Page 94 of President Darcy


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The older woman turned to Elizabeth. “There seemed to be a garden of sorts in your backyard, accessible through the room with all the framed teddy bear paintings.” Her voice dripped with contempt. “Might I have a word with you out there?”

What could the woman possibly want with me? Did it have something to do with her foundation? Elizabeth exchanged a brief, perplexed glance with Jane before following Mrs. de Bourgh into the hall and through their mother’s “work room,” which was littered with abandoned craft projects.

Both women were silent as they emerged through the back door into the yard, which consisted mostly of mud, clumps of grass, and the overgrown remains of Fanny Bennet’s last attempts at gardening. Mrs. de Bourgh surveyed the yard. “While I commend your parents’ desire to save money on landscaping, I’m afraid the results are a crime against nature.” She glided down the pathway and seated herself on a stone bench with great ceremony.

Elizabeth bit back an angry retort; the other woman might be tactless, but the nonexistent landscaping could not be defended. After taking a leisurely stroll to the opposite bench, she took more time than strictly necessary to arrange herself on it.

“I cannot imagine my visit comes as a surprise to you,” the older woman intoned solemnly.

Elizabeth saw no reason to dissemble. “Actually, I have no idea why you’re here.”

Mrs. de Bourgh pursed her lips in disapproval. “You might wish to play games, Ms. Bennet, but I will not play along.” She sat a little straighter on the bench. “You must know that I am here to say you can never see my nephew, William Darcy, again.”

“I don’t believe that’s your decision.” Elizabeth gave her a blatantly false smile.

Mrs. de Bourgh toy

ed with one of the bracelets on her wrist. “My nephew is an intelligent man, but he does not always know what is best for him. It is up to those of us who care for him to watch out for his best interests.”

“He’s the President of the United States; I would say he’s very capable of taking care of himself,” Elizabeth said in a careful and controlled tone.

Mrs. de Bourgh waved away that objection. “In personal matters, he does not always know what is best. And what is best for him is a woman of his own station in life. Someone who travels in the same circles, and who can be a help in his political career.” Tilting her head back slightly, she looked down at Elizabeth. “Not a hindrance.”

What was an adequate response to such a statement? She hadn’t set out to create problems for Will; that had been Lydia.

It probably doesn’t matter anyway, said a voice in the back of her head. The man hasn’t called in nearly a week. Still, Elizabeth’s pride was piqued. “If I were to date your nephew, I would not consider myself to be a hindrance to his career.” She didn’t bother keeping the frostiness out of her tone.

“I beg to differ. A president’s private life is not private. He belongs to the whole country. If William were to marry you, it would be detrimental to his presidency and therefore to the whole country.”

Marry? Elizabeth felt suddenly faint. Who said anything about marriage?

Pull yourself together. Don’t let that old bat see how the idea has shaken you. Instead she laughed grimly. “You think my relationship with your nephew could bring about the end of western civilization?” Elizabeth raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Mrs. de Bourgh sniffed. “No need to be overly dramatic. I am simply pointing out the humiliation he would suffer.”

Now Elizabeth’s pulse was racing, and her body was hot all over. “There would be nothing shameful in dating me.”

Mrs. de Bourgh stood swiftly, advancing across the pathway. “Nothing shameful! Don’t you understand the shame you have already visited upon his administration? Are the shades of the White House to be thus polluted?”

Elizabeth re-examined this sentence in her head, but it still didn’t make sense. “I don’t think the White House has shades. I’ve only seen curtains and Venetian blinds.”

“Wretched girl!” The older woman shook a bony finger at Elizabeth. “Will you at least promise me that you will exit William’s life and bother him no more?”

Elizabeth shot to her feet, facing her across a narrow gap. “No, I will not. I only promise to make decisions based on what is best for myself and my family.”

Mrs. de Bourgh had grown quite red in the face. “I will cut you! I will never speak to you again!”

Elizabeth smiled at her. “Promise?”

The older woman’s eyes grew wide with fury as she drew in a breath. Elizabeth didn’t linger to discover what additional invective she planned to hurl, ducking around her and retreating hastily into the house. Mrs. de Bourgh’s voice followed her. “You ungrateful wretch! Gold digger! I will ruin you and your family!” Elizabeth slammed the back door, shutting out the sound of the woman’s imprecations.

Her father was standing in the back hallway, a bemused expression on his face. “So, it went well?”

Elizabeth gave him a small smile. “I think we’re off her Christmas card list.”

Her father chuckled as he ambled away.

***

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