by P. O. Dixon
“Catherine!” Lord Matlock shouted.
She glared at her brother. “What have I said that is untrue? You saw it all, and I know you well enough to know you were just as appalled as I was by all that occurred last evening. How might Elizabeth possibly be expected to protect or to serve as an example for Georgiana when she failed to protect her own sister? Worse still, she might just as easily have fallen prey to Wickham’s trap herself. I am convinced she merely lacked opportunity.”
“It is true that Elizabeth herself may have made mistakes in judgment, but she is Darcy’s wife, and she is not to be disparaged.” Lord Matlock turned to his nephew. “I know not how you should go about it, but surely you comprehend the need to put greater distance between your lovely wife and her abominable family.”
His own master since the age of four and twenty, Darcy was not in the habit of following the edicts of others. He did not intend to start that morning. “No disrespect intended, but neither of you has any say in the matter. I am my sister’s legal guardian, as is Richard. What is more, the timing of her coming out is for the two of us to decide.”
An amiable fellow, whose opinions seldom strayed from his younger cousin’s, the colonel made an attempt at rallying to Darcy’s cause. “Here, here,” he asserted.
After giving her nephew a look that brooked no further interruption on his part, her ladyship pierced her nephew Darcy with an equally dismissive glare. “What is there to decide? Georgiana is nearly nineteen. What in heavens are you waiting for? Pray your dear wife, who never had a proper coming out owing to her low birth, is not a factor in your decision. What are Georgiana’s chances of finding a suitable match when all the other young ladies will be seventeen and eighteen? She will have her coming out this Season. My mother, my sister Anne and I were but eighteen when we celebrated our debut in society and Georgiana will be able to boast of doing likewise.”
When the ordeal was finally finished, Darcy demanded that all of his noble relations leave his study. When they were gone, he pushed away from the desk and stretched himself to ease his long legs. He massaged his temple. He was not nearly as impressed with his relations now as he had been at the start of the day. The earl he could easily forgive, for Darcy knew he meant no harm but was merely expressing opinions in keeping with his noble upbringing and his place in their family’s hierarchy. Toward Lady Catherine he was not so benevolent. She had gone too far.
Chapter 8
Lydia barged into Elizabeth’s sitting room with her mother trailing along behind her. “What is the meaning of this, Lizzy? Why is there a maid in my apartment going through my things?”
“It is time for you to take your leave of Pemberley. A carriage awaits you as soon as your belongings are packed.”
Lydia crossed one arm over the other and stamped her foot. “This is all Darcy’s doing. I am certain of it. He has poisoned you against your own sister—your own flesh and blood—and made you forget who you are and what you are about. Who would have thought that my own sister would become so high and mighty?”
To own the truth, Elizabeth had not breathed a word of her intentions to her husband. She had no need to involve him. She loved her sister, of that there could be no doubt. She had spent the earliest part of the dinner party worrying over Lydia’s absence the evening before. Loving one’s sibling was natural and did not require explanation. Allowing said sibling to take advantage of her and exhibit such callous disregard toward not only her feelings but also those of her husband, of Georgiana, and the world in general was not natural and such thoughtlessness should not be tolerated.
“Do not be ridiculous, Lydia. It is your own egregious conduct from the moment you first arrived—uninvited, I might add—that has led to this. Pray learn to accept some responsibility for the consequences of your actions. Did you truly think I would allow you to remain at Pemberley after your blatant disregard for Georgiana’s feelings last evening? You came here for the sole purpose of creating havoc! Well, congratulate yourself on your success. As soon as your bags are packed you will be on your way to your dear husband in Lambton.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, “why on Earth are you banishing your sister to that horrid little inn in Lambton when there is more than enough room here at Pemberley? Is it not bad enough that our dear Wickham has been forced to stay there when he ought to have been here all along with the rest of the family?”
“It’s all Darcy’s fault. He hates my Wickham, and he has turned Lizzy against him too. He is such a mean-spirited bully who always likes to have his own way.”
“Enough, Lydia! You ought to be thankful that my husband allowed you to stay as long as you have. Besides, he knows nothing about any of this. It is my decision for you to remove yourself from my home. Would that I might have acted sooner, and then we all might have been spared the unseemly spectacle last evening.”
“Oh, Lizzy, you are merely jealous that all of the gentlemen were paying attention to me and not you. Is it my fault that I am the youngest and the prettiest? Men naturally flock to me wherever I go.”
Mrs. Bennet nodded. “That is true. Just as it was with me when I was her age—it is now so with my Lydia. That is no reason for you to be jealous, Lizzy, especially when you have managed to secure such a fine husband of your own.”
Refusing to hold her tongue, Elizabeth said, “I intend no disrespect, Mama, but if you are so upset about Lydia’s leave-taking, perhaps you ought to join her.”
“Why! I shall speak to your father at once.” Spinning on her heels and heading to the door, she said, “Mr. Bennet will prevail on you to change your mind about Lydia’s presence at Pemberley.”
~*~
After meeting with his housekeeper, Darcy sat alone in his study in deep reflection of what his uncle had to say about putting distance between Elizabeth and her Bennet relations. Supposing that he wanted to, how could he even broach such a subject with Elizabeth?
Darcy stood and walked to the window. My wife’s family means everything to her—even her sister Lydia. I remember how long it took her to accustom herself to her new life in Derbyshire, owing to its far distance from Hertfordshire and her beloved Longbourn.
Even though Longbourn was entailed to the male line of the family, Darcy had a strong suspicion that Elizabeth would always consider it her home. Her days of youth spent there would live on in her heart and mind for eternity.
Then there was the matter of their unborn children. Surely Elizabeth would wish for her children to know their maternal relations just as he would never wish to deprive them of their paternal family.
In some ways, his children would have the same type of concerns as he faced as a child. The Fitzwilliams were as steeped in aristocracy as any of the great families in England. Their acceptance of his father and the Darcy connections that it brought would never have happened had he not been from one of the oldest and richest landed gentries in Derbyshire. It was generally known that the greatest wish of his maternal grandfather, the late Earl of Matlock, was that his daughter Lady Anne would marry a peer.
Even his aunt had married a man who was not a peer—Sir Louis de Bourgh. Then again, he was one of the richest men in Kent and had received his title as a result. An ‘honorary’ title combined with great fortune washed away all of the late earl’s possible objections.
No doubt, if Elizabeth’s father could boast of such wealth and connections, his uncle would never have suggested such a thing as he had. Darcy crossed the room and poured himself a drink. He certainly felt he needed it after the morning he’d had. He took a sip. Deeper reflection gave him to consider that it was not merely the Bennets’ lack of fortune and connections that informed his uncle’s speech. It was the matter of Elizabeth’s roots in trade and the ensuing consequences therein, as well.
Yes, Mrs. Bennet can be vulgar, but if one were to erase the trappings of wealth that surrounded many of the people of the ton, would they be described as anything different? Such thoughts led him to ponder the way h
is parents’ love for each other had withstood those diverse aspects of their families and specifically the manner in which his mother and father had reared him.
Painful recollections will intrude which cannot, which ought not to, be repelled. I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. As a child I was taught what was right, but I was not taught to correct my temper. I was given good principles but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Unfortunately, an only son, and for many years an only child, I was spoilt by my parents. Though good themselves, they allowed, encouraged, almost taught me to be selfish and overbearing, to care for none beyond my own family circle, to think meanly of all the rest of the world, and to wish at least to think meanly of their sense and worth compared with my own.
Such had been his speech to Elizabeth when he had attempted to shed some light on how his upbringing had formed his opinion of others for the better part of his life. There were some lessons that one did not have to learn. He would not make the same mistakes with his children. He could not even if he wished it, for Elizabeth would never stand for it. Together they would raise their children to show compassion for others with unpretentiousness and impartiality as opposed to self-importance and bias. With prayer and good fortune, their children would be people whom both families would proudly embrace as their own.
Darcy had but one obstacle standing in his way and thus the purpose of his earlier meeting with Mrs. Reynolds. Now he only needed to brace himself for the resulting onslaught.
No sooner had he finished his thought than Colonel Fitzwilliam walked into the room. He made his way directly to Darcy’s finest spirits and poured himself a drink. He silently begged his cousin to join him. Darcy declined, pointing out his own half empty snifter. His drink in hand, the colonel took a seat in his favorite chair.
“I feel I ought to apologize to you and your lovely wife for arriving too late for her party,” he began. “It could not be helped. From the sound of things, I missed out on quite a lively evening.”
“I would rather not discuss it,” said Darcy.
“No doubt your mind is busily engaged with more recent events. Do you believe our aunt Lady Catherine will act upon her threat to seize Georgiana’s guardianship?”
“She can try, but her efforts will be wasted.”
“Then you are not at all concerned that she might very well prevail?”
“I am not. However, I am livid that she threatened me. It was a grave mistake on her part, and now she must live with the consequences.”
“What are you planning, Cousin?”
Before Darcy could respond, Lady Catherine pushed the door of his study open and barged into the room. She said, “What on Earth is the meaning of this, Nephew? Why are my belongings being packed without my instruction? I plan to remain here at Pemberley for the rest of the week to allow my niece ample time to accustom herself to the fact that she will be leaving Pemberley and coming to live at Rosings.”
“Did you think I would allow you to remain in my home after you blatantly disparaged my wife and threatened to remove Georgiana from my supervision?”
Lady Catherine picked up her bejeweled walking stick and pointed it at Darcy. “This is all Elizabeth’s doing. I am certain of it. She has poisoned you against your own aunt—your own flesh and blood—and made you forget who you are and what you are about. Who would have ever thought that my own nephew could be brought so low?”
“I have heard enough, Lady Catherine! You ought to be thankful that I allowed you to remain here at Pemberley for as long as you have, especially given that you arrived—uninvited, I might add—with the sole purpose of wreaking havoc and ruining my wife’s first formal dinner party. Well, congratulate yourself. Take a bow, and then be on your way. You are no longer welcome in my home, and I shall assume that I am likewise unwelcome in yours. You and I shall be strangers to each other.”
“And this is your real opinion! This is your final resolve! Very well, Nephew,” cried her ladyship. “I see exactly what you are about, and I shall now know how to act.” In this manner, Lady Catherine talked on, until she was at the door, when, turning hastily round, she added, “I take no leave of you, Nephew. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”
A row of stately carriages was lined up outside the manor house. A small assembly of Bennet relations stood beside the one in front—the one intended to convey Lydia to Lambton. The remaining carriages were for Lady Catherine and her party. Elizabeth had been wholly surprised to see the other awaiting carriages when she accompanied Lydia outside. Her surprise gave way to unabashed curiosity when Lady Catherine hobbled outside, followed by her humble servant, Mr. Collins. Darcy appeared next with his cousin Anne on his arm. The colonel followed along behind the two of them.
Lydia must have been surprised as well to see another rather distinguished guest was taking her leave from Pemberley amid protest that was not unlike her own. Her mouth agape, she silently stared until she arrested Lady Catherine’s attention. Before Lydia could fashion a response that must surely be inappropriate given this new development, Mr. Bennet handed her into the carriage and stepped away. He then signaled Lydia’s driver to be on his way.
With Lydia gone, Mr. Bennet escorted his unhappy wife inside the manor house, leaving Elizabeth to join the others. Her eyes questioning, she commenced walking to where Darcy, Anne, and Richard stood.
“Fitzwilliam?”
“Elizabeth, my love, I’m afraid my cousin will be taking leave of Pemberley along with Lady Catherine. However, I have assured her that, unlike her mother, she is always welcome in our home.” He looked at Anne and then placed his hand on hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Have I not, dearest Cousin?”
“Indeed you have, Cousin.”
Elizabeth said, “I trust you had a pleasant stay, Anne, despite all the fuss.”
Lady Catherine poked her head outside the carriage. “Come along, Anne. You are wasting your time and mine talking to those two. They are nothing to us now!”
After handing his cousin into the carriage, Darcy and Elizabeth watched as it pulled away. Unlike the colonel, who was in a hurry to get back inside the house, the former two stayed there until Lady Catherine’s carriage was completely out of sight. No doubt both were equally pleased to see her gone.
Darcy took his wife by the hand. “I believe we have to prepare for this evening’s festivities with the tenants, my love.”
“Indeed. Although, now that we have gotten rid of our two most troublesome houseguests, what could possibly go wrong?”
“I do not know, but whatever it might be, I have no doubt we shall persevere, so long as we face it together.”
Chapter 9
Nine months later …
By now, Jane and Bingley resided in a neighboring county to Derbyshire. Elizabeth and her dearest sister were happily settled within thirty miles of each other. Even Bingley’s sisters were gratified by their brother’s move. Mrs. Bennet, on the other hand, was not happy at all to lose the right to boast of her eldest daughter being mistress of such a magnificent estate—its greatest charm being its proximity to Longbourn Village. True, the Bingleys’ new home was every bit as grand as Netherfield Park, but who among her circle of friends would ever have a chance to attest to it for themselves?
To Jane and Bingley’s dismay, the Wickhams had come for a visit soon after the former took ownership of their new home, and they had been frequent guests ever since. During this most recent visit, the high-spirited couple had been there for weeks with no sign of an imminent leave-taking, despite Bingley’s repeated hints for them to be gone.
Elizabeth would not have wished such a fate on anyone, especially the kind-hearted Bingleys, but she could not help feeling that it was better the two of them suffer Lydia and Wickham than Darcy and her. The matter of a different pending visitor filled her head.
“Our guest should be arriving soon,” Elizabeth said to her husband.
“What guest is
that, my love?”
She raised an exasperated brow.
His question having gone unanswered, he glanced up from his book. He knew that look well. “What did I say?”
“Why, you know very well that we are to entertain Mr. Alston Bingham this evening. Georgiana has been looking forward to his visit all week.”
Darcy chose not to dwell on the imminent guest with good reason. He did not like the fellow. Out of nowhere, he had entered the Darcys’ life claiming a connection. A cursory investigation of the family line gave proof to his claim. He was indeed a distant cousin. What a dilemma this entire affair had posed for Darcy. Family meant everything to him. He and Georgiana were not nearly so well acquainted with their Darcy relations as they were with his mother’s side of the family. He could no more deny his sister this chance to get to know her third cousin than he would keep her away from the Fitzwilliams.
Darcy said, “You sound as enthusiastic as you profess Georgiana to be. I caution you, however, that, should match-making be your design, you are wasting your time. That gentleman does not stand a chance in the world of winning my sister’s hand, regardless of his connection to our family, which happens to be the only thing he can boast of.”
Such was her husband’s opinion. Elizabeth suspected that Georgiana had a different view of the matter. “Is that for you to say, Mr. Darcy?”
“Indeed it is. It is my duty to see that my sister makes an excellent match.”