Page 50 of Heiress of Longbourn (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Elizabeth actually squeaked in astonishment, and Darcy and Fitzwilliam both took a shocked step backwards at the sight before them. Anne de Bourgh had always been a cipher to Elizabeth – quiet, pale, listless, essentially a non-entity. The woman who now stood before them seemed an entirely different creature, her usually vapid countenance flushed in outrage, her small form rigid and defiant.
“Anne?!” Darcy choked out. “Where did you come from and what are you doing here?”
“I was in my office, which is through that concealed section of paneling,” the woman replied crisply. “I was informed that you have been in a remarkably odd mood since last night, and sought to learn why. I have discovered far more than I had imagined.”
Darcy stared at his cousin with a mixture of outrage and chagrin. “You eavesdropped on our conversation?”
“I did,” Miss de Bourgh declared boldly. “Miss Bennet, I am sorry that my cousin recommended himself to you so poorly; he is a very decent man, but regrettably most arrogant. I confess to being disappointed, as I believe you and he would do quite well together.”
Darcy gasped in shock, and Elizabeth blurted out, “You ... you do not mind that Mr. Darcy proposed marriage to me?”
Anne laughed, causing her face to light up in a most unexpected way. “Not at all. I never anticipated a marriage proposal from Darcy – indeed, if he had proposed, I would have rejected him.”
“I do not believe your mother is of the same view,” Richard Fitzwilliam stated.
“Well, as to that,” the young woman began, and then turned as the door opened to reveal Lady Catherine de Bourgh, dressed in her usual ostentatious manner, her face a mask of superiority and conceit.
“What is happening here?” she demanded querulously. “Miss Bennet, are you aware that you have been a long time away from the parsonage? Mr. Collins is quite disturbed and is crying out for search parties.”
“I am sorry, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth responded, struggling to keep her voice calm. “I met with Colonel Fitzwilliam and...”
“Mother,” Anne de Bourgh interrupted, and her voice, though quiet, held such a note of authority that Elizabeth fell silent. She stared in astonishment as the woman lifted her right hand toward her mother, showing off a strange ring with the impressed image of an elaborate letter ‘D’ entwined in a small flower.
Lady Catherine caught her breath in astonishment. “You are entirely sure, Anne?”
“Yes, Mother.”
The autocratic mistress of Rosings gazed into her daughter’s eyes for a long moment and then walked to the door of the library to speak to the butler, who was waiting outside. “Mr. Notley, send Thomas up to guard Miss de Bourgh’s office, and tell him that we are not to be disturbed.”
“Yes, Madam.”
“You must also send a message to the parsonage, informing them that Miss Bennet is safely here with me and that we will send her back after tea.”
“Yes, Lady Catherine.”
The noblewoman shut the door firmly behind her and gestured toward the mysterious open door. “Come, let us go into Anne’s office, shall we?”
Elizabeth, her eyes wide with wonder, took Colonel Fitzwilliam’s proffered arm and together they walked through the previously hidden door into a new room, whereupon she sucked in an astonished breath.
She had long thought that Rosings was overly ostentatious, its furnishings gaudy, ornate, and lacking in good taste. But this room was different; the wooden desk was simple, large and gleaming, the chairs covered in sedate dark blue. Bookshelves covered one wall from floor to ceiling, and hundreds of tomes stood in orderly rows. There were no decorations save a portrait of a well-dressed middle-aged man, which hung against the wall behind the desk.
“What is this, Anne?” Colonel Fitzwilliam managed to say in an awed voice. “I have never seen this room.”
“Of course you have not,” Anne de Bourgh returned, waving her guests into a circle of chairs near the window. “But come, I will elucidate all in time.”
Elizabeth obediently sat down and found herself with Mr. Darcy on one side and Colonel Fitzwilliam on the other. She felt quite unnerved to be in the presence of her recent suitor, but her confusion over Miss de Bourgh and Lady Catherine’s odd behavior was uppermost in her mind.
“Lady Catherine, what is happening here?” Colonel Fitzwilliam demanded, echoing Elizabeth’s thoughts.
The lady shook her head with typical imperiousness. “All will be explained, but I must first learn what has come to pass. Anne?”
Anne de Bourgh leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles elegantly. “It is simple enough, Mother. I heard from Hastings that Darcy has been in a pother since last night, and when he hid himself in the library, I decided to repair to my office in hopes of learning what had him so distressed. Miss Bennet and the Colonel arrived in the library some minutes ago, and I listened in on their conversation. Darcy offered Miss Bennet his hand in marriage last night.”
Elizabeth quailed inwardly at these calm words. She was not afraid of Lady Catherine, but the last day had been so full of emotional upheaval that she felt ill-prepared for a tantrum from the mistress of Rosings.
“Did he indeed?” Lady Catherine asked, a broad smile filling her face, “Congratulations, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth was too shocked to respond, so it was left to Anne to explain the situation. “I fear she refused him, Mother, because Darcy botched his offer.”
Darcy emitted a miserable groan and Elizabeth, with a doubtful look at him, managed to explain, “I would have refused Mr. Darcy regardless, but the mode of his declaration was such that I ... I was not...”
“I thought you wished Darcy to marry Anne,” the Colonel declared, kindly stepping into the verbal breach. “You have said so since they were children.”
The lady waved her right hand airily. “I never thought that Darcy would actually offer for Anne, and if he had, she would have rejected him. No man should attempt to oversee two vast estates, especially when they are many counties apart.”
“Then why did you speak of our potential marriage so frequently?” Darcy demanded harshly, even as he surreptitiously used his right hand to pinch his left. The mild pain indicated that he was indeed awake, not dreaming, though this all seemed more like a nightmare than anything else.
“All will be explained in time, after I provide more necessary information to my mother,” Anne declared, turning back to the older woman. “Do you remember George Wickham?”
“The steward’s son? Yes, what of him?”
“Last summer, he followed Georgiana to Ramsgate and attempted to convince her to elope with him. I gather that he failed to carry her off, but it was a near thing and a most grievous affair.”
Before Elizabeth’s startled eyes, Lady Catherine actually turned white and swayed slightly in her chair. “Was Georgiana ... physically harmed?”
Darcy stared at her in blank confusion for two seconds and then, horrified, rushed into speech. “No, no! I arrived by chance shortly before the planned elopement, and Georgiana told me all. I tossed Wickham out into the street and removed Mrs. Younge, Georgiana’s companion, from the house. She was, most regrettably, in league with Wickham in the plot to deceive my sweet sister.”
“And where is Wickham now?” Lady Catherine demanded sharply, her face recovering its normal hue.
“He is in Meryton, Hertfordshire,” Elizabeth explained, “which is the small town near my home of Longbourn. He is an officer in a militia regiment currently stationed there, and regrettably much admired for both his good looks and charming manners, which obviously conceal a thoroughly vile character.”
“Nothing has been done to punish him for his attempt to run away with Georgiana?” Lady Catherine inquired indignantly.
Darcy shook his head. “Her reputation is in his hands, Lady Catherine. If word were to get out ...”
He trailed off miserably, and Lady Catherine and her daughter exchanged a long, meaningful look.
“I quite see what you mean, Anne,” her mother declared.
“Yes,” the young lady answered gravely. “It is a task for the League of the Golden Daffodil.”