Page 71 of Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet

“Harrumph! And you, Susan, do you support this travesty?”

Lady Matlock laid down her fork, calmly took a sip of wine, and leant across the table, taking Mama’s hand. “Mrs. Bennet, though of new acquaintance, is a lovely lady. From the very first moment, I saw she puts George’s well-being ahead of her own. She confessed to me that, were Henry and I to disapprove of her marriage, she would withdraw.”

Mr. Darcy abruptly turned to her, tears in his eyes. “No, never!” he muttered. I knew then that he would abandon even Pemberley itself, leaving it to Darcy to manage, rather than lose Mama. My heart fluttered; their love was blossoming so quickly, just as the Monthly Rose in Lady Anne’s garden came into bloom month after month.

Lady Matlock paused, her eyes catching mine. “We have heard nothing but good of her daughter, Elizabeth. A gentlewoman who has raised such a lovely young lady is certainly a suitable mistress of Pemberley, and mother to our dear niece, Georgiana.”

Lady Catherine was about to renew her protest when her countenance changed from outrage to calculation. “And Miss Bennet is to be sister to Fitzwilliam?”

“Of course, Catherine. The children of a married couple are siblings under law, no matter their blood ties.” Mr. Darcy gave Lady Catherine a puzzled look, as though speaking to a child.

“Well, indeed!” Lady Catherine turned to Darcy who, by some mischance, was sitting adjacent to her, opposite his cousin. “Thus, there can be no impediment to his marrying Anne!”

“I do not take your meaning, Aunt,” Darcy frowned, as confused as we all were.

“The young chit, as well you know, Darcy, has been drawing you in by her wiles. I have seen it—having you sit next to her, your carrying her upstairs when she can surely walk. But now, as your sister, she cannot entrap you further—siblings cannot marry!” Lady Catherine looked directly at me, gloating. “What now, Miss Bennet? Are you to turn your charms, meagre as they are, on to Milton, or have you already befuddled Richard?”

All four gentlemen were immediately to their feet. I sat in stunned silence. Darcy was staring at me; I glanced up and caught his look: compassion for the cruel words of his aunt; anger that she should so abuse me. Yet, there was something deeper that I had fought to deny, even to myself. There was tenderness, concern, warmth, understanding, respect, admiration—all the ingredients of love—not the love of a dear brother, but the love of the best man I had ever known.

I burst into tears, giving Lady Catherine the satisfaction of knowing she had wounded me; that she had seen our affection for what it was, and now exulted that Darcy was lost to me. ‘That which we have, we prize not to the worth, whiles we enjoy it, but being lack’d and lost, why, then we rack the value,’ whispered Mary.

“Much ado about nothing,” murmured Darcy, his breath barely stirring the air. “Yet, dearest Elizabeth, certainly it is not nothing to love; and, as must be, to forfeit its happy conclusion.”

* * *

Chapter 28

Pemberley

The news of Mrs. Bennet’s and Mr. Darcy’s betrothal was greeted by the Crawleys and the Hursts with all the acclamation of goodwill that was to be expected from truly well bred people. Mr. Collins was silent, and I supposed he would immediately scurry off to discover Lady Catherine’s opinion before venturing one of his own. To my surprise, even Miss Bingley was effusive in her congratulations, though she did not seek an introduction to the Countess, fearing to be cut after her poor behaviour in London. Lady Matlock, wishing the day to remain pleasant, appeared blissfully unaware of the lady’s presence.

Later that morning, the ladies were encouraged to take a walk in the gardens, with Milton and Darcy to accompany us. Milton quickly claimed the arms of Miss Crawley and Georgiana. Miss de Bourgh, displaying unusual fortitude, declared she wished to accompany us. Naturally, Lady Catherine insisted Darcy walk with her, in case the path proved to be dangerous. ‘Are there scree slopes at Pemberley?’ smirked Mary.

Mrs. Hurst declined to walk out, staying to speak with Lady Matlock and Mrs. Bennet. Initially, I thought to walk with Miss Bingley, but she hurried ahead to take Darcy’s free arm. I wondered whether her assault on Darcy was to be renewed, now that I was no longer a contender for his matrimonial bliss.

Darcy glanced back at me, his face reddening at the others’ rudeness. “This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue.”

But I had not the least inclination to remain with them for much longer, wishing to visit the folly and view the unrepentant Diana by myself.

“No, no. Stay where you are. You appear to uncommon advantage; a fourth would make conversation between you all quite hard, were we to walk four abreast.”

“How will you bear it, Fitzwilliam, to have such a sister as Miss Elizabeth? To think I must also call her cousin—how intolerable.” Anne de Bourgh’s voice cut sharply through the peace of the garden. I was still behind them; the path to the folly was a little further along.

“Why, Elizabeth is an exceedingly pleasant young lady,” interposed Miss Bingley. “Her elder sister is married to my brother. Louisa and I were travelling to visit them when we were so kindly offered accommodation at Pemberley.”

Whatever was Caroline about?—she had not called me Eliza?

“I shall not talk of her then,” responded Miss Anne with some pique. “That hedge, Fitzwilliam, is too high. We must have it cut back.”

In reply, the only sound was the slight crunch of Darcy’s boots on the gravel.

“I trust, Fitzwilliam, that you intend to take up residence at Rosings. Mama has said she will vacate the mistress’s apartments. That is so considerate of her.”

“Then you must redecorate the room to your taste, Miss Anne. Did Lady Catherine decorate when she married?—why, the furnishings must be at least twenty years out of date.” Caroline laughed. “It must be so much fun to plan the decoration of a whole house. I have heard that Rosings is quite the mausoleum.”

“Oh, no. The family crypt is in the Hunsford cemetery. Do you think, Fitzwilliam, that we should give up the house in Town, or lease it out? I much prefer Darcy House, though the attics are dreadful.”

“Which is the more fashionable, Grosvenor or Berkeley Square? I myself prefer Berkeley—so convenient to Gunter’s at number seven.”