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“There,” he said. “It is what it is.” He slumped, resting his elbow on the table and his head in his hand.

“I have failed to properly complete the assignment Lady Catherine gave me. It is inexcusable. She will make my life miserable.” He thought about his betrothed and how her uncle had said he had connections in the church.

“Perhaps Mr. Long will use his influence to obtain a living elsewhere for me and I can install a curate to serve Hunsford in my place.” He heaved a sigh of relief at the thought.

Then, he got up and took himself off to bed after placing the missive in a prominent spot where he would remember in the morning to send it off.

~~~***~~~

At Rosings the next day, Lady Catherine accepted the express from her butler. She noted the handwriting with satisfaction and ripped it open with eager hands.

“Who is that from?” Anne entered the room, her companion trailing along behind her.

Lady Catherine glanced up. “Mr. Collins. I gave him an assignment.” She finished reading, a scowl overtaking her features. “However, he seems to have failed at it.”

“I cannot imagine why you would be surprised at that.” Anne settled herself in her favorite chair and adjusted her shawl more tightly around her. “What was his assignment?”

Lady Catherine opened her mouth to answer but paused instead. She glanced briefly at her daughter then looked at the paper in her hand once more. “I sent him to find a wife.” She fought the urge to chew her lip. It would not do to give any indication of unease.

Anne laughed. “Then I can surely see why he failed. What sensible woman would have someone so ridiculous?”

“Indeed.” Lady Catherine folded the missive up once more, slipping it into the reticule that dangled from her wrist. She fell into thought as her only child began to chatter on about something she had read the night before.

An indeterminate amount of time later, Anne’s sharp voice startled her from her contemplations.

“Mother! I asked you a question.”

The elder lady looked up from the spot on the carpet at which she had been staring unseeingly. “I apologize. I was woolgathering. What did you ask me?”

A deep frown marred Anne’s brow. “Pay attention when I am speaking to you,” she snapped. “I should not have to repeat myself.”

“Of course. I am sorry.” Lady Catherine lifted her chin, clenching her jaw as she did so.

“I asked you how the renovation of the dower house was going.”

“I do not know. I am uncertain if the steward has begun it.” Rosings’ mistress gripped a fistful of her skirt. She sniffed, doing her best to appear haughty. “I cannot fathom why you think it so important. Once you and Darcy marry, you will live at Pemberley and I will remain here to run Rosings.”

Anne rose, her countenance reddening and her hands forming fists. “I am not going to marry Darcy. I have told you this time and again.” She took a step toward her mother. “I thought I made myself clear enough the last time the topic arose. Do I have to repeat myself?”

Lady Catherine involuntarily flinched when Anne stepped toward her.

The memory of the last episode was still vivid.

She would not have brought the subject up again, but she was desperate to be rid of her only living child’s presence in her daily life and marrying her off was the only way she could see it being done.

She was certainly not going to leave her home of nearly thirty years.

It would be Anne who must go. She wished to shout that at the recalcitrant child, but refrained.

Instead, she took a deep breath and reiterated her oft-shared reasoning.

“You and your cousin were formed for each other. You both descend from the same noble line. The joining of two such valuable estates will create a massive and powerful dynasty. You will be the matriarch of the wealthiest family in all England. And, it was the deepest wish of both myself and my dearly departed sister, for whom you are named.” She lifted her chin, looking down her nose, her brow creased.

Anne rolled her eyes. “I do not care, Mother. How many times do I have to repeat myself? I do not have to marry. I have Rosings. I have no need or desire to move to Derbyshire and suffer through those cold winters. I will marry as I wish and only if I want to. I do not have to do a single thing you tell me I must and you are deluding yourself if you think I do.” She took a further step, decreasing the gap between herself and Lady Catherine.

“Again I ask, do I have to repeat myself?”

The matron clenched her jaw. Despite how angry it made her, the girl was becoming enraged and the only way to appease her now was to give in.

“No, you do not.”

Anne stood within an arm’s length of her mother and examined her with narrowed eyes.

“I do not know that I believe you.” She stepped forward again, closing the gap between her and Lady Catherine.

Staring deep into her mother’s eyes, she lowered her voice and said, “Do not make me do something you will regret.” She turned and began walking toward the door.

“I believe I will take my phaeton and ponies out. I will be gone at least an hour.”

She paused with her hand on the door latch.

Looking back at her mother, she added, “I expect you to host a card party two nights hence. Mr. Bartholomew Radcliff is home from his tour of the kingdom, as I understand it. He is to be invited, along with his parents. You will see to it.” Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door and was gone.

Lady Catherine waited stiffly in her seat for a few minutes.

When she saw her daughter’s carriage roll down the drive with Anne behind the reins, she allowed herself to exhale, falling back into the chair.

I do not care what she says, she thought.

As a matter of fact, I do not care what my nephew says, either.

I am going to see the pair of them wed and her out of my house if it is the last thing I do.

Further contemplation did nothing to ease her anger. She gritted her teeth. “She thinks she can control me, does she? We shall see about that.” She thought a few minutes longer, then rang for the butler.

“You called, madam?”

“I did. I want two footmen to attend me at once.”

Mr. Winters bowed. “As you wish.”

A quarter hour later, the pair of young men stood before her.

“My daughter has a large tufted wingback chair in her rooms. It is green and has a matching footstool. I want both of those items removed immediately and taken to the attics. You will replace them with the wooden chair and footstool in the corner of the library. I want the task completed in the next half-hour. If she demands them changed back, you will tell her to come to be about it. Do you understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” The footmen replied in unison and, when she dismissed them, hurried off to do as they were told.

Lady Catherine watched them leave and then looked at her butler, who had stood by as she spoke to the others.

“I want word sent to the coachman. Miss de Bourgh is out in her phaeton at the moment. However, when she next asks for it, she is to be told that it is unavailable. He can make up whatever excuse he chooses.” She made a motion with her hand.

“He can tell her it needs maintenance or something.” She paused.

“Tell him that she is to be denied the use of any of the equipages on the estate, as well as the horses, for the next month.”

“As you wish, madam.” The butler bowed.

“Also, send the cook up here. I would have a word with her.”

Mr. Winters inclined his head and turned to leave, walking to the door with his usual quiet dignity and exiting the room to do as his mistress bid.

Lady Catherine watched him go. “Threaten me, will she? I think not. I look forward to witnessing her outrage over the next few days. We shall see just who is the mistress of this estate.” She chuckled darkly.

“Should I order liver and onions every day for the next week, replace her tea with coffee, or both?” She laughed aloud at the thought of vexing her daughter.

Then, she grew quiet as she pulled the missive out of her reticule and read it again.

She pondered the options she had for forcing Darcy to marry Anne.

After a time, she stood and replaced the letter.

She called for Mr. Winters and gave him further instructions, then headed to her study to await her visitor.