Page 37 of Return to Pemberley

Elizabeth regarded her adversary with such measured calm that whether she felt chastened or amused remained entirely mysterious.

"How distressing for you to suffer such uncertainty.

Perhaps when you have recovered from your journey's fatigues, you will permit me to show you the correspondence upon which our decision rested.

I am confident you will discover nothing to challenge your exacting standards. "

Lady Catherine made no reply but drew herself to full, formidable height. "I will speak with Mr. Darcy," she declared, and with a final, withering glance, swept from the room in a vortex of outraged silk.

Silence reigned for several moments. Then Georgiana released a breath she seemed to have held since their visitor's entrance.

"Oh, Elizabeth," she said, voice trembling with admiration, "how do you manage such composure? I was certain she meant to strike you down where you stood."

Elizabeth smiled as tension dissolved at last. "The secret, my dear Georgiana, lies in recognizing that Lady Catherine never attacks without first announcing her intention with considerable fanfare. One need only listen for the trumpet call and keep one's ammunition dry."

Georgiana looked at her with mingled relief and wonder. "You were magnificent. I should never have managed even half so well."

Elizabeth resumed her seat and took up the embroidery with studied nonchalance.

"You may discover, with practice, that courage lies closer to hand than you suppose.

In the meantime, I suggest we fortify ourselves with tea.

Lady Catherine will surely require several hours to marshal her forces before the next assault. "

And as the late afternoon sun crept across the polished floors, Elizabeth found herself almost anticipating the battle to come.

I f Lady Catherine had intended her abrupt withdrawal to chill the atmosphere of Pemberley, she must have been sorely disappointed.

The footman, dispatched to ensure her comfort, had scarcely returned to the nether reaches of the house when she was again upon the threshold—this time with the explosive energy of one who finds even the vestibule inadequate for expressing so urgent a grievance.

She re-entered the drawing room without ceremony, her entrance announced only by the whip and snap of her skirts against carpet and the staccato thump of her walking stick.

The candelabra over the mantel, recently lit against dusk's onset, cast an elongated shadow of her figure across the room, so that for one brief moment it seemed Lady Catherine had acquired twice her natural presence.

She did not immediately address Elizabeth, but instead performed a series of circuits about the room, her cane finding every resonance in the polished floor. The performance had about it the drama of a general reviewing troops before decisive engagement, and it was not lost on her audience.

When at last she stopped—directly before the hearth, the clock above ticking with insistence bordering on rude commentary—Lady Catherine delivered herself of a speech that had, by evidence of its polish, been composed and refined throughout her march.

"I have considered this matter from every conceivable angle," she announced, "and I have arrived at one inescapable conclusion: this family has become the object of universal ridicule.

We are discussed at every table from Rosings to Lambton—even the rector's wife, whose own claims to gentility would not bear the smallest examination, has been emboldened to offer her observations upon our affairs. I am mortified beyond all expression."

She drew herself up and, with a flick of her wrist, seemed almost to challenge the clock itself to contradict her indignation.

Elizabeth, who had taken a seat near the window, did not rise but met Lady Catherine's gaze with equanimity that might, in the circumstances, have appeared provocative.

"I regret you should feel thus, Lady Catherine. My intention was never to expose the family to censure, but to resolve a grievance that was, in the estimation of every impartial observer, a stain upon the estate's honour. Mr. Blackwood's claim was—"

"Mr. Blackwood's claim!" Lady Catherine's voice ascended a full register.

"What signifies the complaint of a tenant farmer against the dignity of such a house as this?

You cannot conceive, Mrs. Darcy, the damage wrought by your misguided charity.

You have displayed weakness where strength was required, and—if you will permit the observation—encouraged every malcontent in the district to suppose themselves entitled to equal consideration at our table. "

Georgiana started slightly at this vehemence, but Elizabeth merely smoothed her skirt and replied with perfect composure, "I confess I had not thought that correcting an injustice could be mistaken for weakness, Lady Catherine.

Indeed, I should have supposed that true distinction lies in acting with fairness precisely when it proves inconvenient. "

At this, Lady Catherine wheeled about, her cane barely missing the brass fender.

"I perceive you have cultivated the art of contradiction, Mrs. Darcy—a talent I must attribute to your particular upbringing.

There are those who remarked, even before this incident, that Pemberley had begun to admit ideas quite foreign to its ancient traditions.

I am compelled to observe that you have exceeded their most pessimistic expectations. "

Elizabeth, far from appearing ruffled, allowed herself the smallest upward curve of lips—a gesture noted by both adversary and ally.

"How disappointing I must be to such keen observers, Lady Catherine. Yet I cannot believe that acting upon principle contradicts Pemberley's traditions. Rather, I am persuaded it forms the very foundation upon which this house has always stood."

The conversation might have concluded there, had not the clock chosen that moment to emit a particularly assertive tick, as though summoned to arbitrate between them. Lady Catherine, affronted by the interruption, glared at the offending timepiece before returning her attention to Elizabeth.

"You are exceeding clever, Mrs. Darcy, but you are also exceeding young.

Youth invariably supposes that virtue alone will triumph.

I have witnessed many a promising gentleman meet ruin by placing principle above prudence.

Do not deceive yourself: the world rewards not goodness, but appearances.

And you, by your conduct, have rendered this family vulnerable to every species of attack. "

Elizabeth regarded her with an expression of grave amusement. "If the world proves unjust, Lady Catherine, surely those with means to do so bear some obligation to demonstrate a superior example?"

Lady Catherine gave a short, bitter laugh.

"Philosophy becomes you remarkably, Mrs. Darcy.

Yet I feel bound to remind you that philosophers are seldom mistresses of great houses—or when they are, the houses do not long remain great.

Appearances are the coin of our realm, and you have spent them with shocking profligacy. "

Throughout this exchange, Georgiana had remained motionless, hands clasped tightly in her lap.

Yet as Elizabeth continued deflecting Lady Catherine's charges with unruffled logic, a subtle transformation occurred: Georgiana's posture, which had begun hunched and uncertain, gradually lengthened; her spine straightened, her chin rose by degrees.

She observed her sister-in-law with mingled awe and dawning solidarity.

Elizabeth, noting this shift, was encouraged to continue.

"I do not underestimate the importance of appearances, Lady Catherine.

But I believe a house's true strength lies not in an unblemished facade, but in the character of its inhabitants.

In time, I trust the county will judge Pemberley by its actions, not by idle speculation. "

Lady Catherine, seemingly determined that no point should pass unchallenged, replied, "You display a lamentable na?veté, Mrs. Darcy.

Society is governed entirely by whispers.

Once a house bears scandal's mark—however slight, however justified—it is never wholly cleansed.

I fear you have set the Darcy name upon a most perilous course, and I shudder to contemplate what further innovations you may yet devise. "

At this, Elizabeth did rise—not with stiffness of offense, but with the grace of one accustomed to commanding her own domain. She advanced toward Lady Catherine, her hands remarkably steady before her.

"I offer no innovations, Lady Catherine, save this: that Pemberley shall act with honour, regardless of cost. I expect no universal approbation, but I do expect judgment based upon results.

Should you wish to offer counsel in future, I hope you will present it as you have today—directly and with conviction.

But I will not be made to feel shame for doing what conscience demands. "

Silence followed, broken only by the clock's measured ticking and, from the kitchen quarters, the distant clatter of supper preparations.

Lady Catherine, perhaps for the first time in memory, appeared momentarily at a loss.

Her eyes darted from Elizabeth to Georgiana and back, as though seeking terrain on which to rally her forces.

When she spoke again, her voice carried less shrillness but no diminished resolve. "You bear a most unfortunate resemblance to your mother-in-law, Mrs. Darcy. She too harbored notions of justice, and the county never pardoned her for it."

Elizabeth inclined her head with dignity. "To be compared with Lady Anne is honour indeed. I aspire only to prove worthy of the house she cherished."