Two weeks after Darcy arrived at Ramsgate, he rode with Wickham to London, so they could sign the settlement papers. Georgiana remained in Ramsgate due to her pregnancy.
When they returned, Mr. Darcy was accompanied by his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth liked him very much, though from his manner she realized he knew about her past with Mr. Darcy.
Elizabeth and Darcy spent hours together most days. They sat in the garden when the weather permitted and enjoyed the stiff sea breezes and the sounds of the waves. Sometimes they were joined by others, but often it was just the two of them talking and laughing.
Darcy knew the time of this happy interlude was passing.
Elizabeth was warm and almost desperately sweet with him. But anytime he tried to hint about their future, a fear would rise in her eyes and she would wordlessly beg him not to ask, not yet. So he did not. Not yet. But he would not leave her.
He would never leave Elizabeth's side again.
Eventually he would need to press her. His unshakable decision to marry Elizabeth made him more like his father. He had placed what he wanted, who he needed, above the needs of the estate. Perhaps Elizabeth had realized he was not good enough for her any longer. Was that why she would not let him ask her?
Darcy knew that was absurd.
Whatever made Elizabeth hesitate, she did not fear he would become imprudent in the future. That was his own anxiety. But as much as he wanted to settle matters with Elizabeth, she needed more time, and he did not wish to damage their present happiness with unwanted begging.
After she left Ramsgate, Elizabeth would visit Charlotte. Darcy was not eager to rebuild his relationship with Lady Catherine, but a visit to her would be a fine excuse to stay near Elizabeth for two more months.
Darcy sent a letter to Lady Catherine stating his hope to reconcile with her. A fortnight afterwards the following reply was received:
My Dear Nephew,
I know what your goal is. You yet hope to attach Anne. You must be even more desperate for funds than before. You should not have given my sister's dowry to the steward's son. I understand you have now reconciled with him and your hussy of a sister. You should not have met her at all, or even permitted her name to be mentioned in your presence. You are an entirely unacceptable husband for my daughter, who is the heir of two great family names.
I understand your plot and shall not allow it to succeed.
However, your desire for reconciliation was well worded.
Your loving aunt,
Lady Catherine de Bourgh
Darcy ranted to himself about the self-important foolishness of his aunt. Why would he wish to marry Anne when he loved Elizabeth?
He needed to convince his aunt that she was wrong so he could visit while Elizabeth was present.
For Elizabeth, and only for her, he could appease his aunt. Darcy wrote a new letter:
My dear, noble, and distinguished aunt,
All I wish is to restore closeness with my mother's beloved sister. Recent events made me think more strongly of the importance of family connections. I have ignored ties of blood for far too long. I know that my debts and the behavior of my sister mean I must come to you as a supplicant, and not an equal.
Had I not foolishly taken offense when you rightfully refused Anne's hand, none of the calamities that have struck me since would have occurred. For if I had shown you the deference our relationship and your superior position deserve, I would have heard and benefited from your wisdom and advice. Had I listened to your wisdom on how to raise a girl, it would have been impossible for me to make the mistakes which led to Georgiana's regrettable marriage.
Alas, I now wish to lock the door after the fox, that vile, vicious steward's son, has already eaten my sister. But I know your wisdom and frankness to be such that I shall still benefit from your advice. I am truly sincere when I say there is no desire in my heart to steal my cousin, even though she is England's finest jewel. I know marriage to your elegant daughter would be an impossibility, and I will not enter into strife with the oceans or seek to conquer the moon.
Your penitent nephew,
Fitzwilliam Darcy
Darcy did not feel guilty about slathering false praise on his aunt. His letter was sarcastic, not dishonest. After the rudeness of Lady Catherine's first letter, it was her affair if she failed to understand that. If Lady Catherine refused to let him visit, he would take a room at an inn so he could be near Elizabeth. It would be more pleasant.
Darcy was not sure if he was pleased or not when Lady Catherine replied to his letter with an offer for him to visit when he wished. Colonel Fitzwilliam decided he would enjoy his occasionally necessary visit to Lady Catherine best when Darcy was there. So a week later they both crowded into Bingley's carriage for the several hour journey from Ramsgate to Rosings Park.
Elizabeth was dropped off first, and Darcy kissed her hand before allowing the carriage to separate them, even if it was just by half a mile.
Once Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived and washed their hands and faces, they were summoned to the drawing room.
Lady Catherine wore panniers, a style that had not been popular since the middle of the previous century. Her hoops bellowed out around the edges of the giant chair she sat upon. The chair's brown leather back rose a foot above her head. Anne and her old governess Mrs. Jenkinson sat to Lady Catherine's right side. Of course their chairs were smaller, so they did not compete with the great lady's throne.
Lady Catherine carefully looked Darcy over with a dismissive sneer. "Well. Hmph. You certainly dress like you are poor."
Darcy shrugged and looked down to hide his smile. "I feel the damage to my consequence keenly. Still, I am untitled, and the distinctions of rank should be preserved." He recalled Lady Catherine spitting out nonsense about how sumptuary laws were an excellent scheme and should be greatly expanded.
"You have Fitzwilliam blood, debased though it may be by the mixture with that of your foul father. Nephew, you may kiss my cheek."
Darcy did so.
Elizabeth would think the scene was ludicrous. It was hard not to laugh when he imagined how he would describe it for her.
Lady Catherine pointed at Anne. "Despite your excellent letter, I know somewhere in your grasping mind is a desire for my daughter" — Lady Catherine pounded her black leather cane on the floor three times — "I shall not allow it."
Anne blinked at Darcy, her face was thin and expressionless, and her hair thin and dull. She seemed smaller and paler than he remembered. How could anyone desire her if they knew a lively and bold woman such as Elizabeth?
"Of course, madam. Your will shall govern me."
"Hmph. Well, you begged for my advice, and I shall give you a great deal. But my time is not unlimited; I have many tasks as the leading gentlewoman of the parish, so I shall expect you to listen close when I speak to you, for I will not repeat myself."
Oh, damn.
Of course she took that part seriously. He now would have to listen to her. The things he did for Elizabeth. "I do not wish to take more of your time than you can give without causing harm to others."
"Fie. I'll be the judge of that — Where are you going, Richard?"
Darcy's cousin was caught surreptitiously inching towards the door. He looked like he used to as a boy when the cook caught him stealing sweets right before dinner. "I was going to make sure my horse is stabled properly."
Lady Catherine grunted. "My groom did a fine job of settling in your horse. You do not need to."
"I am a military man, madam. We wish to manage these matters ourselves. I may someday depend upon that horse to save my life."
"Nonsense, boy. You are safe here in England — not fighting Boney's bravos in that boorish country with that jumped up Irish upstart Wellesley. Sit down and listen. You may learn something, which is more, I daresay, than you've ever done before."
Darcy looked at Colonel Fitzwilliam and said with a smirk, "Yes, do stay — I would hate if you lost the benefit of your aunt's wisdom while I received it."
Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged and sat on a couch.
Lady Catherine said to Darcy, "I must know what your household practices are in detail before I can describe all the mistakes you are making. Pray tell — how often does your housekeeper wash the linens?"
MDVMDVMDV
The next afternoon Elizabeth dined with Lady Catherine. This was Sir William's last dinner before he would return to Hertfordshire. Elizabeth and Charlotte held arms as they walked across the lawn, enjoying each other's company again. Mr. Collins walked backwards through the lawn as he explained to Elizabeth the extravagant features of Rosings Park.
The long row of windows had cost six hundred pounds to glaze. Very expensive, though it was a great many windows. Elizabeth's conversations with Darcy over the past few weeks had made her more aware of money matters.
When the party arrived, they were ushered into a sitting room. Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam immediately stood upon their entrance, while Lady Catherine remained in a large grand chair. Her hair was done up in a massive piled style that towered six inches. Elizabeth wondered how much of the hair was actually from a horse. The young woman seated next to Lady Catherine, who Elizabeth assumed was her daughter, had a blank stare.
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged glances of amusement during Mr. Collins's long winded introduction of his fair cousin to Lady Catherine. When the time came, Elizabeth made a properly deferential curtsy to the grand lady. Lady Catherine wished to seem like a throned monarch receiving obeisance from her subjects. If it amused her Ladyship to engage in such a pretense, it amused Elizabeth to pretend as well.
As soon as Lady Catherine's attention left her, Elizabeth looked around the room. It was an impressive and grand, several times the size of Netherfield's drawing room, and the fireplace was nearly ten feet wide. Elizabeth imagined that Darcy had calculated out the fortune it must cost to heat this room in the winter.
Darcy looked well in his blue tailcoat.
Except for several simple wooden chairs in the back, where uniformed maids and footmen sat waiting for Lady Catherine to raise an imperious finger to command them — no reliance on such newfangled notions as bells for her — all of the chairs were made of ornate hardwoods, with the arms carved into the claws of mythological beasts. Elizabeth had heard from Mr. Collins that the chimney piece in Lady Catherine's drawing room cost eight hundred pounds.
It was a very large and elaborately decorated chimney piece.
When the party proceeded to dinner, Darcy arranged to take Elizabeth's arm. He had watched Elizabeth look about and saw that she was as amused by his aunt's manners as he had expected. With a dry sideways glance, he asked Elizabeth, "Are you not impressed by my aunt's house?"
Elizabeth whispered back, "I have never been so impressed — I have it on the authority of Mr. Collins that the chimney piece cost eight hundred pounds. Money well spent. Tell me did you figure what it would cost to keep a roaring fire in a fireplace that large in the winter?"
"No — though I can say it is a large sum. I would guess it to be at least…" Darcy trailed off as he figured in his head.
Elizabeth interrupted him with a laugh. "I do not need to know — do you remember when you complained about my mother's beeswax candles?"
"No — wait, I do — that was boorish of me."
"You apologized immediately." Elizabeth flashed an impish grin. "That time."
After they were seated, Lady Catherine interrogated Elizabeth as she was the only member of the party a stranger to her ladyship.
"Are all your sisters out?"
"Yes, Ma'am."
"The youngest out, when there are three older who are yet unmarried? That is poorly done. You shall tell your father I said as much."
"I assure you I shall when next I see him. He will be eager to hear the story of how a woman such as yourself advised him in such a matter."
"Hmph. He does not strike me as a clever fellow. Is it true your father has set nothing aside for your dowry? I cannot believe it, but Mr. Collins insists that is true, and he ought to know."
"I will not contradict a clergyman."
"Well… it is your own affair if you are to be spendthrift. But I would strenuously advise you to save something. It shocks me that Darcy's friend, Mr. Bingley, married your sister under such circumstances. It does not speak highly of his sense. Had he come to me for advice, I would've strenuously advised him against it. It does not surprise me that Darcy would have such an imprudent fellow for his closest friend."
Lady Catherine now turned her owl like gaze on Mr. Darcy. "This is another advice for you: don't follow your friend. Promise you shall not let your base emotions control your reason like he did. As a Darcy you must be susceptible to the low arts and allurements a grasping woman might use, but your Fitzwilliam blood should let you rise above it."
"I promise you I will only let noble emotions control me."
Elizabeth caught Darcy's meaningful gaze, and she flushed.
Lady Catherine continued her inquisition. No matter was beneath her concern. She wished to know Elizabeth's age — had she had a governess? Had she exposed her lungs to the sea air for more than an hour at a time at Ramsgate? Was it true she engaged in the deplorable practice of reading novels?
Despite the intrusiveness of her questions, Lady Catherine's bluntness made Elizabeth feel more goodwill towards her than she had expected to. There was something likable in the woman's sublime self-assurance.
Eventually Lady Catherine's interest shifted to other persons. Darcy was proud of Elizabeth. She had sweetly kept her temper during Lady Catherine's interrogation.
When Lady Catherine's attention left Elizabeth, Darcy nudged her and pointed at a huge portrait of a bareheaded soldier on horseback that hung above the dinner table. The man had long flowing hair and wore the clothes of the seventeenth century. Having Elizabeth's attention, Darcy whispered to her, "Lady Catherine will tell you that is Sir Lewis's ancestor, who fought for Charles against parliament."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, and the edges of her lips curled up. "An impressive portrait and pedigree."
"The portrait is impressive, but the pedigree… Were it true, it would be so." Darcy kept his smile small to avoid questions from Lady Catherine. "The old steward who lived here when I was a boy swore it had belonged to the family Sir Lewis's father bought this estate from — the de Bourgh family fortune was made plundering Bengal with Clive. To make himself look greater, Lady Catherine's father-in-law always told visitors how the portrait belonged to one of his ancestors."
"Oh." Elizabeth glanced between the portrait and Lady Catherine. "If the story is true, do you think your aunt knows?"
Darcy snickered and then coughed to hide the sound. With a red face he replied to Elizabeth, "I had never thought on the matter. The first baronet would have told my grandparents that story when his son was courting Lady Catherine. And I heard that Lady Catherine's character was much like it is now, only younger."
"So she believes the portrait belonged to Sir Lewis's ancestor." Elizabeth whispered, "Has she told the story to many people?"
"Heavens! She has — we must warn her."
The sound of Elizabeth's giggles caught Lady Catherine's attention. "Miss Bennet, what amuses you?"
"Nothing, ma'am."
"Do you often laugh?"
Elizabeth pursed her lips, confused by this line of questioning. "I do, ma'am. I dearly love a good laugh."
"Hmph." Lady Catherine sniffed at her grandly. "You should cease. Laughter is an abominable habit. I never laugh myself. You are close enough to a gentlewoman that you should cast off such vulgar behaviors."
"It would not be very amusing to break my habit of laughing."
Lady Catherine frowned. "You are a forward and impertinent girl. You are a little charming, but you should seek to rein in your pride and self-certainty."
Elizabeth was too engaged suppressing a smile to think of a good reply. Lady Catherine was the absolute last woman in the world with the right to accuse another of having too much pride and self-certainty. She must write a letter to Papa just to describe meeting Lady Catherine.
Lady Catherine added, "A little confidence is no bad feature in a woman, but you must mix it with a proper respect for those of greater rank than yourself. You are young yet, and I have hope you will come to judge better in time — no well-bred girl would laugh so much as you do. An occasional smile is sufficient to show amusement. When I was a girl, every gentleman was taught to keep his mouth shut and only smiled politely to show amusement. It was Cits and peasants who laughed."
Lady Catherine turned to Darcy. "I knew how useless your father was the first time I heard him laugh. I should have warned Anne off. Ever since I understood what a mistake I made…"
There was an awkward silence, and Lady Catherine seemed to expect Darcy to insult his father as well. Darcy's face was closed, and Elizabeth's amusement died. To attack Darcy in that way, in front of those outside of the family. Horrid, overbearing woman.
Elizabeth nudged Darcy's leg with her foot, and he looked up at her. She smiled at him, and he briefly smiled back.