"Where is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?" she demanded, before spying that young lady sitting with her sisters. "Miss Bennet, I require a private audience immediately! Take me to that prettyish wilderness in the garden."
Confused and utterly out of her element, Elizabeth got up and followed, losing her wits only so far as to only remember telling her father of the visitor through Lydia and Kitty. "Tell Papa!" she mouthed frantically as she moved as quickly as possible to keep up with the swift Lady Catherine.
"You can be at no loss, Miss Bennet, to understand the reason of my journey here. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come."
What can she be talking of? Elizabeth exclaimed mentally, not daring to voice her astonishment. But in a much more composed voice than the surprised puzzlement in which she found herself, she answered, "Indeed, you are mistaken, Madam. I have not been able to account for the honour of seeing you here." The sarcasm in her tone was inaudible to all but William, had he been there.
Lady Catherine looked miffed. "Miss Bennet, you ought to know that I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness" – here Elizabeth thought, I would rather think over-frankness, your ladyship – "and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it.
"A report of a most alarming nature reached me two months ago, though I was unable to act upon it due to Anne's suddenly falling ill. I was told that not only was your sister on the point of being advantageously married, but that you, Miss Elizabeth Benet, would, in all likelihood, be soon afterwards united to my nephew – my own nephew – Mr. Darcy. Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood – though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible – I instantly resolved on setting off for this place" – she spat the words distastefully – "that I might make my sentiments known to you."
That was surprising, Elizabeth thought in a bemused alarm. How on earth – but of course. Jane was engaged sometime in March, the month I visited Charlotte. Charlotte or Collins must have written about my staying there, and about all the nephews – including William – calling at once. It did not take her long to realize that his being the intimate friend of Charles, and her being the sister of Jane, would of course bring about talk of another engagement, as one wedding always makes people wild for another. It would not have helped that they were seen much together in company. All this was in less than a split second, and she scrambled to collect her wits enough to reply, "If you believed it impossible to be true, I wonder you took the trouble of coming so far. What could your ladyship propose by it?"
Of course she could just have confirmed the rumours, but she doubted Lady Catherine would have been very pleased – besides, did she not like a bit of fun?
"At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted," replied the Lady sharply.
Elizabeth smirked inwardly. Thereupon she chose to act as though she was not engaged to William, nor had any expectation of being so. "Your coming to Longbourn, to see me and my family will rather be a confirmation of it – if indeed such a report is in existence."
"If!" Lady Catherine sniffed. "Do you then pretend to be ignorant of it? Has it not been industriously circulated by yourselves? Do you not know that such a report is spread abroad?"
"I never heard that it was." That, at least, was true.
"And can you likewise declare that there is no foundation for it?"
"I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. Some of your questions may be ones I choose not to answer."
"This is not to be borne, Miss Bennet – I insist on being satisfied. Has he – has my nephew made you an offer of marriage?"
"Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible." And yet it is the wonderful truth!
"It ought to be so, it must be so – while he retains the use of his reason. But your arts and allurements may, in a moment of infatuation, have made him forget what he owes to himself and to all his family. You may have drawn him in."
"Even if I have, I should be the last one to confess it."
"Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine snapped, looking more and more impatient by the second, as if trying to teach a particularly stupid child; "do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this. I am almost the nearest relation he has in the world, and so am entitled to know all his dearest concerns."
"Then you may ask him for the satisfaction you wish for, your ladyship, for while you may be entitled to know his dearest concerns, you are not entitled to mine. I must have you know that such behaviour will not induce me to be explicit.
"Let me be rightly understood!" Lady Catherine exploded. She did not shout, but she said it with an angry force that told Elizabeth she was working up, like a young nursery-pupil, to a tantrum. "This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never. Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?"
Engaged to dear Anne! Elizabeth nearly burst out laughing. "Only this," she replied with perfect composure, but sparkling eyes, "that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me."
Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, but was back again, full venom:
"The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favourite wish of his mother as well as of hers. While they were in their cradles, we planned the union, and now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished in their marriage, to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? To his tacit engagement to Miss de Bourgh? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?"
"Yes, and I have heard it before," said Elizabeth, laughing inside while managing to keep a straight face. She had heard it from Collins, and from the people involved themselves. William and Anne had both assured her that they would never have fulfilled it, faithful as William was to the memory of his mother.
"But what is that to me?" she continued. "If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and his aunt wished him to marry Miss de Bourgh. You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage – the completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honour nor inclination bound to his cousin, can he not exercise his free will and made another choice? And if I am that choice, why may I not accept him?" Really, what objections can you have that cannot be blown away with the puff of a breath? She was enjoying herself far too much.
"Because honour, decorum, prudence" – Elizabeth could have roared with laughter! – "nay, interest, forbid it. Yes, Miss Bennet, interest, for do not expect to be noticed by his family or friends, if you willfully act against the wishes of all. You will be censured, slighted, and despised, by everyone connected with him. Your alliance will be a disgrace, your name will not even be mentioned by any of us."
Already Elizabeth had six contradictions to that statement: Georgiana and William's five cousins, including Sir Ernest. And so she lightly returned, "These are heavy misfortunes, but the wife of Mr. Darcy must have such extraordinary sources of happiness that she could, on the whole, have no cause to repine." How could anyone regret marrying you, William?
'Obstinate, headstrong girl! I am ashamed of you! Is this your gratitude for my attentions to you last spring? Is nothing due to me on that score?" – What attentions? Happening to have me sitting in the same room with you as you babble your 'advice' counts for nothing – "Let us sit down. You are to understand, Miss Bennet, that I came here with the determined resolution of carrying my purpose, nor will I be dissuaded from it. I have not been used to submit to any person's whims, nor have I been in the habit of brooking disappointment."
Oh! It was far, far too much! The laughter she had been struggling to hold inside since the first sentence of this new speech bubbled up and burst out of her. She laughed and laughed till she held her sides from it, while Lady Catherine watched in stunned bewilderment, rather like a cow that has been hit on the head and knows not from what direction, while watching the chickens fly figure eights with perfect grace.
"Why do you laugh, girl?" her Ladyship demanded of her. "What is so amusing?"
"I shall be very frank with you, your ladyship – it is you who is so amusing!" Elizabeth gasped for breath as she doubled over. "I apologize for my rudeness, but to hear all this makes me think you have lived in a safe bubble all your life.
"First of all, that marriage would not have been successful in the long run. To marry a sickly and weak woman – as you daughter undoubtedly is – to a man would make it hard to produce a healthy heir as it is. Add to that the fact that they are first cousins, and that would make that even harder. Through their union, you might have united the great fortunes of Rosings and Pemberley, but finding an heir to that wealth would have been difficult. Bloodlines must be mixed to be healthy, Lady Catherine – any farmer or breeder could tell you that."
Lady Catherine bristled. "They are descended, on the maternal side, from the same noble line, and on the father's, from respectable, honourable, and ancient – though untitled – families. They are destined for each other by the voice of every member of their respective houses, and what is to divide them? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune! It is not to be endured. It shall not be. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you were brought up."
"In marrying your nephew I in fact would not be quitting that sphere. He is a gentleman, I am a gentleman's daughter – so far we are equal."
"True – you are the daughter of a gentleman. But who is your mother? Who are your aunts and uncles? Do not imagine me ignorant of their condition."
"If they are nothing to your nephew, they can mean nothing to you."
"Tell me once and for all, are you engaged to him?" Lady Catherine almost shouted, and Elizabeth's lips curled as she imagined the prim, older lady stomping her foot like Lydia in a tantrum.
Elizabeth would not have answered this question, for it would not please her to anger a guest, but in all honesty she was forced to say, after a moment's dilemma: "I am."
Lady Catherine's anger was immediate. She ranted at Elizabeth and stormed about the wilderness for some minutes, expressing anger of the most violent and resentful kind, anger that Elizabeth was doubtful even William was capable of.
As if her thoughts had drawn him to her, William suddenly emerged from the Longbourn side of the garden. "Elizabeth? Elizab – my God!" this last being said when he spied his aunt.
"Darcy!" she well-nigh yelled at him. "Whatever entanglements she has trapped you in, she has no hold upon you. The family shall rally around you against this woman – she will not stand a chance! Release her from this nonsensical engagement – and it is high time you proposed to Anne!"
William clenched a fist, Elizabeth for the first time noticing a letter in it. "Aunt Catherine, what are you talking about?"
"I am urging you to listen to your senses and drop this sham of an engagement to – to this Miss Bennet. Whatever wanton compromises she has forced upon you, the combined influence of the Fitzwilliam and Darcy families shall back you."
"Wanton compromises?" William seemed genuinely puzzled.
"Whatever situation she has you in, whatever she has offered your baser needs – you must remember your duty, nephew!" Lady Catherine waved her fan at him wildly.
Finally William seemed to realize. "Oh! You mean this, I suppose, aunt." He purposefully strode over to Elizabeth and bowed formally. She returned it with a curtsey, confused, and was shocked into blushing when he suddenly leaned forward and kissed her with a possessiveness she had never felt before. One hand was captured by the wrist, held up in the air, and her other hand cupped his neck. His other hand encircled her waist.
He held her tight against him, his body against hers, and she could feel every curve and edge of it. When he finally broke away, wind brushed against Elizabeth's lips and emphasized the empty space. William smirked and glanced in Lady Catherine's direction, and she winked, clearly feeling the shocked disapproval radiating off of the older woman.
Eyes sparkling with glee, William turned back to his aunt. "Is that what you were talking of, Aunt Catherine? For I quite believe that instead of her entrapping me, it is I who have compromised her! Although," he added, looking to Elizabeth, "I must say she has quite compromised my heart." She smiled as he flashed her a roguish grin.
"This is outrageous!" Lady Catherine exclaimed furiously. "Have her for your mistress if you please, but do not make the mistake of marrying her! Do your duty, nephew, and marry Anne as your mother wished you to do!"
His cerulean eyes hardened in anger. "I, as it happens, have no intent of marrying Anne, and at any rate she is already engaged."
Lady Catherine's eyes blew to an almost unbelievable size. "TO WHOM?!" she demanded.
William produced his letter with a wicked smile. "Read for yourself, Madam." Her eyes devoured line after line until they grew even larger. "Richard Fitzwilliam?!"
Elizabeth laughed delightedly. "So he took the bait, did he?"
Her fiancé smiled. "Indeed he did."
"I am happy for them" was all she could say as she clutched William's arm in bliss. Jane was happy, Anne and Richard were happy, Lydia and Kitty were as happy as they could be without actually going to Brighton yet, Mama was happy, and Papa was at least happy to have gained a sensible son-in-law. All of these added to her own immeasurable happiness, making her heart almost burst from joy. In that moment, she wished happiness upon everyone in the world, even Lady Catherine and foolish old Mr. Collins.
William's eyes twinkled brightly and his lips lifted into a brilliant smile. In that moment, the discomfort and entertainment provided by Lady Catherine de Bourgh were entirely forgotten. "I would like to kiss you again," said he, "but I fear that it would lower me in my aunt's esteem far too much to recover – not that I ever cared much for it."
"So my Anne is to be a soldier's wife, and wander in misery all her life when she could have been Mistress of Pemberley had Darcy done his duty?" Lady Catherine snarled, crumpling the letter.
"Lady Catherine." William's voice was threatening. "Richard is to retire three months hence. He is almost thirty and while still young by society's standards, he would like to settle down. Alex promised to give him the Northampton estate – you know the park itself is almost five miles round and the land almost twice that. True, not Pemberley, but not poorly by any means." Though consoling, William's voice had kept to a firm tone.
"And this land, has it any riches to go along with it?"
"Rosings should have been enough to restart the estate," William reprimanded sternly, "had somebody not been overspending and decorating in extravagant nothings." It was clear who he meant, and she gaped at him before snapping, "Would you rather I appear like these Bennets of Longbourn – poor as a church-mouse, barely able to afford coal in the grate? Would you rather I was miserly and refused any decoration at all?"
"To be quite honest with you, yes! Better to look as poor as a church-mouse than actually to be as poor as a church-mouse!" William thundered. "I would rather you be miserly and able to provide your daughter with a dowry than extravagant and in debt! In case I have not made my case to you clear in years past when I have come to manage your accounts – you exceed your budget! You wave me off and say 'There is enough' but no! If you spend too much on furniture there will not be enough for coal; too much on fine tapestries and you will not be able to lay a table; too much on the upkeep of horses you mistreat so badly as to have to replace them every five years and you cannot buy clothing! Really, Aunt Catherine, I thought you had better sense. I must be mistaken."
She was left spluttering as William placed his hand on Elizabeth's back and escorted her back to Longbourn.
Soooo... did you like how our OTP handled Lady C? Review pls! (lol I'm totally not begging for review right now...)
Thanks! I'll be back ASAP! ~Alex