Page 228 of A Question of Character

“Your cousin! What an extraordinary notion.”

Darcy accepted the reaction with admirable composure.

“My aunt has advocated the match for several years. She considers family connections exceedingly desirable.”

“I imagine she will not be pleased.”

“No.”

His answer required no elaboration.

Elizabeth reached beneath the table to squeeze his hand briefly.

He copied the pressure with grateful amusement.

He requested that the marriage articles be signed quickly, just to avoid any conflict from that quarter.

The suggestion, though offered with evident humor, contained sufficient seriousness that no one dismissed it entirely.

“My aunt is capable of many things,” Darcy admitted. “Preventing our marriage is not among them. Nevertheless, I should prefer to remove every opportunity for interference before she conceives one.”

Mr. Bennet nodded thoughtfully.

“I cannot fault such prudence.”

Mr. Bennet happily obliged him.

The solicitor was summoned within two days, and the settlements received careful examination before every necessary signature was affixed. Mrs. Bennet confessed she understood none of the legal language, though she declared herself perfectly satisfied whenever anyone mentioned Elizabeth’s comfort or future security.

When all had been completed, Darcy appeared visibly relieved.

“There,” Mr. Bennet said, sanding the final page. “Your formidable aunt must now seek another occupation.”

“I sincerely hope she finds one.”

For a brief while, everyone believed the matter concluded.

Mr. Collins’s proposed visit never occurred. Before Mr. Bennet could reply, he received a scathing second letter from his heir, condemning the match his noble patroness’s nephew had made with the Bennet family, and swearing he would cast the entire family out before his successor was cold in his grave.

The transformation proved so complete that Elizabeth wondered whether the two letters could possibly have come from the same gentleman. Every expression of reconciliation had vanished. In its place appeared page after page lamenting Lady Catherine’s profound disappointment, warning of the disastrous consequences of disobliging so distinguished a patroness, and hinting darkly at future displeasure should Mr. Bennet persist in encouraging the connection.

Mr. Bennet read several passages aloud with theatrical gravity before surrendering altogether to laughter.

“I believe,” he declared, wiping his eyes, “that my cousin writes most eloquently when someone else supplies his opinions.”

Darcy accepted the letter with an expression somewhere between embarrassment and resignation.

“I recognize my aunt’s influence in every sentence.”

“Except the longest ones,” Elizabeth replied.

“They belong entirely to Mr. Collins.”

That observation restored everyone’s spirits.

Mr. Darcy solemnly promised Mrs. Bennet that she would have no need to worry on that count.

Turning toward his future mother-in-law with complete sincerity, he said, “Whatever my aunt may think, neither she nor anyone else shall deprive you of your daughters’ welcome at Pemberley. You have my word.”