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A Wicked, White Cravat
by Anton M.
Chapter 9: Lady Catherine
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Georgiana felt like a stone had lifted off her chest. She had worried herself sick over how to tell her brother about the extent of her near-elopement, and before she had met Elizabeth, Georgiana had finally decided to take her secret to the grave. She was ready to pretend it didn't happen.
But she hadn't counted on her own brother's engagement to be a result of a public kiss, and it had allowed her to hope for his understanding.
On Friday morning, she felt apprehensive. Her brother's forgiveness had been beyond her wildest imaginations, and a part of her was scared that she had dreamed it. Another part felt unsure if his perception of her had changed and if he would be more strict with her, moving forward. Would he ensure that she never walked a second without a chaperone? Would Georgiana grow to resent him for her lack of freedom? Should she tell her new sister about her mistake, and would she forgive her?
Georgiana arrived quite early to the breakfast room.
She could hear her brother humming before she could see him. She could see his reflection in the mirror in the hallway, and he had stopped to fiddle with his hair and tear off his cravat only to wrap it around his neck again. When he entered the breakfast room and greeted Georgiana, she smelled cologne.
She did not know Darcy owned cologne.
If she needed any proof of her brother being in love, she had it, and it was adorable.
Two weeks ago, she would have thought anyone delusional for even thinking it. Her brother was tall with a grave countenance and not a smile in sight. He often seemed severe and haughty to anyone in society, and had intimidated many a man higher than his station.
She did not know of him having entertained any women, and she had never been sure if his heart had been touched and he had simply never spoken of it. She would never have dared ask. The previous evening had been the most open conversation she had had with her brother, and they had certainly never spoken of love or, virtue, as explicitly. Now, seeing him, this William, this new man, piling bread on top of his plate before reaching for anything else in sight, humming to himself while still fiddling with his hair, it filled Georgiana with such gratitude she did not know how to express it.
Elizabeth had a most unexpected effect on her brother, and Georgiana had never realised, or acknowledged, how worried she had been for her brother for taking on so many responsibilities and so many troubles at such a young age, and she had done nothing but add to them.
How could she ever repay Elizabeth for causing such a change in her brother?
Her brother spoke to the various employees who came to ask for his advice during breakfast, his steward, the housekeeper, the stableboy. All had details to clarify before his departure. Once everyone had left, Darcy started reading the The Gentleman's Magazine that had arrived in the morning, and Georgiana observed him in silence until she could no longer hold in her question. She dismissed the servants before calling our her brother's name. He looked up.
"Do you see me differently now?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Darcy set aside his magazine and put down his food before looking at his sister for a quiet moment. He took time to assess her question, and consider his honest answer.
"Yes and no," he said, slightly more serious than his mood had otherwise suggested. "I thought I would, but I cannot. With time, perhaps, I can grow to acknowledge that you're no longer a child and that I cannot always protect you from the world. You are your own person. But for now… I look at you, and I see the same girl who adores the piano and had her heart broken much too early. I fear I cannot help it."
"Thank you." Georgiana smiled, touched by his honesty.
"I do not think I deserve credit," he replied. "Yesterday, I… I admit I was not myself after you told me what had happened, and I went for a walk. I found myself at the Gardiner's, soon, and asked for Elizabeth."
"At such an hour!"
"Yes," he said. "I could not help it. And do you know what she did?"
"What?"
He blushed, but he also knew that his sister, of all people, would understand. "She… she let me hold her, and she did not ask a thing. Not anything. I was— I was in such a state, and instead of satisfying her curiosity, she… she offered me what I needed most, and I did not even realise it. When I came back, I realised that I had— my response to you was all about me and not about you."
Georgiana had unshed tears in her eyes.
"Oh, I did not mean to—"
"No, I'm happy," Georgiana said, smiling through her tears. "I did not know such a woman could exist, and exist for you."
Darcy's eyes filled with softness.
"You had better not do anything to drive her away before your marriage, like telling her such nonsense that you would have never offered for her had she not compromised you. Or that her family is unsuitable. You are no longer in a position to judge, I'm afraid, and I am determined to have her as my sister."
Darcy took a breath, folding his magazine to take it to Netherfield before he started fiddling with his cravat again. He paused.
"I do not have the skills to… how am I to make her care for me, as I care for her?"
"Just continue as you are."
"But if I tell her one more time that I love her, and she does not respond, I do not know how I can take it."
"You are not thinking of calling it off if she does not say it back, are you?"
"No!" he almost shouted. "I would never. It is just such a hope, and fear, and…" He stopped, staring at his food. He could not explain the exhilaration and joy or the fear and depth of his feelings, and did not continue.
"You said some hurtful things to her about her family and connections. Does she know that you no longer hold these things against her, for she could not change them even if you did?"
"It has been… implied."
"Do we not have eccentric mothers in our acquaintance among the ton?"
"Yes, but they are—" Darcy stopped himself before he realised what he was about to say.
"They are wealthy, and therefore considered eccentric, not uncivil? I do not disagree with you, but imagine the hidden insults that our aunt can deliver in such a way that calling her eccentric instead of uncivil is merely a matter of luck in birth and marriage."
Darcy's sister had grown up more during her four months in London than Darcy had been willing to admit, and he gave her a small smile before continuing to eat.
Georgiana looked at her lap and fiddled with her fingers. "Thank you for continuing to treat me as we were. I was so afraid that you would punish me with your silence."
He knew that a month ago, he would have. But learning to live with her mistake, in the light of the morning, was easier than he would have feared, and he did not think he could, or should, punish her more than she was punishing herself. He still felt part of the blame and certainly blamed Wickham for taking advantage of a young girl believing herself to be in love, but he was learning to accept it.
"And you are sure you do not wish to join us in Netherfield today?"
"No, I have some stores to visit with Mrs. Annesley and you know I could not attend the ball. I would much rather see if I can help prepare Elizabeth's room to her specifications. I will be there next week."
After their conversation in the library, Darcy had sat on the cold carpet of the room that his mother had spent much of her last days in. He had wondered if his mother would've handled Georgiana's revelation better, or if, indeed, Georgiana had ever done such a thing had their mother been alive to guide her.
Would she have approved of Elizabeth? Would she have been disappointed to know that Darcy had been so proud of his birth and station that he nearly drove away the only woman whose presence he had needed in his life? He remembered his mother's kindness, her stubbornness, her last days, and in the darkness of the night, Darcy felt bittersweet that this room was to never be the same.
In the morning, however, before heading downstairs, he took one final look at the room that was to never be the same, and he felt tremendous relief. The room, as it was, had too much filling it, and he was eager to empty the emotions it evoked for Elizabeth and himself to fill the room with her laughter and joy and, hopefully — eventually — love.
He touched the wallpaper one last time, tearing off a small slice of it, and smiled to himself as he headed for breakfast.
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Bingley and Darcy, both eager to exercise after the stationary living of London, met the rest of the travel party in front of the Gardiners' house on horseback. They jumped off their horses to help lift luggage into the carriages, and when both families appeared, Darcy sought out Elizabeth for a few words.
Frederik was sitting on the side of her hip, and when the boy refused to leave her lap, Elizabeth whispered something in his ear. He slid down, walked up to Darcy and tugged at his breeches. Darcy crouched to hear the boy.
"Are you sad, Mr. Darcy?"
Not used to children, Darcy cleared his throat. "I was sad yesterday, yes."
Frederik hugged his leg. "Lizzie will make you less sad. She gives the best hugs!"
He ran away.
Darcy stood, speechless, while Elizabeth stepped closer to him. In his vicinity, she felt the faintest smell of a cologne, a deep, leathery scent, and she enjoyed it as much as she thought she imagined it.
"I see that I have competition," Darcy said, smiling.
In the morning light, Darcy felt the weight of the many liberties she had allowed him, and was most aware of the eyes on them.
"I only wanted to thank you," he said quietly, stepping to the side to cover her body from view. "For yesterday."
Elizabeth's eyes softened, and she took his hand in hers. "Do your troubles feel lighter today?"
"Yes," he replied. "I did not think they would, but they do." He paused, apologetic. "I might discuss it with you, one day, but for now, it is not my trouble to share."
"You need not feel sorry for being a man who is held in others' confidence."
Her answer was so simple and lovely that he nearly stole a kiss in full view of the children. Instead, he smiled and held her hand.
Meanwhile, Elizabeth was distracted by his cravat. It was not the one she had made him. She had not expected him to wear it, for she knew her handiwork was excessively imperfect, but she still felt a pang of sadness. She determined to develop her stitching and embroidery skills so that he would not be ashamed to wear the things she made.
An incorrectly folded newspaper tore her from her thoughts.
"The Times," he said. "It is the announcement of our wedding. I thought you might like to read it in the carriage."
"Of course!" Elizabeth squeezed his hand. "I would be delighted. Is it scandalous? Do they reveal how we got engaged?"
"I will leave you to discover it for yourself."
"Would it be terribly inappropriate if I assume this newspaper to be mine to do as I wish?"
"Not at all." Darcy smiled. "I have another copy."
They walked to the carriage.
"Are you going to ride all the way to Hertfordshire on horseback?"
"Yes. My gelding gets restless when not exercised often, and I admit I enjoy that about him. I rarely take him to town, but when I do, he has the award of a long ride ahead of him."
The party set out in three carriages, with Bingley keeping Darcy company in the front. Elizabeth's attempts to read the announcement were hindered by the cobblestones, but she pulled it out once they left London's borders.
The announcement was not a scandalous read although its tone was that of surprise. It praised Mr. Darcy's character and his estate, mentioned details of Elizabeth's family in a most generic manner, but it also suggested that she had stolen his heart months ago. Elizabeth did not believe it to be the truth, but it did make their engagement sound like an anticipated love marriage. Elizabeth was relieved by the contents and felt the article to be quite precious.
Her mother might frame the newspaper, she thought with unexpected warmth.
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Elizabeth did not hate the town nearly as much as her father — in fact, she found its change and idiosyncrasies quite diverting. She did not expect to resent the time she or Darcy, or both of them, would need to spend in town, but she could not deny that she was a country girl at heart. No chaperoned walk in London could replace the solitude and fresh air of the countryside, and so, she welcomed the sight of Longbourne.
Within minutes of stepping in the door, however, it became rather clear that most of Longbourn's inhabitants had not missed her. Specifically, she had barely untied her bonnet before Lydia ran up to her, crying.
"How could you do this to me?"
Before Elizabeth could react, Kitty appeared on the library door with a book in hand. "Lizzy didn't do anything."
Their mother appeared, ushering the footman upstairs before holding out her hand for Elizabeth's bonnet. "Lizzy, is it true that you drove a wedge between your youngest sisters?"
Elizabeth stared at the commotion.
"It is not her fault," Kitty repeated quietly.
"Why did you tell Kitty not to play with me anymore?!" Lydia cried, eyes swollen from tears.
"Come along, come along," Mrs. Bennet said, taking Elizabeth's hand the moment she had taken off her coat and boots. Their mother rushed all three girls into the empty sitting room and made Elizabeth sit.
Elizabeth was confused enough to forget her hunger and exhaustion from the journey.
"Stop blaming Lizzy," Kitty repeated, sitting on the settee Elizabeth settled on. "I took a little bit of advice from her, that is all."
"She made you boring!" Lydia whined. "You don't want to have fun anymore!"
"We have plenty of fun," Kitty said. "We played outside with ribbons, we learned cribbage that father so loves…"
"But we used to do these things all day! And you started admonishing me for laughing at Esther's nose! You are different now, and it's your fault!"
Lydia pointed at Elizabeth, who felt responsible enough that she did not refute Lydia's words.
"Now, now," Mrs. Bennet said. "What did Elizabeth tell you?"
"Stop blaming Lizzy!" Kitty repeated, squeezing Elizabeth's hand in apology. "I just asked about how to improve one's character, and how to, one day, recognise a gentleman I would connect with. That is all."
"But why would you ask her?! She knows nothing! Lizzy is boring—"
"Lydia," Kitty said quietly. "Whatever you think of our oldest sisters, they are the ones with offers of marriage. Not you, not me, not Mary. If you are as determined as you seem to find a husband, it would only be reasonable to ask advice from the only people in the household who have recent offers of marriage from men of genteel birth."
"Well, if you are to take advice from her, why don't you just kiss a—"
"Lydia!" Kitty raised her voice, and Elizabeth stared at her sister in amazement. "You are being wilfully ignorant if you believe that incident came out of thin air. Every servant in our household will confirm to you how unsurprised they were by the offer just because of how Mr. Darcy always behaved around Lizzy. That incident is not what I am referring to, and you know it."
Lydia hid her eyes in her forearms on the top rail of the chair she sat on.
"But why must you admonish me for laughing at the servants? It is all in good fun! Did she tell you not to do that, too?"
Kitty and Elizabeth looked at each other.
"No," Kitty replied. "She just told me to observe how our servants and guests behave around you, and, by extension, me."
Kitty looked ashamed.
"What do you mean?" Mrs. Bennet asked. "What do you mean, how do they behave around us?!"
Elizabeth shut her eyes for the words she knew would come.
"They do not respect you," Kitty said quietly.
"Catherine! How dare you!" Mrs. Bennet shouted, standing up. "My own daughter dares to suggest that my servants do not respect me!"
"Not just you," Kitty replied, determined to carry this conversation through now that she had started it. She tried to hold her head high, as she had seen Lizzy do so many times before, and she always admired Lizzy for it. Kitty had apologised to the servants for not always treating them as she should have, and they had graciously accepted it, but she still felt shame for her previous thoughtlessness.
"They are under our employment!" Lydia said. "They do not have to respect us, they only have to obey us!"
Elizabeth and Kitty both grimaced.
"I will call Mrs. Hill here right now and prove you wrong," Mrs. Bennet said.
"You will do no such thing," Elizabeth said, standing up.
Mrs. Bennet's face turned red. "You cannot stop me! I will prove it to you!"
Elizabeth walked in front of the door, standing still. "Mama, I forbid you from doing so, and if Papa were here right now, he would do the same. You cannot ask any of the servants if they respect you, if that is your intention. It would put them in a most undesirable situation for they depend on you for their living."
Mrs. Bennet puffed up her chest, intending to shout Mrs. Hill's name.
"If you are so certain that they respect you, you would not need the confirmation, would you?"
Mrs. Bennet huffed once, passing Elizabeth, and yelled for her husband. It was Elizabeth's preference that this conversation take place between her parents rather than her mother and their housekeeper, and she went back to sit next to Kitty. Lydia ran upstairs.
"I am sorry," Kitty said, squeezing Elizabeth's hand. "I did not know this would happen! I did not do much. I only spent more time reading and embroidering, and I apologised to all our employees for treating them less than how I ought to have treated them."
"I am proud of you," Elizabeth replied, and Kitty beamed under her praise. "And the rest is not your fault."
Kitty hesitated. "I do like to have fun, and I like to have fun with Lydia. But I never realised how dependent she is on me, and now that I have discovered it, I am suffocated! She cannot fill her own time without other people, and I cannot have a second of free time without feeling how offended she is."
"That, too, is not your fault," Elizabeth assured. "She will learn, in time. We have to try to be patient with her."
Kitty paused, thinking. "Thank you for— for opening my eyes to my ways. Now that I observe how others react to Mama and Lydia, I cannot help feeling shame for how our neighbours and servants must have held me in contempt."
"You are young, Kitty, and you are dear to us. We none of us are without flaws."
"Yes, but Esther almost cried when I went to apologise to her! She thought she had done something wrong and started apologising for it before I even said a word!"
Elizabeth squeezed her hand, feeling Kitty's shame so acutely she needed not add to it.
Elizabeth asked Kitty to wait before she left the room. When Elizabeth joined her again, she was carrying a small parcel. Kitty opened her gift with delight, and discovered a book of patterns and five pieces of cloth, all in shades of pink and all made of silk, and Kitty hugged her sister.
"You are a most talented embroiderer," Elizabeth said with a smile. "I can only hope to be half as good as you are, one day."
Elizabeth had bought An Introduction to the Science of Botany, 4th edition, for Mary, published just the year before, and left it on her table. For her mother, she left an exotic flower from Darcy's collection and the newspaper with the announcement of her wedding on her pillow. Then, Elizabeth requested that Mrs. Hill share five assortments of diablotins to the bed of each servant in their house (including Mrs. Hill herself).
Finally, she knocked on Lydia's door, and when she received no answer, she stepped in. Lydia was lying on her bed, face turned away, and Elizabeth hesitated before she sat on the chair next to her head, holding her gift.
"You do not have to forgive me," Elizabeth said quietly. "Or at least, forgive me any time soon. It is under my influence that Kitty has begun to act differently, and it is understandable that it takes a while for you to get used to it. Regardless of how you feel, you are dear to all of us and our words and actions are born out of love, however resentful you may feel of them."
Lydia sniffed, and although she did not say anything, Elizabeth could tell that she was listening.
"But, I want to tell you, I think that you are a clever girl, cleverer than what you show, and I, if I may, would like to ask you to observe all the women in the ballroom tonight who are engaged or about to be engaged — and there are more than Jane and I. You are young, and you are free to have fun, but if your aim is a sensible marriage, observe how the women who are most sought out by genteel men, behave. If you wish to feel affection and respect in your marriage, it is important to not only have ideas about the kind of man you're interested in but to be the kind of woman that gentlemen wish to spend time with.
"But you have all the time in the world, Lydia, and I wish you would not be in such a rush. You could have years of dancing and joy before the responsibilities of a wife are upon you, and I encourage you to also think about the things you would lose if you were to rush into anything."
Elizabeth left the parcel on the table, and when she finally sat down in the bedroom she shared with Jane, she forgot about helping her aunt Eleanor with the kids and fell asleep in the clothes she had worn for the journey. Jane only woke her up a few hours before the ball was to start.
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Darcy stood next to Mr. and Miss Bingley by the front door, welcoming guests in the torchlight. It was a beautiful, starry night, with a few recluse clouds interrupting the moonlight.
Darcy felt nervous but determined to hide the fact, and when he rubbed his chest for the third time in five minutes, Bingley leaned closer.
"Are you quite all right, Darcy?"
"I'm fine," he replied.
"I am tempted to call the doctor," Bingley said with no a joke in his tone.
"What? Why?"
"All day, you've been rubbing your chest. My father, just hours before passing away, did the same."
"There is no need," Darcy said. "I am not in pain."
"I insist," Bingley said, whispering a few words to his sister before climbing upstairs. Darcy quickly caught up to him and pulled him to a nearby empty room.
"Bingley, I'm fine," he repeated. "Just nervous."
"But you keep rubbing your chest!" Bingley said, upset that his friend would rather die than admit that he was experiencing pain.
Darcy, thankful that the room was too dark for Bingley to detect his blush, pulled out his linen cravat from his chest pocket. It was white enough for Bingley to detect it in the moonlight.
"I cannot wear it because I am sure I will stain or rip it. I'm just making sure I haven't lost it," and it's close to my heart, he added. It was infinitely precious to him and he was convinced that his wearing it would result in its ruin, and he feared for his emotions should he let something happen to Elizabeth's gift.
Bingley squeezed his friend's shoulder as he laughed. Even in his wildest dreams had Bingley never thought that Darcy could be more obvious about his feelings than Bingley, and yet, the day had come.
"Come," Bingley said, patting his friend on the back. "They'll be here soon."
When they arrived, Darcy was jittery with nerves (although determined to be more discreet than his friend had suggested). He helped the Bennet women and Mrs. Gardiner out of the carriages, and pulled Elizabeth slightly closer as she hopped off. Her eyes sparkled, and Darcy could not believe that he had ever thought her older sister more beautiful than Elizabeth. He was convinced that he had found the most beautiful woman in England.
"Mr. Darcy," she whispered.
"Miss Elizabeth," he replied, as if her whispering his name didn't cause his heart to beat faster.
The Bennets arrived late enough that most guests had already arrived, and so, they joined the rest of the guests in the ballroom. Miss Bingley, whatever her misgivings, was a fantastic host, and the guests, all in their best clothes, were clearly enjoying themselves. Elizabeth did not take offence when Darcy closed into his usual, severe-looking self, but she was surprised to feel his hand rest gently on her back.
"Miss Elizabeth, may I have the first dance?"
Elizabeth smiled and curtsied, surprised and thrilled by the offer. She accepted.
"And may I also have the last one?"
"Of course, sir." Elizabeth, touched by his consideration, was aware of the many eyes on them.
"And any that are left in between?" he whispered against her ear. She lifted her chin to see his face, but he looked away with an inscrutable expression.
"Sir, I was under the impression that you are not fond of dancing," Elizabeth said. "You need not make such a sacrifice for me."
"I am not fond of dancing with the wrong partner," he replied. "I have heard that my future wife is most fond of dancing and that she is excellent at it. It is barely a sacrifice to spend time in her company."
Elizabeth curtsied, feeling the rush of his words, and after Bingley had secured her second dance and Mr. Gardiner her third, she and Darcy walked to the dance floor together.
When the Minuet begun, Darcy remembered Elizabeth's affinity to talk during dancing, and struggled to come up with a topic he would not wish to be private. Soon, however, he saw her distracted glances towards her family and asked, "Is your family in good health?"
"Yes," she replied, embarrassed to have been caught distracted for she enjoyed his company very much indeed. "I fear I may have caused a rift between my sisters, and it weighs on me."
"How was it caused by you?"
"Kitty— my sister Catherine, she asked advice about how to find a husband she could learn to love and respect, and I may have given her advice that damaged her friendship with my youngest sister."
She shared broken details of what had happened when they were closest, careful not to share too much in public, and they both observed her sisters. Catherine stood next to the Gardiners, silently observing the crowd, until a gentleman she was clearly acquainted with asked her for a dance. Instead of giggling, Kitty curtsied, smiling, and accepted the dance.
Lydia, on the other hand, was sulking on the side of the ballroom, and Mrs. Bennet was nowhere to be seen.
"I did not wish for this, but I admit it has had a most astonishing effect on my sister Catherine."
Darcy and Elizabeth were sorry for the dance to be over, but Elizabeth witnessed, in amazement, how her future husband, looking tall and grave as ever, walked up to her sister Catherine and asked her for the next set. After her acceptance, he bowed, walked directly across the ballroom and asked Lydia for a dance, which she accepted with wide eyes.
Elizabeth, amazed beyond belief, was about to comment on the most singular act of her future husband to her aunt Eleanor when Darcy walked to the door of the ballroom and bowed to a woman Elizabeth could not see. Then, when he returned to them, Elizabeth witnessed her mother, blushing furiously, staring at the back of her betrothed.
The interludes between dances were spent on new introductions, and Elizabeth was touched as she watched Darcy dance with her youngest sisters and her mother. She wished she could've had the liberty of refusing a few sets to observe them from the side of the ballroom, but her own dancing had no effect on the emotions his actions had stirred. It was an act of such kindness, done with such casualness and respect that Elizabeth felt the change in Darcy most strongly.
Relieved that her sixth set was left open, Elizabeth was eager to find a slightly more secluded corner to show Darcy just how much she appreciated his thoughtfulness, but it was not to be, for Darcy approached her with two people of high station.
"Lord Henry, the Earl of Ashbourne, and his wife, Countess Margaret. Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my future wife."
Elizabeth curtsied with appropriate gravity. They made small talk but followed her with piercing eyes, and Elizabeth felt a little bit unsettled in their gaze. She could not tell if they liked her or hated her, but she was not easily intimidated by rank or station and did not let her uncertainty show. When Darcy squeezed her hand and whispered that he would go and make further introductions, Elizabeth was glad for a moment to gather herself.
However, the room fell silent when another, older woman of high rank appeared on the door, and Elizabeth, although having never seen the woman, could almost certainly guess her name.
Elizabeth felt eyes on herself, for she was the single object of the woman's gaze.
Dancing and laughter continued when Darcy made further introductions, and Lady Catherine separated Elizabeth from the comfort of her family so efficiently and silently that Elizabeth soon found herself being asked for a private audience with the woman.
She had no choice but to accept, and although a part of Elizabeth wished to draw Darcy's attention to the fact that Elizabeth was to leave the ballroom with his aunt, another part of her was curious enough to allow it. When Lady Catherine found an empty room, a second sitting room by the end of the hallway, she called for a servant to light all the candles in the room before demanding them to leave.
Lady Catherine stood completely still, assessing Elizabeth, and Elizabeth refused to show the slightest sign of intimidation.
"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, you cannot have any question about why I have asked for your audience tonight."
"On the contrary, Your Ladyship, I cannot imagine to what I owe the honour."
"The honour!" she repeated, as if the word was below her. "Do not play games with me, Miss Bennet. You ensnared my nephew, Mr. Darcy, with a public compromise to rely upon his honour to do the right thing. Do you deny this, Miss Bennet?"
"I do. I do not deny that I compromised him, but the rest was his choice alone."
"If he had not proposed marriage to you, you would have been ruined!"
"Perhaps, Your Ladyship. But I could also have allowed my family to cut all connections to me and become a governess in London. It would have kept their reputation intact and I would have, quite possibly, led a life of contentment alone."
"You are not serious!"
"I am. I did not force your nephew to propose to me."
Elizabeth saw Darcy and Bingley enter the room with the Earl and the Countess. Lady Catherine's back was to the door, and she did not see them.
"Mr. Darcy has been engaged to my daughter Anne since their infancy! Now what have you to say for yourself?"
"If your perception of Mr. Darcy's honour is correct and you presume him to have proposed to me because of it, I do not see why he would have done so had he felt honour-bound to your daughter."
"It is because you compromised him!"
"Do you not think that a man of high station such as Mr. Darcy could have easily denied me with no consequence to his person, had he truly wanted to do so?"
"Tell me at once — are you with child?"
"I am not. I could not be."
Lady Catherine took a breath, as if not having expected her denial. "That is good, at least."
"It does not make my marriage to your nephew any less likely."
"Foolish, head-strong girl! What is your price?"
"I do not comprehend what Your Ladyship means."
"There cannot possibly be anything else in this for you than money. Tell me at once, what is your price?"
"I refuse to believe that you would degrade yourself to a level so insulting to my person."
"I demand you tell me your price! When will you leave Mr. Darcy alone? Is it £10 000? £15 000? £20 000? You cannot be serious, it cannot be more than that!"
"It is," Elizabeth replied, locking eyes with Darcy.
Darcy was conflicted between letting Elizabeth stand up for herself and ending this commotion at once. His fascination with her arguments won out, and he was proud beyond measure to see someone, anyone — his fiancée — stand up to his aunt.
"How much?"
"A life of affection and respect."
Lady Catherine puffed her chest and took a breath. "You are just a country chit with no manners, no money and no connections!"
"I am not currently the person who is screaming insults at a gentlewoman they explicitly consider to be lower than them. I may have no money and no connections, but I do have my manners, I thank you."
"You have nothing, nothing valuable to offer to my nephew! You seduced him with your feminine wiles and hope to bring him an heir from your country-bred hips."
"I do believe you contradict yourself, Your Ladyship. If I have nothing valuable to offer to your nephew, how is it that I also have feminine wiles and country-bred hips that are so useful in bringing about an heir?"
"You will fail as the Mistress of Pemberley!"
"I will certainly have to learn a lot, but I doubt Mr. Darcy is concerned for he would not have offered for me had he considered the task to be above me."
"You know nothing of the tasks before him as the Master of Pemberley! Your failure to support him in this will result in the ruin of his estate. Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"
Elizabeth stepped forward, almost at the edge of her sanity and manners, and for the first time, raised her voice.
"Your Ladyship, I have never been thus insulted in my life, but your presumption of my knowledge is beyond redemption. Through your excessive spending, you yourself are responsible for the disastrous failure of the Rosings estate, which must boast a loss of £1000 per year. You have fought against all updates and cut the salaries of your most loyal employees for your failure to do the first. You appear to have fired the third steward this year, who, like all the others, must have suggested all reasonable courses of action which you dismissed for your insistence to change nothing and yet, spend without limits."
Lady Catherine took a few steps, and when she turned around, saw their audience. She turned red.
"You are lying! How do you know all of this? Who told you?"
"How could I be lying while also having a source for my information?"
Lady Cathrine fumed, and Elizabeth continued, "Nobody told me, Your Ladyship. I have an interest in managing estates, and there is plenty of public information available about Rosings. The rest I picked up from all the conversations I've had with anyone from Kent."
"Nobody has shamed me thusly in my life!"
"I am relieved to hear that, Your Ladyship, for I can share the sentiment."
Elizabeth curtsied, still energised by the extended argument with Lady Catherine, and recognising that the Earl was eager to talk, greeted the Earl and the Countess appropriately.
"Is this true?" the Earl asked, turning to his sister. "What Miss Bennet just said, is it true?"
"Of course it is not true," Lady Catherine denied, and stiffened when she saw Elizabeth performing all the right social protocols in order to walk away.
"Miss Bennet! I am not done with you!"
"I regret to inform you that I am done with you, Your Ladyship. Thank you for this interview. There is nothing further that we could possibly have to say to each other."
So much anger and disbelief flowed through Elizabeth that she halted to a stop in front of Darcy and looked him in the eye.
"And these are the connections you regret I do not have?" Elizabeth snapped, curtsied, and rushed out the door. Darcy ran after her and took hold of her arm.
"Elizabeth," he whispered, apologetic and in awe, all at once. He was amazed by her strength and intelligence, bewitched by her passion, and so bewildered by the whole ordeal that he felt like, had he seen this exchange a year before in Rosings, he would have fallen for her, unaware of her family, connections or money.
He wished he could pull her into an empty room to show her just how awed he was by his future wife. But, of course, he did not.
"I just need some fresh air," she said. "I would prefer some time alone, thank you."
His eyes were pleading. "You cannot—"
"My father will accompany me," she replied, still angry but also not stupid enough to walk around alone. "I will be safe."
Darcy reluctantly returned to the second sitting room and sat in an armchair not too close to his relatives. They were engaged in the same argument.
Bingley approached Darcy, uncomfortable-looking but attempting to smile. "If you have no need of me, I shall take my leave and find Jane."
"Please do," Darcy answered, more tired than he had realised. "This might go on all night."
Bingley shook his head in disbelief but did not disagree. He patted Darcy on the shoulder and left.
Darcy was envious of Bingley.
Darcy was a hypocrite, and never had he felt more so than now. He had considered Elizabeth's family to be inappropriate, but whatever their misgivings, they had never accused him of anything even close to what his own aunt had accused Elizabeth of. On the contrary, when Darcy had been led by false rumours and his own fear to believe that Elizabeth was a light-skirt, Elizabeth and her father had both ensured that his lack of knowledge of his future wife was understandable and he could have an audience with any member of the family to confirm her virtue.
He had considered her younger sisters to be ridiculous and utterly unaware of the expectations of society for their behaviour in public, and now he himself, perhaps as a revenge for having such thoughts, had a sister who had lost her virtue. She looked so innocent and lovely, and nobody would dare even think such a thought, but it was, after all, the truth he had to get used to.
Then, he had, on the first few days of his engagement to Elizabeth, accused her of compromising him for his money.
It was no wonder that Elizabeth had not expressed her love for him — it was a wonder she had not found another man to get married to in a rush to avoid Darcy!
How had he had it all so wrong? Two weeks ago, he would have said that Elizabeth had everything to gain from a marriage to him and he had everything to lose.
Today, listening to his relatives bicker about the dwindling income of Rosings, he felt the opposite. Darcy would gain a father, or a man as close to a father he would ever have, and he was a good, honest man. He was correcting his past mistakes. Darcy would gain a mother and sisters, flawed as they were, and an uncle and an aunt with well-behaved, sweet children. He would gain a whole family, and he had resented Elizabeth for it!
"Darce, how did Miss Bennet come to know about the income of Rosings?"
Darcy, frankly, had no clue, and he would ask her later, but for now, he did not care.
Neither Darcy, nor, apparently, his relatives, had ever suspected Rosings to be on the verge of failure, and Elizabeth had spoken about it as if she had intimate knowledge of it. His future wife was a force to be reckoned with, and he swelled with pride, thinking of her intelligence.
"Perhaps her cousin Mr. Collins, aunt Catherine's parson, said something."
"No — he cannot have that knowledge! He would not even understand such a thing!" Lady Catherine said.
"Then, I fear you will have to ask her yourself. But, given your prior treatment of her, I would be surprised if she felt generous with her information."
His uncle Henry approached Darcy, and as his uncle started pacing in front of him, grumbling to himself, Darcy absent-mindedly wondered if that's where he got his pacing habit from.
"Think clearly, Darce. Are you really ready to connect yourself with an insignificant country family such as the Bennets?"
"Yes," Darcy replied without hesitation. "Mr. Bennet is a gentleman, and Elizabeth is a gentleman's daughter. I see no hinderance to our union."
"But, your— Miss Bennet, she has no money, no connections…"
"Clearly, we are in no position to judge anyone's connections given how your sister just treated my future wife."
"I do not agree with her accusations, but what could you possibly gain from such a union?"
"Love, respect, honesty, and a most equal wife with a singular interest in estate matters. A role model for my sister and, hopefully, an affectionate mother to our children. Did I miss anything?"
"Darce, love is not all, and you can receive all the other things from from wealthier, better connected women."
"I will have to disagree with you there. I spent ten seasons in London, looking for one. If they exist, they were certainly not in my sphere, and certainly did not carry the qualities that would have piqued my interest."
"And you are sure that she is not a mercenary?"
"I am amazed that you would want to ensure that Miss Bennet is not a mercenary in one sentence and tell me that I need for find a wealthier wife in the next. Which one is it? It is a credit to her for not being a mercenary, and yet, I should be one?"
The Earl, frustrated with Darcy's answer, paused and took a breath. "Darce," he said, quietly, changing his tone. "Will you not think this through?"
"The reading of the banns is done. The Times has announced our engagement, and together with Mr. Bennet, we have settled £30,000 for her future. You are too late."
The Earl whitened. "£30,000? Are you out of your senses?! Is Miss Darcy to have no dowry?"
"You do not know me well at all if you think I would've touched what rightfully belongs to my sister. No, there was no need."
"But £30 000! How can you afford such a cost without the ruin of Pemberley?"
"Uncle, public estimation of my presumed income is from ten years ago. In this time, much has changed. I assure you, no ruin of the estate is expected, and if I were worried, my future wife's most singular interest would be sure to soothe any anxiety. That is all I will say on the matter."
He stood up, bowed, and left the room, pretending not to hear his aunt's offended voice calling his name.
: :
Elizabeth found her father in the corner of a drawing room, but when he was occupied by a game of cribbage with Sir William Lucas and she could not find the Gardiners, Lady Lucas and Charlotte offered to escort her in the garden. Elizabeth obliged. Lady Lucas could be a gossip, but neither would take offence if Elizabeth did not participate in their conversation and walked in silence instead.
She would have vastly preferred to walk alone, but Charlotte's words about her vulnerability had left their mark on her. Elizabeth would not be rash, even if she wanted to.
The night air was crisp with a few clouds passing the moon. The old moon had started to shrink, but just barely, and it cast shadows on the oak trees around Netherfield. A few people were out on a walk and Elizabeth was certain that a couple was hiding in the shadows of the most distant stable.
Together, they set out to walk around the lake reflecting the torches of the path. Elizabeth heard music from the distance but she was too deep in thought to recognise any single tune.
She did not fault Darcy for his relations, neither did she fear that Darcy would break off their engagement due to her impertinence. It was clear that he was embarrassed by his aunt's behaviour, and she trusted him to have more depth of feeling for her than to break off the engagement over a few heated words. What surprised Elizabeth was how little embarrassment or regret she felt regarding her own behaviour — she had humiliated Lady Catherine in front of her relations, and yet, she could not feel sorry for having done so.
Was she right to have defended herself to a lady so decidedly above her in station? Would Elizabeth come in between Darcy and his relations by not allowing lies to discolour their engagement? Was she arrogant to assume that she could learn the duties of the Mistress of Pemberley? Would he come to regret his choice?
She did not know.
Before they rejoined the ball, Charlotte wished to relieve herself, and Elizabeth knew just such a place hidden around the corner of the stables. They took turns.
Elizabeth, when done and rounding the corner to return to her companions, felt crushing arms surround her. A cloth was pressed against her mouth. She screamed and kicked, but nothing came out.
"There, there," a man whispered, pushing her to walk so violently and quickly that Elizabeth could barely focus on where they were going. They walked in the shadow of the buildings. By the time she heard her companions notice her absence, she was on the other side of the park on the lower edge of Netherfield and dragged into a basement.
"Screaming is useless. There are no windows here," the man said. Her eyes started adjusting to the darkness, and she could make out a figure of a person on a bench. Elizabeth's hands were tied to a tall, metallic structure, and a cloth was tied to her mouth. Panicked, she attempted to yell, but only a whimper came out.
"She's yours now."
The man left and locked the door.
Elizabeth heard rather than felt blood pumping in her ears. She squirmed, desperate to free her hands. But she was standing, and her legs were free.
When a sliver of light, perhaps moonlight from window that was nailed shut, landed on the man's face who was slowly approaching her, Elizabeth acted with such violence and energy that she lifted her legs off the ground. With all her weight, she hit the man in the chest. He fell into a shelf, and multiple glass containers broke on top of him and on the floor. Elizabeth felt the splashes of the liquid on her coat.
She waited in silence.
He made no sound.
: :
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Your thoughts always make my day.