by Zoë Burton
“Elizabeth, Mr. Darcy.”
“Papa, how are you?”
Mr. Bennet sighed. “As well as can be expected. I apologize for your mother. I could not get to her quickly enough to stop her tirade.”
“Thank you. It helps to know that you did try.”
Darcy, though he had been calm and pleasant with his friend and Elizabeth’s sisters, was still angry. “It would be better coming from your wife, sir.”
“I agree, it would,” Mr. Bennet nodded his agreement. “However, even as humiliated as she currently is, I do not believe she is capable of apologizing yet. She has requested we return to Longbourn, but I refused. I think it would be better for her to stew in it for a while. There is nothing quite like a set-down from one’s friends to make a difference in one’s outlook.”
“We shall expect one sooner or later. Certainly, before we resume a relationship with her. I will be implacable on this. No one is ever going to get away with treating Mrs. Darcy in such a contemptible fashion, not even her mother.”
“Your stance on the matter is the correct one. I have already relayed to my wife more than once the consequences of her behavior, as well as your expectations. Though she has not appeared to understand in the past, I believe this night has gone a long way to teaching her this.” Mr. Bennet paused, then turned back to Elizabeth. “I think we need to continue to follow our plan for letter-writing. It is not ideal, but until your mother changes her opinions and behavior, it is better not to test her. I will make certain your sisters come to visit. Have your plans changed as far as the length of your stay here at Netherfield?”
“No, we still plan to stay several weeks. I will act as hostess for Mr. Bingley while we are here, and I look forward to hosting you and my sisters and the neighborhood.” Elizabeth turned her head into Darcy’s arm to smother a giggle when he groaned. “Do not worry, my love, I will protect you from the nosy gossips.”
Darcy and Bennet shared a laugh at Elizabeth’s words. “Thank you, dearest Elizabeth. What would I do without you?”
“Oh, I do not know? Shrivel up and die, perhaps?” She winked at Darcy, causing another burst of laughter from the gentlemen.
“You owe me a dance, minx. Come, let us do it now. Mr. Bennet, please excuse us.” Bowing to his father-in-law, Darcy led his laughing wife to the ballroom and straight to the lines of dancers.
The couple finished the evening together, never separating, and always remaining on the opposite side of the room from Mrs. Bennet. They accepted the well-wishes and commiseration of almost everyone they spoke with. Word of Elizabeth’s mother’s downfall had spread quickly, and nearly everyone agreed that it was a long time coming, and well-deserved. At the end of the night, the couple returned to their chambers at Netherfield, eager to put the events of the night behind them and to find solace in each other’s arms.
~~~***~~~
Three days after the assembly, Elizabeth accepted a visit from her four sisters. Darcy and Bingley remained at home for the visit, Bingley so he could see Jane and Darcy so he could remain as close to his new wife as possible.
Elizabeth, having hugged all four sisters, invited them to sit as she rang for tea. She quickly gave Mrs. Nichols, Netherfield’s housekeeper, instructions and then rejoined her family. She sat for a moment, just admiring them and thinking about her delight in hosting them in a household she was running, then, smiling widely, she asked how they were.
“Oh, Lizzy, you look so happy!” Kitty was impressed with the marriage her sister had made.
“I am happy. Fitzwilliam is such a dear man. I could not have asked for a better husband. We are perfectly suited to one another.”
“He is very fine looking, that I know,” Lydia interjected. “He is a bit too serious for my tastes, but as long as you like him, that is all that matters.”
Glancing at her husband and seeing his blush, Elizabeth chided her youngest sister. “Lydia, he is sitting right beside me. He can hear you.”
“What? I said he was attractive. Why should that embarrass him?”
“Lydia!” Both Jane and Elizabeth spoke at once. Looking at each other, they rolled their eyes and smiled.
“This is a common occurrence, Mr. Darcy,” explained Mary. “My elder sisters think similarly about the behavior of young ladies and often rebuke one or the other of us at the same time, though I suspect they do not mean to.”
“I see. I admit I find it amusing to watch, though I am the object of Miss Lydia’s remarks.”
“La, Mr. Darcy! You had best get used to plain spoken ladies. Lizzy is not one to keep her opinion hidden. Is she, Kitty?” Lydia nudged her next eldest sister with her elbow.
“Oh, not at all!” Kitty giggled behind her hand.
Elizabeth set to pouring out the tea, handing cups around to everyone. “Let us change the subject before anyone else becomes embarrassed. What is happening at Longbourn?”
“I almost forgot! Papa’s cousin has come!” Lydia almost spilled her tea in her excitement at being the first to share the news.
“His cousin?” Elizabeth looked to Jane for clarification.
“Mr. Collins, the heir. He arrived yesterday afternoon. Mama was beside herself. Papa had not said a word about his coming until just an hour or so before his arrival.”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, my. On top of what happened with me, I can imagine Mama was beside herself.”
“She called for her salts within a half hour, I would say.” Mary’s tone indicated her amusement. “She insisted that Mrs. Hill hide the good china and silver.”
“What was he like?” Elizabeth was curious. There had been a breach between the two branches of the family for a long time, and though she knew no details, she was aware that her father did not hold his heir apparent in very high esteem.
“He is tall, rather like Mr. Darcy,” Kitty began.
“But not as svelte. In fact, I would say he is rather fat.” As usual, Lydia spoke bluntly. “And he smells. Mama insisted that he bathe before dinner.”
“Lydia is correct, though she should have spoken softly.” Mary threw a glare at her youngest sister but then turned her attention back to Elizabeth. “His hair was greasy, as well; it could have been pomade, but his smell was so strong that I suspect he had simply not washed it for a while.”
Elizabeth’s hand was over her mouth. Darcy and Bingley had begun coughing to cover up their laughter.
“And…did Mr. Collins bathe?”
“Oh, yes,” Jane assured her. “He tried to demur, but Mama informed him in no uncertain terms that Longbourn was still under her jurisdiction and that as long as it was so, anyone sitting at her table would do so in a clean state of being.”
“He almost fell over, he bowed so low.” Lydia laughed.
“Why did he come, I wonder? Surely after all this time, he would have no reason to visit.” Elizabeth was perplexed, wondering what on earth the gentleman was thinking.
“Oh, that is easy enough,” Kitty began. “I heard him telling Papa he wished to ‘heal the breach’ between the families, whatever that means, and that he had an olive branch to extend to us.” Kitty shrugged. “It made no sense to either me or Lydia.”
“No, I did not understand it at all.”
“An olive branch?” Elizabeth looked at Darcy, who shrugged.
“I do not know, my love, but I suppose we will soon find out.”
THE END
Lady Catherine Impedes
Acknowledgements
First, I thank Jesus Christ, my Savior and Guide, without whom this story would not have been told. We have been through some stuff in the last couple months, haven’t we? I’m so grateful for second chances! I love you!
Additional thanks go to my partners in “crime”, Rose and Leenie. Your love and gentle support have been vital to me. I’m so glad we’re friends! <3
A huge thank you goes to my Patreon Patrons. Gail, Eileen, and Angela have been instrumental in helping me name original characters,
and in cheering me on with comments on blog posts, among other things. All of your support means the world to me, and I am so grateful for you all! <3
Chapter 1
Elizabeth Darcy and her husband strolled the grounds of Netherfield early in the morning. They had been married for a fortnight, and were staying with Darcy’s friend, Charles Bingley, in his leased estate. Elizabeth’s childhood home, Longbourn, was three miles down the road, but they had not visited there since their marriage. Elizabeth’s mother had vehemently objected to the union, believing that her least favorite daughter did not deserve to marry so high, nor with such strong feeling.
“Do you hear that?” Darcy asked as he stopped their progress and tilted his head toward the drive at the front of the house.
“It sounds like a carriage. I wonder who it could be, so early in the day?”
“I suppose we shall soon find that out, but I suggest we not cut our walk short. Mrs. Nichols will send someone for us if we are needed.”
Elizabeth agreed, and the couple strolled further into the gardens. Not long after, a footman approached with a message and she and Darcy made their way into the house.
“I wonder at my father coming here so early. I hope Mama is not making more trouble.”
“I doubt that she is. Your father has said that she has been rather subdued since the assembly. Your sisters mentioned that your cousin is visiting. Perhaps Mr. Bennet has brought him here to meet you.”
“That is likely. I suppose we will find out momentarily.” Elizabeth smiled at her husband as he escorted her into the house.
As they entered the drawing room, Elizabeth saw at a glance that Darcy’s guess was correct, for standing in a group within were all four of her sisters, her father, and a gentleman that perfectly fit the description her sisters had given her just days ago.
After greetings had been exchanged between Elizabeth and Darcy and her family, Darcy asked for an introduction to the stranger.
“Mr. Darcy, this is my cousin, Mr. William Collins. He is to inherit Longbourn on the distant day of my demise. Mr. Collins, this is my second daughter, Elizabeth, and her husband, Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire.”
Mr. Collins bowed to each of them as he was introduced. The obsequious man was spewing forth a massive and non-stop amount of greetings to and praise for their condescension in receiving him when Darcy’s name struck him. He stopped speaking for a full minute, causing his audience to look at each other in confusion. Just as swiftly as he ceased talking, he started up again. “Mr. Darcy! Are you perhaps the Mr. Darcy who is nephew to Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings Park in Kent?”
“I am.” Always a gentleman of few words, Darcy was wary of anyone connected to his Aunt Catherine.
“How wonderful! I did not realize that I was making the acquaintance of someone as exalted as you, sir. Please forgive my lack of due respect. Lady Catherine is my esteemed patroness; she has, in her graciousness and condescension, granted me the living at Hunsford.”
“Ah; I see.”
“I am happy to report to you, sir, that your aunt and your esteemed cousin were in excellent health last I saw them, which was just a week ago.”
“That is good to hear; thank you.”
Mr. Collin’s expression suddenly turned to confusion. He turned to Mr. Bennet. “Did you just introduce Cousin Elizabeth as Elizabeth Darcy, sir?” At his cousin’s confirmation, Mr. Collins became solemn. “I am afraid that is not possible, Mr. Bennet. My esteemed patroness has declared him to be engaged to her daughter. Why, two days before I left my humble abode, they were planning the wedding ceremony, which they assured me was to be held at Christmas.”
“They what?” Darcy was incredulous at his family’s presumption, a feeling that was clear in his voice.
“I said, sir, that your aunt and cousin…”
“I heard you the first time,” Darcy snapped. “I am amazed that you would gossip about your benefactress in such a manner.”
Collins gasped. “Gossip! I would never gossip!”
“And yet, by speaking to me of the activities of my relations, you have done just that. I can assure you, sir, that I was never engaged to Anne de Bourgh. Anything Lady Catherine has said regarding such an engagement was speculation on her part, paired with a long-held desire for the event. I have never been under any obligation to my cousin; in fact, I have frequently stated to both my aunt and her daughter that I would not marry where I did not choose.” Darcy grasped Elizabeth’s hand once more, placing it on his arm and caressing it. “I have made the appropriate choice. Elizabeth Darcy is the perfect wife for me. She will run Pemberley House and my other homes admirably.”
“But Lady Catherine-“
“Enough!” Darcy barked the word, his deep voice carrying an authority that few would dare cross. “Regardless of what my aunt and cousin may or may not have done or said, I have never been engaged to Anne. I refuse to discuss it further.” Darcy bowed to Elizabeth’s father and sisters. Turning to his wife, he lifted her hand, kissing the back of it. “Will you be well if I leave you, my love?”
Elizabeth stroked his cheek with her free hand. “I will. Shall I come find you after my visit?”
“Please do.” He darted a glance at Mr. Collins and then leaned in to whisper in Elizabeth’s ear. “If he does not stop talking about my supposed engagement, please send for me, and I will throw him out personally.”
“Very well. I love you.”
Darcy brushed her lips with his, repeating her words, then turning and walking out the door.
Elizabeth watched his progress across the room. Her gaze remained on the empty doorway for a few moments after he disappeared from it, thoughtfully considering his words to Mr. Collins. Darcy had told her about his aunt’s proclamations—delusions, he called them—of a marriage between him and his cousin, and that neither his mother nor his father had ever given him any inclination that it was the wish of either. With kisses and words of love, he had tenderly assured her that she was the only woman he had ever wished to marry, and that he was perfectly happy with his choice. She smiled to herself at the memory. Finally coming back to an awareness of where she was, Elizabeth asked her guests to be seated and poured the tea that had come in just as Darcy had gone out.
Conversation between Elizabeth and her family flowed with loving banter and teases. Mr. Collins remained quiet, put out by the great Lady Catherine’s insolent nephew. Of course, he dared not speak about his offence. The gentleman was high above a lowly clergyman, and his patroness did like to have the distinction of rank preserved. He thought it highly likely her nephew felt similarly. He was, however, upset.
There had been a division of long standing between his branch of the family and Mr. Bennet’s. Mr. Collins knew not what the cause of the breach was, but he had heard from his own father’s lips it went back a couple generations, perhaps more. Being a clergyman, Collins rather thought it behooved him to heal the breach. He had heard, through connections of his own, that there were five Bennet daughters, and his original thought had been to marry one of them, thereby extending an olive branch and healing the rift.
His surprise upon his arrival at being told there were only four daughters had been immense. Mr. Collins had not thought his contact could have gotten it so wrong. Of course, with the delicious dinner spread out before him, he could not keep his mind focused on that conundrum, and so waited until after-dinner drinks with Mr. Bennet to ferret out the information. He was greatly surprised to hear that there was, indeed, another daughter, and that she was staying at a nearby estate. Mr. Collins insisted on meeting her.
And now, to learn that this cousin had stolen Miss de Bourgh’s betrothed away! It was no wonder she was being shunned by her family. I must write Lady Catherine about this travesty! Mr. Collins waited impatiently through the remainder of the visit with the Netherfield residents, eager to regain his room at Longbourn and write out an express.
On the way back to his future home, Collins made his disple
asure known to Mr. Bennet. He was made even less happy by that gentleman’s response.
“I am sorry to have so inconvenienced you, Mr. Collins. Perhaps, when you are married, you will understand that there are times when it is best to appease your spouse to retain peace in the household. For now, it will have to do for you to simply leave me to my business and attend to your own.” With that, the Bennet patriarch turned his head to the window and refused to speak further. His daughters, daunted by their father’s unusually harsh tone of voice and their own dislike of their cousin, said nothing for the entire three-mile trip.
The carriage had no more than stopped when Mr. Collins leapt out and hastened into the house. The coachman was forced to leap backward to stay out of his way. Clearing his throat and pulling down his coat, the servant strode forward to put down the step and hold the door, allowing the master to exit and hand down the young ladies.
Inside the house, Mrs. Hill was just as taken aback as the coachman had been, for just as she reached for the handle to open the door, it flew in. She flattened herself against the wall to avoid the flurry of motion that was Mr. Collins.
As for that gentleman, he hastened up the stairs and to his room, pulling out a quill and paper and composing a missive to his patroness. Using as many flowery terms as he could cram into the page without crossing lines—for Lady Catherine despised crossed lines in a letter—he relayed the story of her nephew and his cousin’s daughter. He then rang for a servant, giving strict instructions as to the delivery of the letter.
Chapter 2
The next day
Rosings Park, Kent
Lady Catherine de Bourgh was just finishing her tea when her butler entered, carrying a silver salver and informing her that she had received an express. Setting her cup back on its saucer, the mistress of Rosings picked up the single letter that sat on the tray, dismissing the head servant with a nod.