Page 68 of Count the Cost (The Secrets of Elizabeth Bennet #2)
A flash of movement at the corner of her eye caused Elizabeth to look up, and she saw a large, ornate carriage proceeding along the curving drive towards the front of the house.
From the morning room window, she would be unable to see it from a closer viewpoint, and she sighed, set aside the latest missive from Mr. Reed, and closed her journal and the ledger.
Setting them neatly ready for her return, she got to her feet and went to the drawing room.
Thankfully, the ladies were within, and had already heard the crunching of gravel. “Who do you think it can be, Eliza?” Charlotte seemed curious.
“I do not know, Charlotte. We will have to wait and see.” But there was not much time to wait; within a moment, the door was opened and the footman was brushed aside as an imperious woman, tall and in an expensive but out of fashion ensemble. She glared around the room.
The footman regained his balance. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh, Miss Bennet.”
“Thank you, Hastings. Please close the door behind you.” Elizabeth was not about to offer the lady refreshments or any more courtesy than necessary; she was incensed at the way the woman had rudely pushed her way into the room.
She drew a breath to introduce Charlotte and Mrs. Bailey, but Lady Catherine did not wait for such courtesies. “You are Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”
Elizabeth lifted an eyebrow. “I am.”
The other waved her hand. “I would speak to you alone.”
“Then you do not speak to me. My friend and our companion remain.”
The lady’s complexion purpled. “Do you not know who I am?”
Elizabeth was very tempted to disclaim all knowledge of her, but decided discretion was better. “I understand you are the patroness of Mr. Collins, the heir to my father’s estate.”
“Then you will refer to me as my station demands!”
“If you accord me the same courtesy.” Elizabeth straightened up, her chin in the air.
The woman’s offence increased. “You can be at no loss to know why I am here. The rumours swirling about my nephew are disgusting. You must have drawn him in with your arts and allurements.” Lady Catherine waved her stick around the drawing room.
“Even this very house screams of why he has placed you here as his mistress!”
“You say too much!” Elizabeth stepped forward, her eyes blazing. “I will not listen to such abuse as this.”
“I will have my say.” The other woman stared down her nose.
“You are nothing but the daughter of an insignificant country gentleman whose estate is entailed away. Your family are vulgar and connected with trade.” She shook her head disgustedly.
“I cannot conceive of why my nephew has been so taken in.”
“Which nephew would that be?” Elizabeth had met Colonel Fitzwilliam at the theatre, so she knew the question would confuse the objectionable woman.
“Obstinate, headstrong girl! You know very well I refer to Darcy. He is intended for my daughter. From their cradles they have been intended for each other.”
“Lady Catherine. I am not here to be abused or slandered. You have said quite enough.” Elizabeth turned to her companions.
“Let us go upstairs until our unwelcome visitor has taken her leave.”
“Not so hasty, if you please!” The woman stepped forward. “I must have my say!”
“Then you must moderate your attack, madam, or you will be speaking to an empty room.”
Lady Catherine made a visible effort to calm herself, but it seemed it was not possible for her insults to stay unspoken.
“You must know that the rumours around the town have spread as far as Rosings. You come from an insignificant country seat, your family are vulgar, your trade connections scandalous, and this — this house is far beyond your means! You are damaging the reputations of the Darcy and Matlock family. Have you no shame?”
Elizabeth stepped forward. “I have heard enough. You will be silent!” She stopped to gather her thoughts.
“I will say this once and then you will leave here and never be readmitted. My family may lack grandeur, but there is affection and joy there, something it appears you lack. My independence and this house are all honestly mine and fully paid for, something of which you cannot conceive, and I will not account to someone so unconnected with me for my choices.” Her chin was in the air; she would not show her shock at the rumours apparently swirling. What should I do?
Her guest began to rage and Elizabeth turned to Charlotte, who gave a commiserating little shrug, but seemed more amused than anything else.
“I suppose Darcy is entitled to have a mistress, but you must be less prominent. This house is too much. And you will promise me you will never marry him!” Elizabeth spun round at the woman’s disgusting words.
“While I have no thought of it, madam, I will certainly make no promises to you about how I will choose to make my life.”
“I knew it! You are determined to ruin him, to drag Pemberley into disgrace. How could you, girl ?”
“I will barter insults with you no longer, madam.” Elizabeth crossed to the mantel and rang the bell. “You will leave this house now.”
When the footman entered, Elizabeth was pleased and amused to see the two others hovering in the hallway behind him. She addressed him loudly enough for them to hear her too.
“Lady Catherine is leaving now. No hospitality is to be offered, she may retire at the inn in the village, has she need of it. She is not to be admitted again.”
She turned to the ladies. “Charlotte, Mrs. Bailey, let us go upstairs. We may have chocolate and pastries to refresh ourselves.”
“Insolent girl!” Lady Catherine quite obviously had to have the last words. “I will know how to act. Darcy will listen to me, and you will be thrown from here very soon. I will not have you polluting the shades of this family.”
Elizabeth could hear her words from the hallway as she made her way upstairs with the ladies. The final thing she heard from Lady Catherine was her snort of rage as she realised she was speaking to an empty room.
In the family room, Elizabeth dropped into an armchair, and drew a trembling hand across her brow.
“I do apologise most sincerely, ladies, that you were present for that. Had I realised she would be so unpleasant, I would have spoken to her alone.”
Charlotte laughed. “I would not have missed it for the world, Eliza. If I had not been there, I would still have believed you could never lose your temper so well.” She chuckled. “I particularly enjoyed seeing her anger increase every time you called her madam instead of my lady.”
Elizabeth winced. “I was very rude.” She turned to her companion. “I am sorry you had to listen to her — and to me having lost my composure.” She sighed and addressed them both.
“But what is being spoken about me that it should have reached her?”
But, within her heart she could think of her real concern. At the wedding I had begun to think we might connect again. But his aunt — will Mr. Darcy withstand her? And what of the rumours? Will he be disgusted?
It was the first time she was concerned that her fate rested not entirely in her own hands.