Page 85

Miss Catherine took a serene sip of tea, seemingly unmoved. “I am so happy that you recognize just how much your son loves me. Please understand just how deeply I love him in return. I will do everything within my power to see him truly happy, no matter the obstacle.”

“Yes, my son has used that word quite a lot. In my day, it was considered vulgar to bring up emotions and topics like love .” Lady Matlock wondered how a girl of nineteen from the country could maintain her composure and attempt to take control of their meeting.

Shouldn’t she have caved before now? “ Love is not something people of the higher circles concern themselves with. I understand that people with your ascendants may become fixated on such things, but it is not my choice to have my son dragged down to your level.” To hell with civility , Lady Matlock thought as she felt her composure quickly unraveling.

“Surely, as a mother, you love your son.” With a pause, Mrs. Darcy's eyebrow arched inquisitively, silently questioning. “Your only remaining son, I might add. Or are you insinuating that you feel no love or dedication towards your own son?”

Sitting up straight, Lady Matlock eyed her niece-in-law and the girl her son was falling under the spell of. They remained unimpressed and undaunted by her countess title and her authority in the ton. “I assure you I feel all that is proper .”

“I am sure that you do.” Miss Catherine put her teacup down on its saucer.

“I do thank you for the kind invitation to tea. It has been reassuring to know just where you stand on my relationship with your son. I know you are a busy woman, and we shall not keep you from your plans. My sister and I must get back home and see to our own plans.”

Panic threatened to rise as Lady Matlock realized her opportunity to disparage the girl was quickly unraveling.

“Well, if you feel that you must leave. Until the Covington Ball, stay safe, and I look forward to seeing you.

It will be interesting to see what a stir your courting my son will make.

Bear in mind, the ton can be thorny, so it's wise to approach your dealings with prudence. Gossip has a way of unearthing secrets, and it can be merciless in its delivery.” Pausing, she put down her teacup and stood before standing and brushing out her skirt.

As she smiled at Miss Catherine, her stare remained frigid, silently communicating her disdain.

“I would hate for the love you seem to share with my son to be tested so soon in your relationship.”

Moving to the door, the sisters gathered their outer things and prepared to leave. “Do remember to put the flowers my sister sent in to water. She put a lot of thought into the selection of each bloom,” Miss Catherine reminded her as they started out the door.

“Of course,,” Lady Matlock replied with a smile that fell as soon as the door closed behind them. She promptly removed herself to her own private sitting room.

How had it gone so wrong? Miss Catherine had never impressed her much.

She had always seemed quiet and unassuming when they had met in the past. She had hoped that even if she could not convince her son to abandon the chit, that she would be able to run roughshod over the girl and still get her way.

Why did her son have to fall for someone with a backbone? It would ruin all her plans.

They were not conforming to the roles she wished them to fill.

It was becoming clear to her that this would be a tougher challenge than she had initially thought.

She could find solace in the fact that the other pieces of her plan were falling into place swiftly, leading towards the conclusion she had set in motion.

The Bennet chit may be laughing and confident of her position now, but Lady Matlock would be the one laughing at the Covington Ball.

Elizabeth waited until they were far enough away from Matlock House to not be overheard when she asked, “Just what did Lydia put in that bouquet?”

“You know our dear sister so well,” Catherine replied with a mischievous grin.

“Let's see, there was a hydrangea for boastful vanity.

I am assuming she was implying it was a trait of Lady Matlock, not me.

Orange lily for hatred, and yellow carnation for disdain.

I also saw some tansies, which I think means a threat of war.

I presume Lydia is saying she senses the lady's conceited vanity and sees through her facade to her true self. It is also possible that Lydia is threatening to declare war on Lady Matlock if she treats me with disdain or hatred.” Looking at Elizabeth, Catherine burst into peals of laughter before leaning up against her sister who linked arms with her as they walked. “I love my sisters,” she declared.

“Ah, Lydia is such a dear, and so fond of floriography. Who knew that when she got her hands on that little French book, she would immerse herself in its pages, discovering a newfound passion for the language of flowers,” Elizabeth said happily as they approached their home.

Once they had entered Darcy House and made it up the stairs, Elizabeth turned to her sister and asked, “How does it make you feel to have Lady Matlock as an enemy?”

“Well, I think it helps to know that she would have treated any girl her son chose who was unwilling to comply with her dominance the same. I am sure she has a very biddable debutante chosen for him. I have heard Theodore speak of a Lady Lavinia before.” Catherine sat down and made herself comfortable in her favorite chair in Elizabeth’s sitting room.

“On the other hand, I am not overly fond of having another person like our father to deal with.”

“I do not want that for you either. It is enough to deal with one horribly controlling person in a lifetime. I am lucky, I suppose, that both of William’s parents had passed before we met.

I am uncertain they would have approved of me.

Sometimes, when I hear about how they mistreated him, I feel a burning desire to give them a piece of my mind.

Maybe they are the lucky ones.” Elizabeth sat down next to Catherine and took her shoes off, tucking her feet under herself as she sat.

“You know you have our whole family behind you, no matter what you do or what your struggles are.

Is Theodore worth the frustration and annoyance of constantly dealing with his mother's overbearing personality?”

Catherine shot her sister a look of disbelief. “Of course he is,” she answered before leaning back in her chair, staring off into the room. “You know she must be up to something. The real question is what is his mother plotting?”