by Beth Massey
Lady Catherine hesitated, but she was not finished spewing cruelty. “You and your sister deserve to be censured, slighted, and despised by every one of quality. Both of you are morally reprehensible, and your alliances will be viewed as a disgrace among the ton. If the two of you were sensible of your family’s honour, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up or expose your licentiousness to scrutiny."
“In marrying your nephew and Lord Colton, we would not be quitting that sphere. They are gentlemen and we are a gentleman's daughters… so far we are equal." Elizabeth who was losing her will to continue this battle, neglected to answer her ladyship on the subject of wanton behaviour.
"Miss Bennet, I am shocked. I expected to find a more reasonable young woman. I am leaving now, but do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever concede. You and your sister will not marry on Thursday." With those words she arose from her chair and pointed her cane toward the door.
Elizabeth unlocked the door as she assumed was the gesture’s demand. She too wanted this interview over, and she was tired of trying to hide her uncertainty. However, she determined to fire one parting shot. “Allow me to say, Lady Catherine, the arguments with which you have supported this extraordinary allegation of both your nephew’s and my degeneracy have been as frivolous as it was ill-judged. I will give Mr Darcy your message."
“You are an unfeeling, selfish girl, without principles and an abominable sense of decency. I am most seriously displeased!”
Elizabeth gave the older woman a push out the door. She knew that if she did not get her out of her sight she would begin sobbing; and her advantage in this macabre play would be lost. As calm as possible given the circumstances, she said, "Lady Catherine, I have nothing more to say. You know my sentiments." The instant the older woman’s body had cleared the doorway, Elizabeth closed and relocked the door. She fell into one of the chairs, hugged herself and began rocking.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh stiffened when the country upstart gave her a push through the door and practically slammed it behind her. She knew the gesture was a sign of disrespect, but the evidence of this young woman’s anger… and yes, even desperation was a good sign. A smug smile graced her countenance as she heard the key turn in the lock. Surely she had found Miss Bennet’s Achilles heel. The fool wanted to marry for love. She had refused a secure life with Mr Collins and had even refused her nephew the first time. A woman with any sense would care less whether her husband planned to dally after marriage, as long as she was the one with the honour of being his wife. Not to mention the one who had the right to the precedence of place and the money bestowed by the settlement. This young woman had no notion of the prize that was Pemberley. She would pollute its value with her hopelessly romantic ideas.
Before she had entered her nephew’s office, she had seen out of the corner of her eye a gaggle of girls with mouths gaping open in disbelief and horror at her words. She was certain she had seen her niece… pale and shaking. She wondered which one had been the future Countess of Blessing. Her hope as she prepared to leave was that she had managed to kill two birds with one stone, and that she was as silly as her sister.
Currently there was only a regal looking young woman with fair hair in the entranceway. She glowered at Lady Catherine as she waved her cane at the footman to open the door for her. The Grecian goddess actually had the audacity to speak, and her words were delivered with a sneer. “You are a despicable woman… I say woman because you are no lady… you have no sense of proper decorum. You said the vilest things about my sister and Mr Darcy… here in his home… in front of his sister and his servants. I see what you are about, and you will not succeed. To be in their presence for only a few minutes is to know how true and powerful their love is.”
Lady Catherine seethed at her words, but refused to be led astray from her mission. She left the house without giving the young woman a glance. Once outside, she stood on the top step of the entrance to Darcy House and looked across the square to the house of which she had aspired to be mistress. Had she been successful she might have been less hostile to her sister marrying George Darcy. What would it have mattered if Lady Anne had not had a title if she had one, and it would have been convenient for their children to be able to play together in the park when in town? Perhaps there might have been more than just one child for her as there would have been no fear that the Earl of Blessing would have brought home a disease to give to her or pass it on to any children she might have.
About a third of the way across the park she saw a very tall young woman supporting another woman. The smaller of the two appeared quite distraught. She smiled with satisfaction at the scene. The one in agony must surely be the object of her vengeance.
19
A MEETING OF TRUE MINDS?
Across Grosvenor Square, Fitzwilliam Darcy was attempting to read. He had found Jon’s copy of Mrs Radcliffe’s The Mysteries of Udolpho. Despite the numerous frightening events that befall the heroine, Darcy could not concentrate. He wore a perpetual smile and his mind kept wandering to the events of the past few days. More importantly his mind wandered to Thursday… to be specific Thursday night and Friday morning. To wake up with this woman who had so bewitched him would be delicious.
Saint James Piccadilly had been graced with most of the Holmes, Bennet, Darcy, Fitzwilliam, Gardiner and Phillips families for Sunday morning services. Lady Sarah and the older Dr Parton were in attendance. There were two notable exceptions not in Church to be gawked at by the parishioners. The Earl of Blessing was unable to attend due to his health, but all who asked were assured he would attend on Thursday. Lady Catherine de Bourgh—Mr Darcy’s aunt—did not attend for reasons of spite, but no one asked for her. Her daughter, Anne, did attend with the Fitzwilliam contingent. With her uncle to back her decision, she had the courage to defy her mother. The show of support had been gratifying to the two couples. No one could imagine even a hint of scandal possible with such an unprecedented show of loyalty.
The gossipy notice in Monday’s paper was filled with the amazing number of family members of the two couples that had descended on London for the ceremony and celebration. Darcy was beginning to relax and feel assured that his plans would finally come to fruition.
Lord Elderton had told him during their conference on Monday that he found Elizabeth just as Richard had described… delightful. Her family, on their own, was deficient in connections—with a bit too much trade to be truly respectable among societies’ best. However, the association with the Earl of Blessing caused their prestige and precedence to increase considerably. His conclusion was that Darcy could do considerably worse. He briefly concluded that he need not speak of the great love that was Darcy’s parents’ aspirations for their children… the spark of magic he saw in both their eyes was proof enough he had heeded their advice. As the head of Darcy’s family, he approved the union, and embraced his nephew while conveying the support of the entire Fitzwilliam family. Further, he pledged he would ensure Lady Catherine behaved.
As Darcy attempted to return to his reading after his recollection of recent events, he heard someone wailing in the entrance hall. Beyond a repetitive cry of, “Mr Darcy, Mr Darcy,” he could not make out the other words. It was a female voice, and she was very distressed. Opening the door to the library, he saw Lydia and Lady Eleanor standing in the entranceway.
Lydia was saying something unintelligible about an older woman with hair like Lady Sarah attacking Lizzy. Instinctually, he knew they needed privacy and motioned to her and Lady Eleanor. Jon, who had been drawn to the sound of Lydia’s howls, picked her up and carried her to the library. He sat with her in his lap on the settee, and cradled her against his chest. “Lydia what has happened, my love?”
She tried several times to speak but could not be understood. Jon spoke to his sister, “Ellie what has happened?”
“We were sent by Miss Bennet to fetch Mr Darcy. An older woman with an old-fashioned hairstyle was speaking loudl
y and vulgarly to Miss Elizabeth. She accused her of anticipating her vows, and being wanton and depraved. Mr Darcy, she said you were marrying Miss Elizabeth so you could continue to visit a courtesan named Bella. Brother, she accused you of marrying Lydia for similar reasons.”
Darcy flung open the door to the library and hurried out of Blessing House. His only thought was reaching her as quickly as he could.
After a number of minutes, Lizzy stopped rocking and unclenched the protective arms from her body. She sat staring at the wall in front of her. Once again, there was a picture of their cottage by Lady Anne. How many renditions of the scene had she painted? The memories of their afternoon tried to slip into her mind, but she refused them entry. There were far too many distractions to consider before indulging in daydreams of pleasure. Despite her intentions, she did notice it was hung in a place on the wall that would allow him to stare at it while at his desk. This errant thought occupied her for several more minutes before she forced herself to move on to the crucial question confronting her.
Humiliation for letting Lady Catherine destroy her composure weighed heavily. She chastised herself—this was not the time to fall to pieces. It was time to think and deliberate what to do with the information the harridan had delivered.
Why had he not told her of this Bella the other night? Her ladyship had implied they had been lovers since they were sixteen. What was the implication of her saying they were ‘involved’, and for so many years? Was she his mistress, or did he pay her each time? She had thought she understood what a brothel was, but Lady Catherine’s words made their acquaintance seem anything but casual commerce.
It was inconceivable she could overlook such a gross breach of the truth. Their wedding would have to be delayed. She was not prepared to say ‘I will’ before God with this hanging over her head. From the moment she agreed to his request to wed… an agreement delivered with the sweat of an encounter of quick, intense—nay, violent—lovemaking glowing on her countenance… she had been dreading her reaction to the second reason for marriage. Those words often came to her, ‘it was ordained for a remedy against sin, and to avoid fornication’ as she thought of her wedding day. Already fearful of her reaction, she had prayed those words would not prompt her to expose her guilt to those assembled. Chief among errant thoughts she dreaded would warrant being admonished by the parson—was her depraved mind imagining him mounting her from behind while blindfolded. Surely, that was the epitome of what God meant by ‘fornication’… humans wantonly deriving such exquisite sensations by acting as animals.
The next words in the ceremony were now complicated by this new knowledge. They would be charged with swearing—or risk having to answer at the dreadful day of judgement—that they had no knowledge of any impediment. What would God make of his plans to continue a relationship with this Bella—if not an impediment? She was certain they would be warned that their union would not be lawful, unless the truth of his intentions was confessed.
She had been planning to go for a walk when his aunt arrived. The fresh air would help to clear her head, and allow her to navigate this fog of fear that had swept in with Lady Catherine’s words. As she headed for the door, she heard a knock. Jane was the one requesting admittance.
Jane embraced her sister with a strength Elizabeth had never imagined possible from her placid sister. She whispered into her sister’s ear, “Banish her words from your mind. She is a woman of no importance, I am certain.”
“She is Lady Catherine de Bourgh… Mr Darcy’s aunt…”
Jane, who continued to astound her sister, giggled. “I told her she was no lady.”
Despite her anxiety, her sister’s words brought a smile to Elizabeth’s face. Jane had indeed, spoken the truth, and Elizabeth remembered several times when she had been struck by the irony of such a title conferred on such a rude personage. At that moment she remembered Mr Collins delivering the advice from his ‘noble’ patroness to abandon Lydia. Luckily, her nephew had had other ideas. “What else did you say to her?”
“I told her she would not be successful, and that anyone who observed you and Mr Darcy could see the power of the love you shared. There was a time your intense looks of affection would have caused me discomfort, but I have learned it is never proper to hide truth.”
Elizabeth stared at her sister dumbstruck. “Jane what has come over you? Before I left for Derbyshire, you were still convinced you had openly displayed your admiration for Mr Bingley. You assured me Mr Darcy was wrong in his contention you were indifferent. For months you concealed from me the pain in your heart placed there by Mr Bingley’s abandonment. What has caused you to be so open with your feelings?”
Jane smiled at her sister’s puzzlement. “Precisely those events you just related. Neither Mr Bingley nor I acted appropriately last year. Currently, I like him… very much; but we are not ready to form an attachment. If we ever do—both of us, and all our friends and family, will be able to observe the certainty of our affection. We will be as transparent in our feelings as you and Mr Darcy are.”
“Lady Catherine’s words have made me uncertain that the truth between Mr Darcy and me is quite so obvious.”
Jane felt apprehensive that her sister’s words were an ill wind that would blow no good… least of all for Mr Darcy, “I have sent for him. He should be here soon.”
Lord Colton rocked Lydia in his arms. While she continued to cry quietly with her cheek pressed against his chest, he would occasionally press his nose to her hair and whisper, “I will protect you, precious one. No one will ever hurt you as long as I am charged with caring for you. That woman spoke lies.”
After several minutes, she stopped sniffling and pulled away enough to look at him. “Who was she? Why does she want to hurt us?”
“I am not certain, but I believe it may have been Mr Darcy’s aunt.”
Lydia shook her head at the news and questioned his assumption, “Why does she hate Lizzy and me?”
Jon’s smile had just a hint of mirth as he concluded, “I believe it is some form of jealousy.”
This prompted a look of incredulity from Lydia, “Somebody is jealous of me?”
“Yes, dearest.” Jon’s laugh was hearty and deep, much as it had been that night at the theatre. “Lydia, you are about to become my wife. Every one—absolutely, every woman—is envious. We make the newspapers practically every day suggesting I have disappointed many.”
He accomplished his goal. She giggled. “Jon, you are teasing me. There are certainly some women in England who are not envious of me. I do not believe my sisters or Georgiana are jealous.”
Jon’s eyes were filled with mischief as he answered Lydia, “Ah, this is a poor start to our marriage, if you believe me to be deceitful. Besides, I am sure I saw a bit of jealousy in your sister Mary’s eyes when first we met… but now that the younger, bigger, stronger and more pious replica of me has come upon the scene… I have been abandoned as the apple of her eye.”
Lydia snickered for him.
After a few more minutes of languishing in his arms, feeling a most delicious warmth creep from her scalp to her toes, she said, “Jon, if you must have others, I will not complain. It is not what I prefer, but I am so very grateful to you for saving me from ruination… and Wickham.”
“Hush, you silly goose! What a pair we are.” Lord Colton gave a mock sigh of exasperation, “Lydia, I do believe you are almost as vain as I am. Your game is to have me describe, once again, exactly how I felt when I saw you at the theatre.”
Her silent laughter was perceived against his chest and he knew she was ready for him to proceed. “Well, I will not disappoint.” Lord Colton pulled her tight and planted several light kisses to her temple. She moulded herself into all the nooks and crannies of his body to await the tale she loved to hear. Wickham had seemed to dislike embracing her except when he felt the urge to spread her legs, climb on her belly and pump. Jon seemed to enjoy touching and holding her, and for her part she believed she could stay
snuggled to him forever. “You, precious love, were precisely what I needed. My life had become a humdrum succession of useless nothings, but the need to fulfil my destiny was beckoning. With eyes open to the possibility of finding someone with whom to share my new venture, I attended a performance of my favourite play. A beautiful vision appeared, with the darkest hair, the palest skin, and eyes that changed colour with her mood. She giggled at my laughter, and when I met her and learned her name was Lydia; I knew she was the one. You gave me purpose… you made me feel new and you excited me as no other woman had for many years. Now that I have found you, I will never disappoint you or risk losing you by being inconstant.”
Lydia looked up at him with smiling eyes to show her appreciation. She whispered, “Oh Jon, just two more days. I am so excited. My dress is beautiful. Do you suppose they will write about what it looks like?”
Jon lifted her chin and returned her smile, “They may. I wonder, if after we are married they will continue to inform their readers about us.” With a playful wrinkle of his nose he added, “I know it is the two of us about which all of London loves to hear on-dits. Your sister and Darcy are entirely too drab to truly capture the imagination of those who devour gossip with their breakfast. Once we are wed, I am expecting every day there will be an update on the progress of our joy. Of course, it would be scandalous if they wrote about the most private part of our life—but it would be oh so entertaining, especially for the ladies.”