Page 54 of Intrigue and Inheritance (Crime and Consequences #3)
Chapter Nineteen
Elizabeth had been enjoying a rare moment of solitude in the morning room, composing a letter to her sister Jane, when Harrison announced an unexpected visitor with an expression that managed to be both perfectly correct and subtly apologetic.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh swept into the room before Elizabeth could properly set aside her writing materials, her imposing figure clad in rich purple silk that rustled with each decisive step.
The older woman’s features were set in lines of disapproval that Elizabeth had come to recognize all too well during her acquaintance with Darcy’s formidable aunt.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Lady Catherine pronounced her name with the same inflection one might use when discovering an insect in one’s soup. “I find myself obliged to arrive without proper notice, as it seems matters of great importance concerning my daughter have been kept from me.”
Elizabeth rose, curtseying with perfect correctness despite her internal dismay at this unannounced visitation, and desperately wishing Darcy were at home.
Unfortunately, he had left not half an hour earlier for his club, and was unlikely to return until the afternoon.
“I was not aware there was any cause for alarm regarding Anne. She has been in excellent health and spirits during her stay with us.”
“Health? Spirits?” Lady Catherine waved away these considerations as though they were entirely inconsequential. “I speak of her establishment, Mrs. Darcy. Anne has been in London four months, yet she remains unattached. This is most irregular and suggests serious neglect of her interests.”
“I assure you, Anne’s interests have been our primary concern,” Elizabeth replied, keeping her tone mild despite the accusation. “We have introduced her to respectable society and encouraged her to form her own judgments about potential suitors.”
Lady Catherine’s eyebrows rose nearly to her cap at this statement.
“Form her own judgments? Anne has never been required to form judgments of any consequence. It is the duty of her elders and betters to determine suitable matches. I had thought my nephew, at least, would understand this responsibility, however much you might have influenced him toward more... modern notions.”
Before Elizabeth could formulate a suitably diplomatic response to this pointed remark, Harrison appeared at the door.
“Mrs. Darcy, the florist has arrived regarding the arrangements for tonight’s dinner. Shall I direct him to the dining room as planned?”
Elizabeth silently blessed the interruption, which provided a momentary reprieve. “Yes, thank you, Harrison. I shall speak with him shortly.”
“Dinner?” Lady Catherine’s hawk-like gaze fixed on Elizabeth with renewed intensity. “You are entertaining this evening?”
“A small gathering of friends and family, nothing elaborate,” Elizabeth explained, though she knew any gathering deemed “small” by the Darcys would still be considered substantial by most households.
“And who, pray, are these friends and family to whom you extend such hospitality while my daughter remains unpromised?”
Elizabeth suppressed a sigh, recognizing the direction of Lady Catherine’s interrogation. “Lord and Lady Matlock, of course, and several acquaintances from this Season, including Lord and Lady Barrington, Viscount Shandly, Mr. Townend, and Mr. Hislop, among others.”
“Hislop?” Lady Catherine repeated the name as though testing its flavour and finding it wanting. “I am unfamiliar with this family. Who is this Mr. Hislop?”
“A gentleman of good family from Worcestershire,” Elizabeth replied carefully. “He shares Anne’s interest in horsemanship and has been a regular visitor these past weeks.”
Lady Catherine’s expression sharpened into something resembling a raptor sighting prey. “Horsemanship? Anne has no interest in such matters. Her constitution has never permitted strenuous activities of any sort.”
“On the contrary, Anne has proven knowledgeable about classical dressage and equine bloodlines,” Elizabeth countered, unable to let this mischaracterization pass unchallenged. “She has been riding regularly since arriving in London and shows remarkable skill as well as enjoyment of the pastime.”
“Riding? Anne?” Lady Catherine’s voice rose in astonishment. “This is precisely the sort of reckless endangerment I feared when entrusting her to your care! Her health is far too delicate for such exertions.”
“Her health has improved considerably with regular exercise,” Elizabeth insisted gently. “Dr. Winters has commented most favourably on the change in her stamina and colour.”
Lady Catherine’s lips compressed into a thin line of disapproval.
“Doctors can be persuaded to say whatever one wishes to hear. I know my daughter’s constitution better than any physician.
” She rose suddenly to her feet, causing Elizabeth to blink in surprise at the abrupt movement.
“I shall stay for this dinner of yours. I wish to observe this horse-mad gentleman who has apparently been permitted such familiar access to my daughter.”
Elizabeth maintained her outward composure despite her inner disquiet at this declaration.
Lady Catherine’s presence would undoubtedly cast a pall over what had promised to be a pleasant evening.
More concerning still was how Anne would react to her mother’s unexpected arrival and evident disapproval.
As if summoned by this thought, the door opened to admit Anne herself, who stopped short upon seeing her mother, her face draining of the healthy colour it had acquired during her weeks in London.
“Mother?” Anne’s voice held a note of disbelief. “I had no word of your coming to town.”
Lady Catherine turned, surveying her daughter with critical eyes.
“Evidently, there are many things of which you have given me no word, Anne. I find you riding horses, entertaining gentlemen of questionable background, and neglecting advantageous offers of marriage, all without a single letter seeking my guidance.”
Anne’s chin lifted slightly, a subtle gesture of defiance that would have been unthinkable mere months ago. “I did not wish to trouble you, Mother. Cousin Darcy and Elizabeth have been most attentive to propriety in all matters.”
“So I am to understand that it was their judgment, not yours, that led to these irregular decisions?” Lady Catherine demanded, her voice sharpening.
“No, Mother,” Anne replied, her voice soft but steady. “The decisions were mine. My cousins have merely supported my choices.”
Elizabeth observed the flash of surprise that crossed Lady Catherine’s features before being quickly masked by renewed displeasure. It was clear she had not expected such direct response from her traditionally compliant daughter.
“Perhaps some tea might be welcome after your journey, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth suggested, moving toward the bell-pull. “Anne, will you join us?”
Anne nodded gratefully, sinking into a chair at a safe distance from her mother. Her hands trembled slightly as she smoothed her skirts, the only outward sign of her distress.
When the tea tray arrived, Elizabeth busied herself with the familiar ritual, finding comfort in its orderliness amid the charged atmosphere. She prepared a cup according to what she recalled of Lady Catherine’s preferences from their encounters at Rosings.
“Here you are, Lady Catherine. With sugar and lemon, as you prefer.”
Lady Catherine’s hand arrested the cup’s progress mid-air. “I have given up sugar entirely these three months past. Two slices of lemon only, if you please. My physician is most insistent about the benefits of citrus for maintaining proper vigour at my time of life.”
Elizabeth prepared a fresh cup accordingly, reflecting that Lady Catherine’s ‘vigour’ seemed in no danger of diminishing, with or without the aid of citrus fruits.
As she handed the cup to her formidable guest, she caught Anne’s eye across the table.
The younger woman’s expression held a mixture of resignation and determination that gave Elizabeth hope.
Despite her evident distress at her mother’s arrival, Anne did not appear prepared to surrender her newfound independence without resistance.
The tea service completed, Elizabeth settled back in her chair, bracing herself for what promised to be a most uncomfortable conversation regarding Anne’s marital prospects and Lady Catherine’s unwelcome plans for the evening ahead.
Matters were not improved when the drawing room door opened to admit Mrs. Jenkinson.
The companion entered with quick, eager steps, her thin face alight upon seeing her employer.
She curtseyed deeply to Lady Catherine, her voice breathless with what Elizabeth recognized as poorly concealed satisfaction.
“My lady! What a blessing that you have arrived. I have been most anxious these many weeks regarding Miss Anne’s welfare.”
Lady Catherine inclined her head regally toward her daughter’s companion. “Mrs. Jenkinson. I am gratified to find at least one person in this household who appreciates the necessity of maternal guidance in delicate matters. Your letters have been most illuminating.”
Elizabeth observed the flash of alarm that crossed Anne’s features at this revelation.
So Mrs. Jenkinson had been sending detailed reports to Lady Catherine, beyond the routine correspondence one might expect.
The knowledge that Anne’s every move and conversation had been scrutinised and reported upon explained much about the companion’s behaviour.
“There have been developments I hesitated to commit to paper,” Mrs. Jenkinson continued, shooting a sidelong glance at Elizabeth.
“Most particularly concerning the Marquess of Byerly, whose suit was actively discouraged by Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, despite his being precisely the sort of advantageous connection of which you would approve.”