Page 47

“Oh, but how could you be anything but unwelcome? You did not receive an invitation from my nephew, who is managing this estate. I know neither of my nieces sent an invitation, so you cannot possibly be welcome. You are attempting to disparage one of his guests, who has been nothing but gracious and dignified during her recovery here. Yet you stand here hollering like a fishwife with nothing but ill will and spite spewing from your small mind. Very most unwelcome, I would say, madam.” Guthrie was careful to keep her voice soft and level.

She had found that the key was to never raise her voice or escalate to match her adversary.

It allowed her to maintain her control while the other person lost theirs.

Lady Catherine huffed. “I will have you know I am the daughter of an earl. My husband was a baron. My pedigree is beyond parallel. Certainly higher than anyone in this room.”

“And yet you could not maintain even the barest of civility deemed necessary for society,” Guthrie responded, her voice bland and unmoved.

Lady Catherine refused to be denied. Why was this nobody trying to stop her? “Nephew, I demand you do something. I will have my way!”

“Which nephew are you addressing, Aunt? I think everything is proceeding as it should. Carry on, Darcy, continue as you please.” Theodore had never seen his aunt so provoked; it tickled him to see her so put in her place.

“I will be heard! Fitzwilliam Darcy, come away from that woman now. You do not know the sins she is guilty of. The abuse her family perpetrates,” she exploded, spittle flying from her rabid countenance.

Darcy struggled to confront his aunt. Heightened emotions always made his struggles worse, and the stress of the confrontation threatened to steal his voice.

“I know enough to know that her behavior is beyond reproach, unlike your own.” To his shame, his hands shook.

How could he hope to have a wonderful woman like Elizabeth if he could not defend her to his family?

Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed and her mouth curled into a semblance of a smile as she looked at the older lady.

“Now that you had your chance to speak, it appears you have done what you set out to do and you must be eager to be away from the people you find beneath you. I am sure we all wish you a safe journey.” Elizabeth was furious that Mr. Darcy’s own family had made him so overcome.

Laying her hand over his, she encircled it with her own, hoping the comfort would stop his hands from shaking.

“Unhand him, you strumpet! I know of your manipulative ways. You connivingly arranged to be rescued, and it put yourself in my nephew’s way, but I will not have your interference.

You might have been good enough for my rector, but you let that opportunity slip from your grasp.

You will never be good enough for a gentleman such as my nephew, flawed as he is.

He is engaged to my daughter and has been since he was in his cradle.

” Lady Catherine advanced on the uppity girl, cane flailing in the air as she moved.

Guthrie McDougal forced her voice to maintain its passivity, but her eyes were blue steel.

She had long ago figured out that being kind to everyone was as important as refusing to back down when it became necessary.

“Now, madam, you would not be threatening one of my nephew’s guests, would you?

I have asked you to leave already and I will do so again now.

Please take yourself home. What is going on here is not your concern.

Your family has responded to your cantankerous tirade.

You must have nothing more to say here. Know this: if you take one more step, I will have the groomsmen hold you until the magistrate can be summoned and you will be charged with trespassing and attempted assault. ”

Catherine gasped at the audacity. “You would not dare. I am part of the peerage and above such petty actions.” She never had problems like these back at Rosings; people there knew to give her the respect she deserved.

“No, madam, you have an honorary title from your father the earl, but that does not make you part of the peerage. Being the widow of a baron does not give you any special authority either. You, madam, are a civilian and no better than anyone here. In fact, your nephew Colonel Fitzwilliam—who has earned his rank—is also the child of an earl, and as such, he ranks higher than a mere daughter. They can take you to the gaol just as easily as anyone else, so leave now or that is where you will end up.” Guthrie had summoned the grooms while Lady Catherine was screeching at her nephews, and they arrived as she spoke.

“You would not dare!” Catherine brought her cane down on the ground with a resounding crash.

“The decision is yours.” Guthrie allowed herself a small smile at the woman’s disbelief.

“I will not be denied. You will unhand him and leave his presence.” She reached out to wrench the hussy from her nephew, but a hefty, calloused hand clamped down on her wrist and stopped her.

Pulling her back from the couple, an imposing figure of a man removed her cane from her possession when she attempted to use it to strike at the siren. “Careful, ma’am, you would not want to harm yourself with this. I will just hold it for you.”

“Unhand me!” she screeched.

“Thank you, Bennings. Take her to the stables. You may restrain her if necessary. I have every confidence in your ability. Oh, and see that you send for the magistrate. I apologize in advance. She seems to be especially vociferous.” Turning back to the table, she glanced around at all the wide eyes and grinned.

Theodore was astonished and delighted at the power of Bingley’s aunt. “Ma’am, if you were not already married, I think I would propose. You are magnificent!”

“I am not complaining by any means, but is she really going to be put in the town’s gaol?” Bingley asked.

“Yes, most definitely. It will not hurt her, and I am sure that she has long needed to learn that she is not above everyone the way she feels she is. Regrettably, I doubt the lesson will stay with her for long. Besides, I would not offer her a room for the night, and I am sure she would refuse to stay at the inn. This way, her horses and groomsmen can get some rest tonight. If you excuse me, I will go make the necessary arrangements.” Content with having defended her family, Guthrie left the dining room to speak with the housekeeper.