Page 46 of Beyond Pride, Past Prejudice

Mr Darcy did not appear at Longbourn, but a private courier from London handed her a letter.

Her heart leapt painfully, hoping it might be from Mr Darcy, but it was from Lady Oakham.

Elizabeth leant briefly against the hall table to steady her racing heart, then, with quiet resolve, fled to her room, far from everybody else.

With a tone poised somewhere between sarcasm and satisfaction, Lady Oakham recounted, in vivid detail, how, only two days prior, Lady Catherine had stormed into the Matlock residence, her voice trembling with indignation, lamenting the scandalous behaviour of London ladies in pursuit of wealthy husbands.

In the same theatrical way, she had shut herself in the library with her brother and sister-in-law.

It was unmistakably clear that Lady Catherine had come on account of Mr Darcy and that she had learnt of the whole affair from Lord or Lady Matlock.

I cast a reproachful glance at Anne, but her face, serene and guileless, betrayed no sign of foreknowledge regarding her mother’s impending visit.

After our return from Bath, Anne resumed her place in our household at Darcy’s express insistence.

And we all understood that, amid the storm of emotions he endured, he desired no witnesses.

Anne knew nothing of her mother’s intentions, and indeed, the poor girl appeared terrified by Lady Catherine’s arrival.

As you might imagine, I felt a deep and sudden pity for her, yet my interest was utterly focused on what news Lady Catherine brought.

I would have given much to be in that library, to witness the storm unfold and hear every word exchanged.

While we waited for their return, not a syllable passed between us—Anne and I—seated in silence, both beset with anxiety, though likely for differing reasons.

Less than an hour later, Lady Catherine departed in the same tempestuous manner in which she had arrived, this time accompanied by Lord Matlock, a development that only deepened my apprehension and curiosity, I must confess, in all honesty.

But the cheerful countenance of Lady Matlock upon her return to the drawing-room brought a measure of relief.

With a lightness in her step, she shared that Lady Catherine had left with Lord Matlock, intent upon confronting Lady Olivia in person and defending, according to her own fiery declaration, the union between Darcy and her daughter.

Imagine my relief that he could finally be saved from that malicious young lady, and Anne’s deep and continuing embarrassment told us that she did not intend to marry her cousin, no matter what her mother would do.

Elizabeth paused in her reading. Although tears coursed down her cheeks, a faint smile flickered in her eyes.

Everything had taken on—again—on the form of a well-known burlesque play, each figure stepping forth to perform their assigned role.

Only now the mother of the presumed bride was not Mrs Bennet but Lady Catherine—a role Elizabeth could easily imagine her playing.

The difference, however, lay in influence: her own mother had been powerless to restore Mr Bingley, whereas Lady Catherine appeared to possess the means.

Elizabeth could not yet discern precisely what those means were, but for the first time in days, she allowed herself to hope. Silently, she returned to the letter.

More than three hours later, Lord Matlock and Lady Catherine returned. I heard the commotion of their entrance in the hall. Yet only Lady Catherine appeared in the drawing-room, where she collapsed, visibly spent, into a chair. And yet, the news she brought was no less than extraordinary.

With her characteristic tact, Lady Matlock drew the truth from her sister-in-law, who, in her agitation, at times became nearly incoherent.

‘That woman of easy virtue wished to marry my nephew!’ Lady Catherine cried. To which Lady Matlock, concealing a smile, replied in her calm and composed manner, ‘Lady Catherine, let us refrain from such language.’

‘They are the only words that fit!’ Lady Catherine exclaimed, her voice rising in fury, her face flushed so violently that, for a moment, I feared she might suffer an apoplexy.

It was remarkable that, despite spending only brief intervals in London each year, Lady Catherine knew precisely how to uncover details concerning Lady Olivia.

In short, she and Lord Matlock had descended upon the home of the young woman’s father and, by their presence alone, stirred up a tremendous scandal.

They threatened to do the same before all of London society, where they would lay bare the character and conduct of a young lady who had, more than once, employed disgraceful means in pursuit of an affluent husband.

Lady Catherine had discovered that the very scheme attempted upon Fitzwilliam had also been practised upon the son of Lord Hastings.

Fortunately, Lady Catherine enjoyed the favour of a friend of Lord Hastings, a hunting companion of her late husband, and the tale, it seemed, was notorious in certain circles.

Elizabeth paused once more, this time to draw breath in relief. The accusations were grave enough that Lady Olivia was assuredly erased from Mr Darcy’s life. No young lady’s honour could survive such charges, spoken with such certainty and force.

Dearest Elizabeth , the letter continued, nothing is yet lost. I pray you keep hope alive, for the matter may yet be set aright.

Give Fitzwilliam time. Let him recover from this ordeal, then carefully consider the idea of meeting him again.

Forget the sunny south, at least for the moment.

That plan to travel north in July is the wisest course you could follow.

But beware: now that Lady Catherine believes she has preserved his ‘honour’, she is persuaded that a marriage between Fitzwilliam and Anne will shortly take place. Act swiftly. Meet him. Speak to him.

Thankfully, he is preparing to return to Pemberley. There, he will have time for solitude, for reflection, for determining what he truly desires.

Lady Matlock has offered your aunt a place to stay at our home near Lambton. Matlock House may not rival Pemberley in splendour, but I assure you, you will find comfort there. And it is but ten miles from him.

With affection,

Diana, Lady Oakham

Elizabeth replied to Lady Oakham that very evening.

Her letter, composed with a quiet and measured hand, overflowed with gratitude and affection.

She thanked Lady Oakham for deeming her worthy of becoming Mr Darcy’s wife, yet she asked firmly, and without hesitation, that henceforth destiny be allowed to take its natural course.

Although she had resolved to journey to Derbyshire, she desired that no one inform Mr Darcy of her arrival. She wished to determine, by her own judgment and in her own time, what she truly wanted.

Her letter to Charlotte bore a different character.

There, she confessed her longing to see Mr Darcy, her love for him greater than ever, yet she wished that whatever came to pass would be the result of their own decisions alone.

She had not yet determined how she would proceed, but she contemplated writing directly to him, affording him the choice of whether he wished to see her again.

I hope, dearest Charlotte , she wrote, that I shall have good news to send you from there—good for my heart, for, more than I can say, I long to be Fitzwilliam Darcy’s wife. I am convinced he does not honestly wish to marry Miss de Bourgh. Therefore, nothing is lost, but nothing is gained either.

Upon our arrival, I intend to ask Uncle Gardiner to write to Mr Darcy, as he invited him to do more than once during our time in Bath.

It was no mere formality; Mr Darcy took a genuine interest in the agricultural machines Uncle Gardiner sells, and such a meeting would offer a perfect pretext for their conversation and our reunion.

But regardless of how this journey may end, I am resolved that by its close, I shall have regained my peace.