The Right Honourable Lady Catherine de Bourgh marched into her nephew's study, with a expression so resolute that several centuries' worth of wind and water could not have altered it. A handsome young woman followed in her wake. The young lady appeared to be striving for a meek look; if so, it was a failure. Her dark eyes were stony as she followed Darcy's every movement.
"Cecily," he said in surprise, "I did not know you were here."
Lady Catherine sniffed. "If you were not so lax with your servants — "
"We can discuss that some other time," Darcy said tersely, briefly rubbing his temple. A headache was brewing, and extended proximity to his aunt would not help matters. "What brings you to Pemberley, aunt?"
"It was a very difficult journey," declared Lady Catherine. "One driver — quite, quite reckless; why, if he were in my employ — "
Both cousins sighed.
"— very nearly overturned another carriage. Why, the occupants could have been killed!" She paused for dramatic effect. A pity, thought Darcy, that such a fine education went to waste.
"As could have the driver," remarked Cecily. Lady Catherine scowled down her aquiline nose at her niece.
"And well might he deserve it. However, I know my duty."
Darcy cringed, feeling about sixteen. "Lady Catherine, I fear you have the advantage of me — what do you mean by duty?"
"You might offer me refreshment. I had expected better manners of my sister's son."
Clearly she was in one of her moods. Usually he could do no wrong in her eyes. Darcy sighed and sent for refreshment for both women. "Please, Lady Catherine, would you mind explaining this matter to me, before I expire of impatience?"
"Sarcasm does not befit you, Fitzwilliam," declared her ladyship. Cecily raised her eyes to the ceiling, and smiled mischievously. Darcy bit his lip in response. "But since you are so insistent upon hearing it, I shall tell you. You must act!"
"Lady Catherine," said Darcy, slowly and deliberately, "what is happening?"
"Your cousin — my niece — the most ungrateful, impertinent — "
"Fitzwilliam," Cecily said sweetly, "what my aunt means to say, is that she has abducted me, in order to prevent my marriage. I suppose I should not have threatened to elope."
"Abdu — to elo — " He stared at her in horror, then sat down, pressing the heel of one hand against his brow.
"You see, I — I have fallen in love," she said, the trace of hesitation collaborating her assertion more convincingly than the most violent declarations of undying affection could ahve. Lady Catherine sniffed once more.
"Would you like a handkerchief, aunt?" Darcy snapped.
"Don't be crude, young man."
"Then, since you clearly have no intentions of doing so yourself, perhaps you could allow my cousin to explain -- without commentary."
"Well, I never!"
"Cecilia," Darcy said wearily, "pray continue."
"Thank you, cousin." Cecily clasped her hands. "As I was saying, I have fallen in love. You needn't look so sceptical."
Clearly it was going to be one of those weeks. Darcy struggled for his customary composure. Cecily, easily the most friendly and charismatic of the Fitzwilliam clan, had never shown more than a passing interest in men outside the family. There had been no lack of suitors — their uncle had dowered her well, if not splendidly — but she was too fastidious to accept any of the several who had requested her hand. At least, fastidious was what the cousins called it; flighty was the elder generation's word of choice.
"Who is the fortunate gentleman?" he asked politely. Clearly he had failed to meet with Lady Catherine's approval; although that was hardly a daunting task.
"Gentleman!" interjected Lady Catherine disdainfully. "You impudent chit, how dare you disgrace the family in such a fashion? Your union will be a disgrace — your name will never be spoken by any of us — "
Darcy's blue eyes flashed. "I must ask, Lady Catherine, that you do not presume to speak for me, at least, until I have made my own judgment. Cecily, does this man have a name?"
"James Hammond," Cecily said softly. "He is the curate of the Hunsford parish."
"A curate?" Darcy repeated dazedly, briefly covering his eyes. "You are — you intended to elope with a curate? What sort of man is your Mr Hammond, Cecily?"
"He refused, Fitzwilliam," she said eagerly, "he said he would not dishonour me or allow me to dishonour myself in such a fashion."
"Thank heavens one of you had some sense!" Darcy forced his breathing back to normal. "How did you meet?"
They ignored Lady Catherine's ravings (such goings-on under my own roof!) as Cecily began the tale. Well over a year prior, they had met for the first time. The Collinses had left to attend the marriage of one of their cousins (Darcy turned cold, hot, then cold again, but did not dare ask in Lady Catherine's presence), and in his place Mr Hammond, a young curate, had delivered several weeks' worth of sermons. Lady Catherine had sent Cecily to deliver certain valued pieces of advice, apparently oblivious to what was happening under her nose.
"Very well. And then, I presume something else happened?"
"I caught them in flagrante delicto!" shrieked Lady Catherine.
"Do you even know what that means?" returned Cecily contemptuously.
"I should have expected it," yet another autocratic female voice declared, "of a Fitzwilliam."
Standing in the doorway, posing like some bizarre caricature of Nemesis, stood the dowager Lady Westhampton. Several distinctly irreligious thoughts passed through Darcy's mind. He scarcely heard the servants abjectly apologising for their failure to restrain the lady, and simply nodded and dismissed them. A sneaking sympathy for Mr Bennet leapt into his mind as he looked around at the three tall, imperious women gazing at him. Good God, he thought in sheer frustration, why am I thinking of them, now?
---
Sharon: Thanks! By "season" he meant the Christmas season, which extends into January — it's early January, 1817. Elizabeth stays at Longbourn — the Gardiners mentioned that Mr Bennet's health was bad? Naturally Elizabeth is the one who has to deal with that. Kitty is the one who lives with the Bingleys; Mary is married to her clerk. Lady Cat wants Darcy to knock sense into Cecilia's head! Well, Stephen does have a father who's there for him — Darcy. Lord W will also be there for him, but in a distant way — a remote, idealised "father" rather than the protective, caring "papa" that Darcy has become. Intrigue? Well . . . thanks.