Page 2

THE DIE IS CAST

Ten days later

L ady Catherine de Bourgh shouldered her way through the front door of Darcy House, heedless of Parsons’s protests that the newly wedded couple was not currently at home to visitors.

“Stuff and nonsense! Darcy’s manners are too good for him ever to turn away his own flesh and blood. To the sitting room! Tell him I demand his presence at once.”

The butler scurried off to find his master.

Lady Catherine sat tapping her foot and thumping her elegant cane on the carpet impatiently for nearly fifteen minutes before her recalcitrant nephew finally appeared, a thunderous expression on his face and his cravat noticeably askew.

His last letter to her had been his furious reply to the protest she had felt duty-bound to share with him upon hearing the news of his engagement.

His words had been bitterly offensive to her eyes, certain though she was that he— her sister’s son —had not truly meant them.

Nevertheless, the fact remained that he had gone and married that fortune hunter.

The least she could do for the family was to make sure that the strumpet Darcy had married was not an embarrassment to them all.

Darcy bowed stiffly. “Lady Catherine, to what do I owe the honour of your presence? We were not informed you were in town.” His expression darkened before he added, in a rather cool voice, “It should not surprise you that Mrs Darcy and I are not receiving guests at present. And in any case, I must tell you, madam, that I will not stand for any discussion or criticism of my dear wife’s qualities or character. ”

She waved her hand dismissively at him. “Yes, yes, the die is cast. Too late for that now. Anne and I have just arrived from Rosings. I have come to offer my advice to Miss Elizabeth Bennet on her dress and comportment, and to assist in her presentation to society.”

“ Mrs Darcy has no need for advice on her dress or comportment?—”

His absurd objection was cut off by her imperious stare. “Let me see her. I am a great proficient in determining the correct cut of a sleeve, the flow of a curtsey, the manner in which a soup spoon must be handled or tea properly served. ”

Darcy cleared his throat and attempted to straighten his ruined cravat. It appeared she had unnerved the foolish boy. Good.

“My wife is occupied with her duties as mistress of the house. Perhaps we shall see you tonight for dinner, a family dinner, at the earl’s home. You are staying at Himdale House, are you not?”

“Ah, yes.” She waved her cane. “Send a card to tell my brother I am on my way. Let them know I expect the blue room. And the yellow room far down the hall for Anne, to save me from listening to her endless wheezing all night! She is far too ill to leave the carriage”—she gestured towards the window—“let alone attend dinner this evening.”

Her nostrils flaring, the great lady leant closer to her nephew.

“And for pity’s sake, Darcy, learn to tie a proper cravat.

Or keep it tied. That woman you married will bring you nothing but public shame.

You have barely digested your breakfast. This is not a decent hour for her to display her arts and allurements. ”

She turned and stalked away.

Furious at and suspicious of his aunt’s words, Darcy disregarded her demand to send notice of her arrival to Himdale House and returned to the morning room, still trying to fix his cravat.

He decided it was hopeless and left the ends dangling down his chest. Throckmorton would have to tie it again for the third time in as many hours, and Darcy had to hope the man would not become so resentful as to curse him with a Mailcoach knot the following day.

A shiver ran through him at the thought.

He might as well just stay at home in that condition.

As he entered the room, he found Elizabeth reclining on the settee sipping a cup of tea, resplendent in a yellow day-dress, a veritable ray of sunshine.

She glanced up at him, clearly noticing his open collar, where a tiny triangle of flesh was revealed.

He watched her pupils shoot open, and she bit her lip.

Blast, but to go from the deadly talons of a harpy to this, this wondrous joy of his life!

“Are you well? What brought your esteemed aunt to Darcy House?” she enquired.

“I am perfectly well,” he said, lowering himself to sit beside her.

“But why is she in town? I thought she hated London.”

Why indeed? She loathes it, for here she must show deference to those who are her social superiors, and she despises acknowledging her own lower station. She prefers to hold court in Kent, surrounding herself with sycophants and being cruelly contemptuous to all within her fiefdom.

Darcy did not speak his thoughts, determined as he was not to dwell on any subject that would dampen the happy glow of his darling wife, but managed a few words in reply. “She came to inform me she would join us later this evening at Himdale House.”

“Is that so?” She arched an eyebrow and seemed to be waiting for him to continue. He did not. “Nothing more?”

Now that he had abandoned hope of fixing his cravat, he cast about for something to do with his hands.

He spied a basket on the floor next to Elizabeth containing her needlework and reached towards it.

He picked up the embroidery with some curiosity.

“What have we here?” he asked, before thinking better of it and snapping his mouth closed.

It was a fine piece of linen, but he could not quite make out the design on the lumpy, distorted fabric.

He thought perhaps it was an image of a pig driving a phaeton.

Upon closer inspection, it was revealed to be a turnip on stilts, which seemed equally unlikely.

“Do not evade the question.” Elizabeth nudged him with her elbow. “I shall tell you about my embroidery if you tell me what your aunt said.”

He grumbled a bit before agreeing. “By all means, proceed. ”

“Last summer, I wished to preserve impressions of Derbyshire from my sojourn there, so I made this”—she reached back into the basket and pulled out a sheet of paper—“sketch of Pemberley, which I plan to embroider upon your handkerchiefs. And mine. What say you?”

Darcy cleared his throat and feigned a small cough as he took a moment to consider his reply, holding up the work in its small frame to examine it in more detail.

It looked even worse from this angle. “I am both touched and delighted that you wish to have a constant reminder of Pemberley. Thank you, my dear.”

“Do you not think it a good likeness?”

Darcy coughed again. “Have I told you yet today how ardently I love and admire you?”

She laughed openly at his evasion. “I know precisely how terrible my stitching skills are. There is no need to spare my feelings. Even I am not sure how my drawing of Pemberley has come to look like a pig in a carriage.”

“I assure you, that is not the case.” Privately, he reminded himself this statement was not untrue because, after all, the image more resembled a large root vegetable on sticks than a porcine coachman.

“What a lovely man you are.” She patted his arm with great affection.

“Now that I have answered your questions, let us return to your half of our bargain. What did your aunt have to say? Why is she here in town? Has she brought us a wedding gift?” She laughed lightly, but he could sense unease beneath her teasing.

Darcy absently plucked the needle from the linen, his choler rising once again. Stabbing the point into the cloth with some force, he gritted out, “She was offensive as usual.”

“It pains me to know she spoke to you in such a dreadful manner.”

“No matter. It means nothing if she wishes to insult me, but I will never countenance her speaking ill of you,” he fumed, placing the mangled embroidery on his leg as he reached for her hand.

“Oh my. She came all this way to abuse my character? What is it this time?”

“I would prefer not to say.”

“Truly, it is all right. If I am fully informed, perhaps I can be of more help. And if nothing else, we can stand by each other’s side while she does her worst.”

Darcy muttered in reluctant agreement as he stared distractedly at the embroidery. The turnip looked rather like his aunt, he reflected. He released Elizabeth’s hand and stabbed the tuber again, only to sink the needle straight through the linen into his thigh.

He yelped and gave an aggravated sigh as he jerked the offending object from his leg. Elizabeth looked at him worriedly and touched a finger to the pinhole in his trousers. “Fitzwilliam?”

“She has proposed to help ease your way into London society.”

Silence.

“Really?” Elizabeth said without emotion. “In other words, she thinks I am not up to the task.”

“As I said, I prefer not to elaborate.”

“Ah. And yet she has ceased openly opposing our marriage.”

“I believe there is no longer anything in it for her,” he said. “My uncle has made clear his condemnation of her earlier words.”

“Hmm. So, she wishes to lead me further astray somehow?”

“She has offered her services in the areas of etiquette, conduct, and fashion.”

Elizabeth snickered, and Darcy began to relax slightly as the ridiculousness of Lady Catherine’s suggestion came clear. He hardly noticed as his wife took the embroidery frame from his hand and put it back in the basket.

“My aunt is prepared to tutor you in appropriate modes of conversation.” He barked out a laugh and was pleased when Elizabeth giggled.

“Do you suppose she would have me speak so often and so loudly as to prevent all others in my company from uttering a syllable? To overwhelm my betters with obsequious observations about her cook’s roasted parsnips?

” Smirking, she tapped her chin as if in deep thought. “Or simply not to say a word?”

“The last, I rather expect.”

“Like her daughter? Would she have me become Anne’s twin?” She shook her head quickly. “No, that is cruel. The poor girl has listened to her mother all these years without other female guidance.”

“Anne refused the advice and efforts of Lady Matlock, and rejected my offers to host her at Pemberley. While I cannot admire her mode of dress or insipid conversational gambits, she is as decided in them as is her mother. You,” said Darcy as he leant in to steal a kiss, “have not yet met the true Anne.”

Elizabeth’s nose wrinkled adorably as she considered this. He was compelled to kiss it. “Would that Lady Catherine or any lady had your charm, if not your proficiency in compelling my love and adoration.”

She pulled away and said primly, “If your aunt’s proficiency in teaching me all that a lady of the ton should know of etiquette, deportment, ladylike conversation, bon mots, and the like, is as great as she believes, then there is no question I shall be society’s first diamond.”

“Her lessons would turn all of society against you.”

Darcy stared at his beloved wife, who burst into laughter.

“It is a thought, dearest, to give Lady Catherine the opportunity to prove her proficiency. As we have ascertained, my needlework skills could use some improvement. Perhaps this should be the first area in which your esteemed aunt could instruct me.” She collapsed in a fit of giggles while he involuntarily snorted and then felt appalled at his own action.

“Elizabeth, you are not actually considering this, are you?”

“Of course I am! We must repair this rift in the family. It will not do. She has extended an olive branch, so let us take it.”

“More like an olive twig spiked with poisonous thorns.”

“Surely olive trees do not have thorns?”

“Some do,” he said, warming to the subject of horticulture before reminding himself it was only a metaphor. “But you mistake my point.”

“No, I understand your meaning. I recognise the danger in accepting her offer. We shall simply be very circumspect and counter her stratagems with our own.”

He frowned, dismayed if unsurprised at Elizabeth’s willingness to mollify his termagant of an aunt.

“I fear this is an unwise course of action, my love. She is likely scheming to damage you in the eyes of the ton . I would much rather depart for Pemberley to begin our life together there. We have been wed only a se’nnight. ”

Her eyes softened at his pout, and he was glad of it. Perhaps she will deny my aunt her company. But no, Elizabeth merely touched his cheek and smiled.

“Of course, my love, and I despise any moment we are parted, but let us try. Perhaps she is sincere in her offer, as improbable as that is. But more importantly, I despise that your estrangement from your aunt will keep you from your cousin’s company.

You are fond of Anne, and I believe she needs you. ”

She kissed his ear before sitting back and, with a determined look, adding, “It is nearly December, and other than those lingering in town because Parliament demands their presence, most people whose opinions of me would matter are gone to their estates. The timing for this ‘tutoring’ could not be better.”

He had to concede the point—all her points, truly. “Very well. One week, that is all. I will not have you subjected to her machinations any longer than that. Less if her intentions are truly malicious.”

“That is settled, then. Let us broach the topic with her this evening.” Elizabeth leant towards him. “Now, where were we when your aunt so rudely interrupted us?”