A/N: Thanks for reading, reviewing, following and favoriting. I have not had time to answer every review, but every one is read with pleasure and appreciation, even critical ones. I have gotten a few 1-star reviews on Kindle. It irks me that I cannot respond to those viewpoints that need clarification from me. It is a real privilege to be able to do it here.

Well, the Georgian Court (I have dramatized the situation there a little, but not much) turns out to be more angst, but Lizzy has allies, and she is stronger now. Meanwhile Lady Catherine acts as she always does, but our Mrs. Trumbull does something cool, I think.

Chapter 30

As predicted by her nephews, Lady Catherine went to her brother, demanding he talk sense into Darcy about marrying her daughter Anne. She had done this twice before, to no avail, but that was not reason enough to give up trying.

Has he lost his mind? Pursuing an old woman covered in filth from trade?

To her chagrin, when she arrived at her brother's house at Grosvenor Square, the Earl had left on Parliamentary business to the north, and the Countess had gone with him to see her new grandson.

She went to Darcy House next, but the master of the house was not at home; and the butler, Mr. Ford, refused Lady Catherine's entry to the house.

Lady Catherine was scandalized.

"What has the world become? Insolent servants rebelling against their superiors! I shall have Darcy dismiss you without reference!" she roared. But Mr. Ford was not concerned, as the order to bar the door to Lady Catherine in his absence came directly from his master. She went away fuming.

Lady Catherine's own townhouse had long been leased out, but she was not without friends in town. She visited her friend of long standing, Lady Mellon, and secured an invitation to stay at the Mellon's residence. Through questioning Lady Mellon, one of the more notorious gossips in town, she discovered Mrs. Trumbull's soiree was to be held that evening.

If she needed to go to the Trumbull residence to confront Darcy, so be it, even if she must pinch her nose to keep out the stench of trade.

My character had ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness; and in such a moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it.

When she entered Trumbull House that evening, she was miffed no one paid her any attention, which confirmed for her that Darcy was mixing with riff-raff who did not understand the distinction of rank.

By now, Mrs. Trumbull, following Miss Mary Bennet's suggestion, had implemented a new format for her gatherings. Only invited guests were admitted to the soiree, which held a formal presentation followed by supper. Fortune-hunters were not invited. The only two gentlemen who did not need an invitation to attend were Colonel Fitzwilliam and his cousin, Mr. Darcy.

Most people believed Mr. Darcy was Mrs. Trumbull's matrimonial target, and the Colonel benefitted from being a close relation of the Darcys.

Lady Catherine walked toward the grand salon, from whence voices emanated. However, since she was not on the guest list, two footmen barred her entrance.

"What is the meaning of this? Do you know who I am?" thundered Lady Catherine, nearly cracking the floor with her cane. Her tolerance for insubordination from servants had reached the point of white fiery anger.

Mr. Darcy had been listening half-heartedly to a presentation given by a well-known historian about the recent war news from the Continent. He was usually attentive in presentations like this, but this was a special day for him.

He and Georgiana had gone to walk with Elizabeth in the Queen's House park that morning. Since then, he had been basking in the warm memories of seeing his betrothed after almost a month of separation and her sisterly interactions with Georgiana.

Georgiana had been her timid self at the beginning and listened with an astonishment bothering on alarm at her future sister's lively, sportive manner of talking to her brother. However, she had never seen her brother looking so openly pleasant. From Elizabeth herself, she had received gentle, light-hearted prodding, which made her talk without the usual fear she was saying something wrong or childish. When Elizabeth suggested she join the Bennet sisters in a private presentation to the Queen, she almost cried in gratitude. She had dreaded the court presentation ever since her aunt Lady Fitzwilliam had told her it could not be avoided. At the end of the visit, she eagerly looked forward to having Elizabeth at Pemberley soon.

The two siblings then went to Rambler Cottage for a family dinner with the Bennets. Georgiana, after having met Lizzy, was well-disposed toward the remaining Bennet sisters. She did not feel the embarrassment she invariably experienced among young ladies who were pleasant to her only to get close to her brother. The sisters were as lively as Lizzy, and they were around her own age! Even Mrs. Bennet was exceedingly welcoming and treated her as family.

On the way back to Darcy House, Georgiana was rhapsodic about becoming part of such a large, warm, and fun-loving family of ladies.

He would have stayed home to savor these precious feelings, but he had promised Bingley to attend the Trumbull soiree this evening. Bingley complained that even though his sister had been more compliant, she had not stopped nagging him about calling on Mrs. Trumbull. To maintain the peace, and to avoid visiting during daytime calling hours with his meddlesome sister, he chose to attend an evening salon. He could have obtained his own invitation, but he preferred to attend with Darcy in part because he wanted to see how much truth was behind the rumor that Darcy was pursuing Mrs. Trumbull. Among his new circle of friends, there was a wager going on, and Bingley wanted to win.

When the unmistakable shrill voice of his aunt came through the closed doors of the drawing room, Mr. Darcy was rudely awakened from his pleasant ruminations. He excused himself from Bingley and the Duke of Bridgestone, who sat on either side of him, and hurriedly went out to the hall.

"Aunt Catherine, I did not expect to see you here. If you had informed me you wished to attend this gathering, I could have secured an invitation for you." Mr. Darcy offered his arm to his aunt, attempting to lead her away from the salon.

"Darcy, you should be ashamed of yourself—brazenly chasing an old widow oozing filth from her dead tradesman husband's money…"

"Lady Catherine, desist in your nonsensical slander. No one is chasing anyone else, as you so indelicately described."

"You cannot deny the truth of what I said. There is rampant gossip about your frequenting this foul house of a cit. Why do you, of your own accord, mix with the detritus far beneath you? Have you ever considered if your mother were alive, how broken-hearted she would be that you abandoned your betrothed and were seduced by a low woman? Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted?"

Mr. Darcy cringed at the preposterous insults his aunt threw at him and the people at this gathering of eminent intellectuals and members of Parliaments. He was, for the first time, ashamed to be related to his aunt.

Once the shock of Lady Catherine's appalling language passed, he was confused. What could Lady Catherine mean by his abandonment of Elizabeth? He quickly realized the delusional woman was referring to her daughter Anne.

Mr. Darcy thought it best to take his aunt away rather than to prolong the embarrassing scene.

Meanwhile, the presentation had ended. Guests were streaming from the salon towards the dining room for supper. Among the first to appear was George Bentinck, Duke of Bridgestone. He had come this evening because his two sons were fighting on the Peninsula, and he was hungry for news from the front lines, especially through unofficial but reliable channels.

His Grace had grown up with Lady Catherine as a neighbor, and she had set her cap at him when he was a young man. He, however, had never been interested.

The duke addressed his former neighbor, "Catherine, well met. I thought I recognized your voice." He turned to Mr. Darcy and said, "Darcy, please give me an opportunity to catch up with your aunt. Go on to supper. Lady Catherine is in good hands, I promise you."

Lady Catherine was exceedingly surprised to see the duke at a tradesman's home. She had time only to utter, "Bridgestone…"

The duke intercepted her greetings and said severely, "I heard your description of me as detritus. I am seriously displeased. If Mrs. Trumbull's home is good enough for me, it ought to be good enough for you. After all, she is descended from a line of twelve baronets, whereas you married a man who bought a title. Your indelicate and public accusation of Darcy courting Mrs. Trumbull simply fans rumors of this falsehood instead of quenching them. Darcy is like family. I need to discuss with him how to handle the vicious gossip you and your groundless accusation have caused. You might have left him no choice but to ask for Mrs. Trumbull's hand. In terms of fortune, intellect and lineage, they are well-matched. Now, let me escort you to your carriage. You have done enough harm."

Lady Catherine's face turned ashen. "Bridgestone, I… never meant this to happen. I did not know you would be in attendance. This is not to be… borne…" The last word was not audible because Lady Catherine had to swallow it.

"Catherine, on account of my friendship with your brother, allow me to offer a word of advice. You have not been to town in years. Things and people are not the same as when you were younger. Ladies such as Mrs. Trumbull—intelligent, erudite, beautiful, and with immense fortunes—have powerful influence in many spheres. If she felt insulted, she could simply hint to her bosom friend, my niece, Lady Nottingham, and you would be cut by polite society. Please do not be an embarrassment to your nephew again. I have no daughters, or else I would have gladly married one of them to him. But Darcy is his own man, and a great friend to my three boys. He will marry where he wants, even if the lady is from trade."

When the duke reentered the house, both Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Trumbull thanked him for so handily resolving a prickly problem.

The duke laughingly answered, "I am particularly qualified to dispatch Lady Catherine. You should have seen her attempts to catch me when we were young. I believe she will not be a problem for you anymore, Darcy. However, she did announce loudly to the people gathered here that you two were courting."

He turned to Mrs. Trumbull and said, "Madam, you have chosen your guest list well, but it is impossible to prevent talk. Even decent gentlemen could turn into a peck of squawking hens when the topic seems like a juicy worm. Unless you two are indeed courting, what will you do about this?"

Both Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Trumbull denied vehemently anything other than friendship between them. Each, of course, knew of the other's true attachment but would not divulge it.

"Your Grace, I thank you for your advice. Since Mr. Darcy and I are not courting, we cannot satisfy the gossipmongers. However, if it is a scandal they want, it is within my power to create one that will take the attention off Mr. Darcy but will not harm me at all. In fact, I look forward to such a diversion."

Both gentlemen were intrigued by Mrs. Trumbull's remark, but the lady demurred and would not disclose her plan other than to assure Mr. Darcy that all would be well.

Throughout the rest of the evening, Bingley kept hinting at Darcy he could be trusted with the truth about Lady Catherine's accusations. Mr. Darcy decided Bingley had indeed changed. It was time to distance himself from both Bingley and his sister. He was chagrined, but it could not be helped. Bingley needed to grow up, but Darcy declined to take on the responsibility.

The next day, as expected, the rumor of Mr. Darcy's and Mrs. Trumbull's impending nuptials was all over town. Miss Bingley, having eavesdropped on her brother's conversation with an acquaintance he invited back to his house after the soiree, was one of its most enthusiastic spreaders. Disappointed though she was at the loss of her chance of becoming mistress of Pemberley, she relished being the center of attention among her acquaintances.

A day after that, Mrs. Trumbull was seen boarding a ship with her Italian lover, Mr. Rocco, and none of her children. The rumor that they were traveling to Italy to be married spread like wildfire. The ton was quite sympathetic toward Mr. Darcy, but he was not available, having left town with his sister. He was sighted at Windsor, leaving people to wonder if he sought out his cousin, an equerry to the King, to lick his wounded heart.

To the Bingley siblings, the door to Darcy House was closed to them. Mr. Bingley was more chagrined than he wanted to admit. Darcy had not formally cut him but made it clear that their former fraternal closeness no longer existed. He would sorely miss his old friend's guidance, but he understood the reason: his sister had unwittingly incriminated herself when spreading the rumor because Miss Bingley always began with, "My brother, Mr. Darcy's close friend, heard with his own ears what Lady Catherine announced…"

Immediately before leaving for a hunting party in the north, he went to his solicitor, and this time carried out the threat as promised. He never witnessed the terrible tantrum Miss Bingley threw on learning that her pin-money had been cut to half of the original size. Worse, a new condition had been added: any damage she caused to her brother's house would have to be repaired or replaced by deducting the same amounts from her dowry.

Miss Bingley, without her generous pin money, was like a snake without its fangs. She felt physically weak because she could no longer afford the fashionable dresses that gave her strength. Worse, she had been cut from polite society wherever she turned. She had no choice but to retreat to Scarborough, where her four hundred pounds a year could go a long way, and the ton's spite had not bothered to reach that far. She would bide her time there and plan her revenge on her despicable brother, who supplied her with information and then blamed her for telling others. How was it fair?

Mr. Bingley, of course, knew his actions had consequences. However, now that the last of the elder generation of the Bingley family had died, he had no pressing reason to visit his ancestral home.

He had no lack of entertainment from his ever-growing circle of friends, even without Darcy. Besides, Darcy's new form of amusements—going to lectures instead of balls—was not to his taste. In a few years, he might look Darcy up again.

He finally admitted to himself, being friends with Darcy was hard work, and he had rather not exert himself if he could help it.