Rosings Park, April 1812
"Darcy, I will not be gainsaid in this! You have forgotten your duty!"
Lady Catherine thumped her walking stick for emphasis, heedless of her parquet flooring. The argument has been going on for some time. Her nephew looked on impassively, his face betraying nothing but the fashionable mask of boredom so beloved of the Ton. His aunt, however, was red in the face and spoke most passionately.
"You and Anne are formed for one another! Your fortunes are splendid. Your connections impeccable, both descending from the noble Fitzwilliam line as you do. And even your fathers' families, though untitled, are respectable and ancient. Anne would increase your standing and your wealth. She destined for you and you for her, by every member of your respective houses, and what is to divide you?"
"Not every member, Aunt."
She ignored him.
"And what is to divide you?" She repeated. "An upstart girl without family, connections, or fortune? It shall not be endured!"
"I am sorry to pain you Aunt, but I have no intention of marrying Anne. Much as I respect her - and you -" he bowed, "I have no inclination toward her. Nor, do I think has she for me. Indeed, I have no intention of marrying anyone at this time. As I have told you, I do not understand of whom you speak."
"Do not understand? Do not understand?! Do you think me a fool? I have seen how you look at that...that... strumpet! And she, simpering and flirting over my pianoforte, using her arts and allurements in front of Anne. She has no shame! And you! You have been spotted! Having assignations in my own park! You would abandon everything you owe your family! You will disgrace yourself and us with you! Men, you are ruled by what is between your legs..."
"Aunt!" shouted Darcy, finally roused to visible anger by her shocking words. "I beg you desist. This is not appropriate conversation for a Lady."
"And how am I to make you see sense? If I do not speak of these things now, it will be too late! You will rue the day you married that..."
"Aunt," he interrupted, "no more. I have told you, I am not ready to marry. I have long resisted the arts of ladies seeking to ensnare me and the machinations of their Mamas (including, thought he, Lady Catherine) and have no intention of falling foul now, or in the future."
"You will promise me not to marry Miss Bennet?"
Darcy's hackles rose. Though he had long counselled himself that marriage to Elizabeth... Miss Bennet... was impossible, he was not willing to be ordered about like a mere boy by his harridan of an aunt. He ignored the little voice at the back of his mind that told him his main concern was giving up Elizabeth. No, it was his aunt's presumption that offended him. He would promise her nothing that she ordered him to do!
"Indeed I will not Aunt."
"You are determined to have her then? Do you not have a care for my wishes? I am almost your nearest relation."
He wavered.
"Ungrateful boy."
It was the worst thing she could have said, if she wished any chance at influencing him.
"I said no such thing. I am grateful for your attentions as I always have been, Aunt, and I am ever aware of my duty. I am determined only to make my own decisions, as a man and as head of the Darcy family. I refuse to be worked upon in this manner."
"Very well then," replied she, "I shall know how to act!"
"As shall I." He gave a bow that was as insolent as a polite gesture could be, before storming out of the room.
His aunt harrumphed in disgust. Neither she nor her nephew would have appreciated the observation that they never looked more similar than when they were both in a temper.
xXx
Later that day
"And you are sure it will work?" she asked her maid, her voice urgent and excited at once.
"Yes ma'am, Mrs Taylor swears by it. Said she caught Mr Taylor right quick when she gave it to him, and her daughters all married well too and hardly a dowry between them."
"And you went to the same woman? The wise woman you spoke of? You made sure it is the same potion? It must work."
"Yes ma'am, I went to Mistress Alice. She makes many potions, for healing and the like. She gave my sister a potion to have a babe. It will work."
"It better. He leaves in two days. We have not the time for mistakes."
"There is only one reason it would not affect him as you wish, ma'am. If the man already be in love, he cannot fall in love with a different lady."
Lady Catherine grabbed for the vial.
"That is no impediment to me. My nephew is not in love, he is infatuated with pretty eyes and pert manners. He simply needs a reminder of his destiny." She sighed. "If only Anne was not so sickly, she would be the admired as the jewel she is."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I should not have to resort to this trickery!"
"No, ma'am."
"Oh! Away with you if all you can do is sigh and agree!"
"Of course, ma'am." Her maid curtseyed and left quickly, knowing that an angry Lady Catherine was not one to mince words (or refrain from throwing expensive vases). But what else was a maid to do, but agree with her mistress?
"Insipid girl!" muttered Lady Catherine, as the door closed, staring at the vial. "And yet, she has been useful." She prayed it would work and Anne would finally be settled and safe. For all her bluster, she was but a worried Mama, and she wished most of all for her daughter's happiness. Her hopes may be somewhat misguided, and her execution most definitely faulty, but her heart was in the right place. She would not settle for just any rich man; Darcy would care for Anne, that is why she wanted him. She resolved to carry out her scheme this very day. For Anne.
Unfortunately, Darcy remained rather elusive until the evening, when the party from the parsonage was invited for tea. Lady Catherine felt uncharacteristically anxious, worried that her plan would go awry. She had no choice but to dose Darcy now, while she had the chance, and had to hope that the presence of other unmarried ladies, and of Miss Bennet in particular, would not prove problematic. When Mr Collins arrived with his wife and sister, but no Miss Bennet, she was restored to her natural confidence. Providence itself had ensured the girl had a headache, and Anne's path to marriage was clear! She arranged the room to her advantage, directing Darcy to sit beside her daughter and the Colonel to distract the other ladies, out of Darcy's eyeline, just in case. She had Anne serve Darcy his special tea, as Mistress Alice had directed, and then, she waited.
Darcy, still angry at his aunt's presumption, had been for a long ride to ease his temper. On his return he had sought out the grove favoured by Miss Bennet, but she had not been there, and thus he had been drawn back into Lady Catherine's presence in the hope of seeing her at tea, but he was left disappointed. Mrs Collins mentioned Miss Bennet had a headache. He once again counselled himself on the impossibility of marrying her and tried to be happy that he had avoided an opportunity to raise hopes that he did not intend to fulfil. He sat where he was told, not wishing for yet another argument, and drank his tea, which tasted a little strange, and brooded, as he often did these days. He noticed Lady Catherine was watching him and wondered what she was about.
Nothing happened. Lady Catherine prodded Anne to speak to Darcy, hoping her voice would activate the magic in the potion. Darcy ignored both of them, and Mr Collins, who was droning on as usual. He could not hear what was being said but Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mrs Collins seemed to be having a fairly lively discussion, to which Miss Lucas listened shyly.
Darcy was a little sleepy. The voices around him seemed to buzz, like insects, but words were indistinct. He could feel his heart beating strongly in his chest, as it did when he had been fencing. His thoughts were dreamlike; he wondered if was asleep, for there was Elizabeth in front of him, as she often was at night. He heard Mr Collins say her name and suddenly he knew, in his very soul, that he must marry her. He truly loved her, he knew it now. This was no passing infatuation. She was meant to be his wife. No matter how reprehensible her connections, he would have her beside him forever.
He stood up abruptly, begged to be excused, and rushed from the room.
Lady Catherine was surprised, but then she smiled, realising this must be the potion at work. She had hoped he would propose immediately, but no matter, she could wait if need be. He would be back, she thought, smugly.
She would not have been so happy if she had known Darcy's flight had taken him directly to the parsonage. He, still in a somewhat dreamlike state, hardly knew how he had got there or what he had said to the maid, nor to Miss Bennet. He walked about the room in agitation, and for some minutes was completely silent, as was she. Then, he turned abruptly and went towards her, though no less agitated, saying...
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me tell you how ardently I admire and love you."