RED

Elizabeth's vastly improved relationship with Mr. Jennings notwithstanding, she still found it unnerving when he came into a room unexpectedly. The gravity the butler carried about his person always made her feel like he represented impending doom, even though most of the time, it simply meant she had received some of her infrequent post, or there was something happening about the estate that he thought she should be aware of.

Her husband's requirement that she pay her own post had made her quite careful about who she corresponded with. She had written to the postmaster in Meryton on New Year's Day when Mr. Bates' concoction had left her feeling half‑human, but still blisteringly angry. She had told him in no uncertain terms that Pemberley would not pay the postage on any letters that arrived from Hertfordshire, and suggested he tell Mrs. Bennet and Lucas about the prohibition. She assumed it would all be blamed on her husband, but she really did not care, and probably would have done the same even if she did not have to pay for it. She had given the same message to the postmaster in Lambton, who handled Pemberley's post, so she had not received a single letter from her family but had no idea if they had tried or not. Her guess was that her father was entirely done with her, but her mother would make every effort to trade on the Darcy name to throw the rest of her daughters in the paths of other rich men, but she was not inclined to help the effort in the slightest.

Elizabeth had however, carefully written to her aunt in Cheapside. Elizabeth was not especially close to Madeline Gardiner, but her aunt was from Lambton, and she still had a few connections there, including Mr. Bartlet. Elizabeth had a strong suspicion that Mr. Darcy would look down on her corresponding with an uncle who was actively in trade, and she did not want to cause either her aunt or herself any trouble. Mr. Gardiner was a successful tradesman, far more successful in life than Mr. Bennet, but he sold luxury goods, so his trade depended greatly on the whims of the gentry. Elizabeth was afraid of disrupting that with any rumors started about her, or any tarnishing of the Darcy reputation, so she only wrote occasionally, and was very careful about what she said. She loved her aunt and uncle, but not enough to have a close enough connection to do them potential harm. She certainly did not tell them anything about her relationship with her husband. She suspected they had worked it out, but it was best not to be explicit, and being explicit in writing would border on the suicidal.

The mistress did get some correspondence from neighboring estates, but she replied with polite nothings indicating that she was in mourning and would thus not be taking or receiving calls just yet. That had managed to stop most of them, although she suspected the excuse would only work until her six months of faux heavy mourning were over, at which point all bets would be off.

Jennings said, "Lord Matlock is here, Mrs. Darcy. He is your uncle."

Elizabeth stopped just short of snorting, and replied, "He is my husband's uncle, Mr. Jennings. That is a very different thing," mostly because she wanted to see if she could get a reaction out of the man.

She could not.

"Whatever his relationship is, madam, he is in the Yellow Parlor."

"Of course," Elizabeth said, muttering under her breath that bad things usually happened in that parlor.

Jennings escorted her to the parlor himself and announced her with all the pomp that he might have employed if she was a legitimate mistress.

"Lord and Lady Matlock, allow me to present Mrs. Darcy."


Elizabeth curtsied, and wondered if Lord Matlock would recognize her from the park. By sheer coincidence, she was wearing the exact same dress from that long‑ago walk in the park, but since it had been died black and she was not wearing a man's overcoat, it seemed unlikely. She completed the outfit with her mobcap, so she would not be entirely surprised if her own mother failed to recognize her.

She wondered if she should try to make the couple feel welcome, but since Lady Matlock reminded her strongly of Caroline Bingley, wearing a frown of disdain and derision that Elizabeth could practically smell, she thought to just do the minimum.

"My lord. My lady. Welcome to Pemberley. Would you care to sit?"

The words sounded officious to her ears. While she was the mistress of the estate, she did not particularly feel right welcoming someone who had no doubt been there dozens or hundreds of times.

"Mrs. Darcy," Matlock said, without making any move towards the seating area.

Wondering if that was to be the end of it, Elizabeth said, "I fear my husband is not home at present. How may I help you?"

It was not the most welcoming speech she had ever given, but between what could best be described as a sneer with a scrunched nose as if she smelled something rotten on Lady Matlock, coupled with a disgruntled but slightly more decorous look from her husband; Elizabeth was not feeling exactly welcoming.

"Hardly surprising," Lady Matlock grumbled under her breath but perfectly audible. Elizabeth assumed it must have been some time since the lady had been young or had to deal with someone with normal hearing for a twenty-year-old. She looked as if she did not particularly care if she was heard, but it had been mumbled low enough for her to deny it if challenged.

Elizabeth let it pass, and simply waited for His Lordship, or His Mightiness or whatever he thought of himself to deign to speak.

Matlock said, "Darcy is away on important family business."

Not much liking the tone of the start of the conversation, Elizabeth still thought to try to make as good of an impression as she could. Perhaps she could win her noble relations over with her charm. It also seemed like a chance to learn something, so she tried her best to ignore the couple and concentrate on being pleasant.

"Yes, he told me that, but nothing more. Might you be able to enlighten me about where he is, what he is doing and when he will return. I will settle for any or all of the three."

Matlock frowned, apparently finding simple questions to be impertinent. "If Darcy wanted you to know any of that, he would have informed you himself. You should not be digging around in things that are none of your affair."

For a conversation that had been going on for less than five minutes, Elizabeth was not very satisfied, nor very optimistic that it might improve, but she had to give it a try.

"He was rather in a hurry at the time, sir. What possible harm could there be in giving me some idea of when he plans to return?"

Matlock stared at her. "It is not your place to question your husband. He will go where he wants and return when he wishes. You have what you wanted, so do not complain."

Feeling put out already, Elizabeth felt like she had to start standing her ground right then, or this family would run roughshod over her for the rest of her life.

"On that score, you are misinformed, my lord. While it is true, as you probably know, that I was not Mr. Darcy's first choice; I can assure you that I had nothing to do with the predicament we found ourselves in."

Lady Matlock harrumphed loudly as if Elizabeth had just spoken the most utter nonsense but did not seem to feel any need to say anything.

Matlock said, "That is not how Darcy described it to me. His memory is excellent, and he remembers things very differently."

"Perhaps that is true ordinarily, but at the time, he was completely misinformed and compounded it with some bad assumptions. I made an attempt to correct him before he left, but I do not know if he has come to understand what I said."

Matlock looked like he was affronted that she would dare to question the word of her husband or his own secondhand opinions, and otherwise just discounted what she said. "Do you deny that your mother made up the incident out of whole cloth?"

Not really noticing her temper raising, and her fists clenching, Elizabeth said, "No, my lord, I do not. She is more in my brown books than anyone else I know, and I have not spoken a single word, nor written a single line to her since. I most vigorously did not aspire to this match, did everything within my power to avoid it, and would be much happier had it never occurred."

She briefly thought about telling him about her attempt to speak to him but thought that would as likely end in disaster as anything, considering how that encounter ended with Mr. Baker dragging her off into the park, and she did not have time to add anything anyway.

Lady Matlock frowned ferociously, and then proceeded to stare at Elizabeth as if she was a particularly unattractive exhibit at the menagerie. It was clear to Elizabeth that the woman thought only a mad woman would not want to be mistress of Pemberley.

Matlock scoffed openly. "I for one do not believe it, Mrs. Darcy. Nobody would pass the chance to become a Darcy. It is inconceivable. You have gained everything, while Darcy has gained nothing, and in fact, has lost greatly."

Still trying to keep her temper under control, she said, "Perhaps that word does not mean quite what you think it does, Lord Matlock. Whatever you may think, I am innocent in this matter, and I had no desire to join this family. Now that I am here, I will not disgrace it, but I would rather have been in another."

Lady Matlock sneered in disdain, but held her tongue, while her husband, with the same sort of sneer, said, "I see. So, were you tied up, beaten and dragged to the alter? Is that your claim?"

Elizabeth tried her best to calm her temper, but having her honor and honesty questioned a half‑dozen times in five minutes was really getting on her nerves. She wondered if this was how the rest of her miserable life was to begin, and if Mrs. Reynolds had some salts.

Trying to keep her voice calm, she replied, "Close to it, my lord. I made some dedicated efforts to escape the match. In the end, my father dragged me in using tricks little better than what you described to enforce my acquiescence. Mr. Darcy would not even talk to me, so he left no opportunity for alternate solutions, of which, I would have accepted nearly anything."

Showing he had some temper too, Matlock stamped his foot, shook his finger at her like a misbehaving child, and actually shouted, "Desist, madam! Darcy was there and he described the entire scene in some detail, not just the last night, but the entire six weeks. I have known him since he was in swaddling clothes, and I will take his word on the matter."

Matching him tone for tone, but without the foot stomping and finger wagging, Elizabeth replied, "His interpretation is wildly off track, your lordship".

For the first time, Elizabeth wished she was a man, because the insufferable man really deserved a beating. Instead, she kept trying to rein in her temper, and finally said with a contrived preternatural calmness. "We can sit here and argue about this all day, my lord, but since you clearly have your mind made up, I will leave you to your preconceptions, and just deal with my husband when he returns."

Matlock's mouth was set in a grim line as he nodded, not at all certain how this little guttersnipe had gotten him so riled up. He had not lost his temper so thoroughly in quite some time.

Trying to calm down, Elizabeth asked, "May I ask you another question, my lord. Actually, I have two."

"That is what I am here for."

Startled, Elizabeth asked, "What do you mean?"

Lady Matlock decided to join the conversation, saying, "We are here to teach you proper manners and accomplishments, so you stand some slim chance of not disgracing our nephew. There seems little chance you will bring any pride to your introduction into society, but we hope to limit the damage."

Elizabeth just stared at the hateful woman for half a minute, and finally said, "Mr. Darcy is a gentleman. I am a gentleman's daughter. Socially, we are equal. My husband has expressed no reluctance about my deportment or manners, which, as far as I can tell, will raise the standards in this family. My accomplishments are fine, so you may return home."

Matlock snapped, "Not so hasty, if you please. I have by no means done. We have only been in the room ten minutes and I am already aghast at your impertinence, your willfulness, your lack of respect for your superiors –"

Getting angrier and angrier, Elizabeth said, "You have been in my home for less than ten minutes and you have already accused me of dishonesty, bad manners and lack of accomplishments - even though neither of you know anything about me – not the very first thing. What do you expect?"

"I expect you to respect your elders and take the help that was freely offered. I know much more about you and your family than you might think. I hired investigators, and based on their reports, I can only conclude that the entire lot of you should be shunned."

Elizabeth was livid by then, and she started to speak, but then stopped and said, "This line of speaking is accomplishing nothing, my lord. Neither party is likely to change positions, and I would posit it is a pointless exercise. May I ask my questions?"

"If you must," Matlock snapped.

Elizabeth realized they had just ignored her invitation to sit, but since she was not entirely convinced that she would not have Noah dragging them out of the house soon, she left them standing.

She said, "I have been reading Mr. Darcy's law books."

Lady Matlock gasped in surprise. "That is not ladylike. Do not ever repeat that statement, and you must desist immediately."

Elizabeth growled. "I will follow my husband's instructions, if you do not mind, Lady Matlock. He very explicitly specified, in writing, which books I was allowed, and which were prohibited. Now, may I get around to my question, if you please?"

"Get to it," Matlock growled, while Elizabeth thought, 'this is not going well.'

"I read the sections on marriage law quite carefully. Here is my question. I have come to believe that Mr. Darcy is at least considering an annulment. Is this true?"

Lady Matlock gasped, but looked confused, while Lord Matlock looked – guilty.

Elizabeth wondered how the gentry defined social skills. Lord Matlock seemed to have all the social grace of a bull. The couple made Mr. Darcy and Miss Bingley seem subtle by comparison. She suspected the Earl had carried the upper hand in just about every interaction in his life, and he had either not learned to school his expressions; or more likely, he just could not be bothered when talking to someone of such little significance. She could read the expression on his face, which answered the question quite handily, but since he did not seem to be ready to answer verbally, she did so for him.

"I can see by your expression that it is under serious consideration, is it not, my lord? Your lack of denial would seem a confirmation to me."

Matlock nodded, but Elizabeth watched his expression even more carefully than before. She was angrier than she had ever been in her life, but she also felt as if she was in battle, or at least, as she imagined such a thing must feel. Time seemed to slow down, and she felt like she could see practically every breath. What she saw, made her bold.

"Let me guess. It was your idea my lord, no?"

Matlock grunted. "Do I need to actually answer your questions Madam, or will you just suppose all my answers?"

"Just tell me if I am wrong, sir."

Matlock paused, and Elizabeth gave him all the time he needed to answer, or as one of the stable hands was fond of saying, she gave him all the rope he needed to hang himself.

"Yes, it was my idea, and Darcy said he would seriously consider it, which I believe he will. If these are the manners he can expect, I would not be in the least surprised. It is expensive, but it would leave him free to choose – better."

"I can assure you, my lord, that in any situation where my honor and integrity are not being called into question in my own home, my manners are far-far better than Mr. Darcy's on his best day. If he comes at me with accusations, he will get what he deserves. If he comes at me from a position of honesty, he will find me far more accommodating."

Mrs. Matlock growled. "It is not your place to decide your husband's deportment."

Elizabeth just shook her head, seeing the utter futility of arguing with the lady, and instead, she thought of another expression from the stables, 'strike while the iron is hot'.

She asked, "Had you any other helpful suggestions my lord. Perhaps put me aside – ship me off to some remote estate – keep me in the country busy with babies – have me committed – something like that."

Now the man was staring at her hard. It was not in the least a friendly stare, but at least it did not seem to presage violence.

He finally said, "Yes, all of those are perfectly well within his rights, and I would not only support any or all of them, but I suggested all of them to him. He listened carefully. He was badly used."

Losing a bit of her iron control, Elizabeth spat out, "Bah! You say that, but you know perfectly well that all Mr. Darcy faced was a season of embarrassment. He would be right back to the marriage mart before the start of the next season, as soon as another scandal came along. I on the other hand, along with all my sisters, would have been considered ruined. I do not blame him for being angry about the compromise, but to pretend it was my doing, and so I should take all the punishment is beyond the pale – even for you."

Mrs. Matlock huffed, but did not seem inclined to speak.

Her husband asked, "What makes you think he is leaning towards annulment, if I might ask."

He was obviously still an enemy, and Elizabeth wondered if he was gathering ammunition or genuinely curious.

"Nothing very clear, save your admission. There are a few things he said after the wedding, some noticeable and hard to explain discrepancies in my marriage lines, some things Mr. Knight said, that sort of thing. For example, my middle name is wrong on the marriage lines, which might be used for a claim of fraud. There are a few more things like that. As I understand it, an annulment is difficult and expensive, and the discarded woman is unlikely to ever marry anyone of any consequence whatsoever, but Mr. Darcy would recover in a year or two. He would probably be better off; the way you people think."

Matlock ignored the obvious bait of 'you people'. "Why do you say he would be better off?"

"His reputation would be temporarily sullied but based on what I have learned about the ton, that would be forgotten in a few months, and he is such an unsocial and taciturn fellow, he would hardly be missed. The expense of the annulment could easily be filled by finding a better dowered wife. He would end up a year or two hence better connected and richer."

Lady Matlock seemed confused.

Matlock said, "That is putting the cart inf front of the horse. It sounds like you judge him mercenary, when all the evidence supports the idea that you are."

"I am simply telling you where the evidence points, my lord. If your solicitor was listening to this conversation, he would agree with me."

Lady Matlock gasped at that idea, but Elizabeth just ignored her. She just imagined she was Caroline Bingley, and everything became automatic.

Matlock said, "I do not appreciate being compared to tradesmen, Mrs. Darcy, nor will your husband."

Elizabeth sighed. "That is a shame, my lord. There is about the same amount of goodness or vice in tradesmen as in the gentry, as far as I can tell."

Lady Matlock looked like she was about to feint in shock.

Matlock said, "I will not dignify that with an answer."

Elizabeth shrugged. It was not very elegant, but she was beyond caring. "I suppose that is as expected. It was – interesting – to meet you my lord, my lady. Now I will bid you good day and wish you a pleasant journey."

Matlock shook his head. "There will be no journey, Mrs. Darcy. As my wife informed you, we are here to try to teach you what you need to be an adequate Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth barely remembered the earlier assertion, but since she was so blisteringly angry that she wanted to hit something, she thought she could be excused.

"I apologize for any confusion, my lord, but I cannot entertain you."

Lady Matlock gasped again, which was starting to get on the mistress' nerves; while the Earl stamped his foot again, practically shouting. "Of course, you can. Do not be absurd."

Her head starting to pound, Elizabeth said, "I apologize, sir. I did not know you were a radical. That might explain much."

"Radical! You make no sense, Mrs. Darcy. What do you mean?"

Staring the man down and just about out of patience, she said, "Only a radical would assert that an uncle's wishes should overrule a husband's written instructions in his own home. Mr. Darcy did not tell me very much, but what he did say, was clear, unambiguous and in writing."

Matlock thundered. "He did not mean us! He meant the neighbors."

"I see. So, I should just take your word for it. Tell me, my lord, if Lady Catherine happened to drop by, should I follow her instructions as well."

"Absolutely not!"

Elizabeth tried to smile, although it came out as more of a grimace. "You see my conundrum then, my lord. I have clear and explicit instructions, and competing people trying to assert they are incorrect."

"You should use your common sense."

Elizabeth sighed. "Lord Matlock – Lady Matlock. Let me be clear. As I have surmised, and you have verified, I am in some danger of being cast aside in some thoroughly unpleasant way. There is very little I can do to change the outcome, but what I can do, I will do. My husband, if he ever returns, may find me unhandsome, he may find me impertinent, he may find me a bluestocking, he may find me insufficiently accomplished. Any or all of these he may find. What he will not find is that I have been disobedient. If he wants to put me aside, it will be on his own head, not mine. I will follow all of his instructions to the letter, and I will not allow anyone to disrupt that."

Still reeling from her assertion, and not quite able to believe a tiny insignificant mouse of a country girl was willing to stand up to him, the Earl asked, "How do you propose to learn what you need to know to be a good mistress?"

"I am already a good mistress, but should my husband have his own ideas, I will do as he suggests."

Lady Matlock said, "I truly think you are mad, Mrs. Darcy."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I suppose if Mr. Darcy comes to the same conclusion, he may attempt to have me committed."

Matlock said, "What do you mean 'attempt'?"

"I will leave that to your imagination, my lord. I will not go quietly if it comes to that. Now, if you need to rest before you return, I suggest you apply to Mrs. Reynolds just like anybody else. I will not be about to get in your way, but I repeat – I will not entertain you."

Both noble relatives looked like they wanted to argue some more, but Elizabeth saw no real point, so she just said, "Good day my lord, my lady."

Then she gave a curtsy that was exactly-precisely what was due someone of their station, turned and left the room without another word.