everything possible to ensure you enjoy your entry into society and are comfortable with the choices you make.” He was referring to Georgiana’s ultimate decision regarding who—and even if—she wished to marry.
His sister said nothing for a long while. She sat, her hands in her lap and eyes on the remnants of the meal. At length, she gave the barest of nods, stood, kissed his cheek, and left the room. After finishing his coffee, he went to his study to read a new treatise on the treatment of crop diseases. He also had letters to write to relations and other important connexions he seldom saw to inform them of his impending marriage.
That morning, as had happened the day before, Bingley attempted to call, leaving his card when he was refused. How the man knew he was in town, Darcy did not care to speculate. It was nothing to give a poor child a few coins to watch his town house and report that it was occupied. Darcy ensured his butler knew that he was not to permit entrance to Mr or Miss Bingley or the Hursts under any circumstances. The Bingleys’ scheming had injured more than one party, and he had done his best to repair the damage. Fortunately, it had been an easy matter when it came to Elizabeth. It would take longer for Miss Bennet’s heart to heal. In the months ahead, she would be in this house, and Darcy did not want her to have to see Bingley, let alone speak to him.
The image of Miss Bennet struggling to maintain a stoic demeanour as he told her the depths of the Bingleys’ vices made him want to thrash the man. Combined with knowing what might have happened had he not learnt the truth—to his future, Elizabeth’s, and Georgiana’s—enraged him so greatly, he was afraid of what he might do if he saw Bingley. These feelings seemed more intense than when he had first confronted the man and his sister, likely because his shock had receded, leaving behind only the fury. No doubt, it would fade, especially once he and Elizabeth were married, and as Miss Bennet’s melancholia became a thing of the past.
Darcy had told Georgiana he had discovered multiple unsavoury things about Bingley. It was enough to explain why he insisted they put distance between them and that family. There was no need to cause her disquiet by telling her every detail. She trusted him to act in accordance with his principles, and he appreciated it.
Pushing aside such reflections, Darcy instead contemplated the coming days. He wished his aunt and uncle were in town to meet his intended, but he did not expect them to organise their lives to suit him. Fortunately, Bramwell and Darcy’s cousin Rebecca were in London, as were her parents. They, along with Elizabeth, would attend a concert soon, and he was anticipating it. He was certain she and Rebecca would become friends. Watching Elizabeth and his family develop connexions was satisfying in a way he had not known to expect. His and Georgiana’s family was growing, and it made his heart swell with emotion.
He was in the middle of a letter when his butler entered the room. Still holding his pen, Darcy looked at him, waiting for an explanation.
“Excuse me, sir, you have a caller I did not think you would wish me to deny. Lady Catherine.”
“My aunt?” Darcy’s eyes widened.
“Yes, sir. I have put her in the green drawing room and sent for refreshments.”
Darcy nodded and dismissed the man. Why had she come? It must be about his engagement. While she might be disappointed that it spelt an end to her faint hopes that he and Anne would marry, she could not be surprised or upset by it.
Well I shall not know what she wants to say until I give her a chance to say it!
CHAPTERFIFTY-FOUR
The evening after Mr Darcy brought his sister and cousin to Gracechurch Street, Elizabeth received a note from him, asking her to call at the Grosvenor Square home of the earl and countess of Romsley. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was unexpectedly in town and wished to make her acquaintance. Elizabeth had planned to call on Miss Darcy, but there would be another occasion for that.
Elizabeth made her way across town at the appointed time. She had yet to visit Mr Darcy’s town house, but she had an idea of what to expect, having been to Mayfair with her aunt and uncle in the past. No doubt, the residence of his noble relations would be at least as grand as his. Despite believing she was prepared for what she would find, she suffered a momentary pang of intimidation when the carriage stopped in front of a large, magnificent house. It was far from what she was used to, but she would adapt to her change in circumstances.
It was not just her living arrangements that would be altered. Elizabeth would join a family that was considerably different from her own. Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam were agreeable, but she might not find the same sort of friendly reception this morning. Mr Darcy had told her a little about his aunt, and Elizabeth had William’s and Kitty’s accounts of the woman, though she suspected they were guarded in what they wrote. She had the impression that Lady Catherine was a forceful character, one who insisted everything be ordered to her liking. She also knew that Lady Catherine had harboured hopes of Mr Darcy marrying her daughter. It was possible Elizabeth would be met with suspicion, if not hostility. If that were the case, she would have to control her impertinence. Rudeness was never excusable, and, most importantly, it would disappoint Mr Darcy to see her and his aunt at odds. Lady Catherine was his mother’s only living sister, and he was fond of her.
Mr Darcy and his aunt awaited her in a richly furnished drawing room. The woman was middle-aged, bore a faint resemblance to the colonel, and although her clothing was very fine, the fashion was from a decade or more in the past.
“Lady Catherine, may I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Mr Darcy said, his voice deep and holding the barest whisper of wariness. He completed the introduction, and they sat.
After observing her for a short interval, Lady Catherine spoke.
“I wish I could say I was surprised to receive my nephew’s letter informing me of his betrothal, but I was not. He did not wish to confide in me about what had upset him when he met your sister in Kent last month, but I understood enough from what he did say, and what Mr and Mrs Collins told me after his departure, to know there was a lady involved. I wanted to meet the girl who so enchanted Darcy.”
“I am very happy to make your acquaintance. I was so fortunate as to meet Miss Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam the other day, and I greatly anticipate meeting the remainder of Mr Darcy’s family.” Elizabeth wondered what Kitty and William would have said about her. Kitty was not known for her discretion, and William would answer any question put to him by someone he viewed as his superior.
“Oh, you met Fitzwilliam, did you? We are all enormously proud of him. He had already left on his most recent assignment when I arrived in town. You have not met Bramwell yet?” Elizabeth shook her head but had no opportunity to speak before the lady continued. “He, too, is on the brink of marriage. Miss Rebecca Reed will soon be the viscountess. Her family is a good one—her father and Darcy’s shared a grandfather—though my nephew could have aimed higher. I believe affection motivated him to propose to her, she naturally accepted, and my brother allowed him to have his way. I have yet to decide if Romsley is too indulgent, careless of our family’s standing, or simply a fool.”
“Lady Catherine—”
Mr Darcy got no further. His aunt waved off what Elizabeth supposed would be an objection.
“I may not entirely approve, but I am aware that young people like to have their say in these matters. When I was your age, our fathers told us whom we could and could not marry. Very often, they arranged the matches themselves without reference to their children and theirfeelings.” She said the final word in a mocking tone. “I am not going to argue with your choice or insult the girl, Darcy. You need not look like you are ready to interject and whisk her away the instant I say a disagreeable word. She appears to be made of strong enough stuff to withstand a little sourness on my part.”
Elizabeth bit the inside of her cheek to avoid laughing. There was something about Lady Catherine that interested Elizabeth, despite her surliness.
