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FAULTS SUCH AS THESE

A lthough Lady Catherine undoubtedly had a litany of invective and criticism to launch at her before the men joined them in the drawing room, Elizabeth was nearly certain that ‘plant killer’ would not be amongst it.

Philodendrons were known for their hardiness, and three small glasses of sherry could not truly harm one, could they?

She would mention her wicked deed to Lady Matlock before leaving and promise to send over a plant from Darcy House.

She had no regrets for what had transpired when Lady Catherine began demanding they all drink sherry.

Elizabeth knew that as much as mild inebriation might have eased her temper, it also would have loosened her tongue, and it was critical, when the target of Lady Catherine’s interest, to keep her wits sharp and allow the lady to believe her half pickled .

“I recall much of you from our meetings at Rosings. Five daughters, raised without a governess or masters. Thus, you have little acquaintance with a classical education?—”

“I had no masters,” murmured Anne, sitting opposite Elizabeth. She turned and gave her new cousin a small smile as Lady Catherine continued speaking.

“—and are likely accustomed only to country airs played on inferior instruments by locals at assemblies and the like.”

“Very fine entertainment,” Elizabeth said, “if nothing to the Handel and Bach I have heard performed at Vauxhall Gardens or the performance of Cymbelin e I attended with my aunt and uncle Gardiner two years ago.”

“Oh, Elizabeth! You were fortunate to see it.” Georgiana’s obvious pleasure in the subjects of music and theatre supplanted her usual fear of being noticed by her aunt. “My brother has promised to take me—I mean, all of us—to a performance in the new year.”

“That is all well and good, if Miss Bennet has completed her preparation to be a lady of the ton , sitting in the Darcy box rather than with the common rabble.”

“Catherine!” Lady Matlock cried.

“Of course, you are correct, Lady Catherine.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly, amusing herself by mimicking Mr Collins with her hasty agreement.

“The Gardiners and I enjoyed fine seats below those in the exalted boxes above us. We were fortunate none rained disapproval on us with their lemonade and feathers.”

Elizabeth was certain she heard Anne snort, but the sound was muffled by Georgiana’s gasping, “Does such a thing occur?”

Lady Catherine, her eyes narrowed, sighed. “I see the work before me, and I am not daunted.”

The wretched evening mercifully at an end, Elizabeth and Darcy found themselves in their carriage on the way back to Darcy House. Her head fell onto his broad shoulder, a place so comfortable and familiar that she immediately yawned.

“My love, are you well?” Darcy said softly. “My aunt’s description of the lessons she has set for you for this week was outrageous. I should never have agreed to it. Never!”

“Yes, all is well, dearest. Indeed, I think the evening was rather a success.”

“How can that possibly be? Do not tell me you think her unfounded criticisms useful in some way.”

“Not in the way you mean, I think.”

“How, then?”

“As you might have expected, there was a great deal of, shall we say, silliness afoot. Many thoughts expressed in the most direct manner possible,” Elizabeth said, laughing. “But it is my opinion, strangely enough, that what your aunt most craves is someone to listen to her, truly listen to her.”

“What on earth do you mean? She requires everyone around her to listen to her all the time. Regularly. Incessantly.”

Elizabeth nodded. “It is as you say. But for the most part, others only hear her because they must. They are not the same things, being heard and being deeply understood. This is only a feeling I have. I shall keep you apprised if there is any truth to it in the end.” Breathing in her husband’s familiar scent, she said, “Would you care to learn more about my numerous shortcomings and the remedies for them? Lessons begin tomorrow, by the bye.”

“What? You cannot be serious.” Darcy turned and looked at her closely, though within the darkness of the carriage, Elizabeth was uncertain what he might find. She smiled prettily, showing her teeth just to spite Lady Catherine.

“Do you not wish for a day of rest after the evening’s exertions, at least?”

“Oh no. My transformation begins tomorrow afternoon at Lady Catherine’s dressmaker’s. We must order gowns and whatnot now if they are to be ready for making calls next week. And in time to attend the opera.”

Darcy’s left eyebrow rose. The dear man was such a sceptic. “What are you about, Elizabeth? Has she addled your brains entirely, or are you developing a stratagem? Do say it is a stratagem.”

She shrugged. “Time will tell. I may be mistaken. Meanwhile, shall I regale you with a more detailed account of the evening’s happenings in the drawing room?”

Soon they arrived at Darcy House, and once Darcy was clad in his night-shirt and banyan and Elizabeth in her nightgown and robe, they settled themselves on the settee in their private sitting room and she began her tale.

Darcy met much of it with scoffing or by barking his disagreement.

Elizabeth’s soft caresses and assurances did much to calm his temper, until she came to the point that she knew would rankle him most.

“She remains suspicious that I am with child. Or perhaps she thinks me overfed, for though she had many opinions on my hair and gowns, my practice of eating vegetables before cutting into my meat, and my propensity to laugh too often and too loudly, she only stared at my waist.”

“The nerve of her!”

“Which insult do you refer to?” She snuggled more deeply under his arm. “For all those observations are indeed true, except for the possibility I was with child when we wed.”

“You have a beautiful laugh, an infectious laugh. Your preference for peas and carrots over partridge and ham is an odd one?—”

“So said Mr Hurst as well.”

“But to imply by her cold stare that we anticipated our vows! That our marriage could only come about because of a child?”

Elizabeth shrugged. “It is not uncommon, and she is observant enough to see the, um, disarray in which we often present ourselves.” She leant up and kissed him. “I do not think Fitzwilliam Darcy was known for torn cravats and swollen lips before meeting me, was he?”

“Oh Elizabeth, never!” He pulled her back to him for a searing kiss before his lips trailed down her neck.

“Also,” she giggled breathlessly, “I stare too much.”