Page 75

Elizabeth exchanged a startled glance with her husband. “They are here?” she repeated, unable to keep the surprise from her voice. “At Darcy House? Now?”

“In the carriage,” Lady Catherine confirmed, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to leave her daughter waiting outside while she conducted this difficult conversation. “I thought it best to speak with you first, to ensure there would be no misunderstanding about the arrangements.”

Elizabeth rose to her feet, a sense of horrified sympathy overwhelming her propriety. “Mr. Darcy, perhaps you should send a footman to bring Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson inside immediately. They must be quite cold, waiting in the carriage all this time.”

Darcy nodded, already moving toward the bell pull.

“Harrison,” he called, when the butler appeared moments later, “Lady Catherine’s daughter and her companion are waiting in a carriage outside.

Please have them shown in at once, and see that their luggage is brought up.

They will be staying with us for the Season. ”

“Very good, sir,” Harrison replied, his expression betraying not the slightest hint of surprise at this unexpected development. With a bow, he withdrew to carry out the instructions.

Lady Catherine watched this exchange with grim satisfaction. “I see you have retained Harrison,” she observed. “A sensible decision. He has been with the Darcy family since your father’s time, has he not? A properly trained servant is worth his weight in gold.”

“Indeed,” Darcy agreed, though Elizabeth could see the tension in the set of his shoulders. “Now, Aunt Catherine, perhaps you would care for some refreshment after all? Anne and Mrs. Jenkinson will likely be grateful for tea when they come in from the cold.”

“I shall not be staying,” Lady Catherine announced, to Elizabeth’s considerable surprise. “I must return to Rosings tonight. The journey is tedious enough without adding unnecessary delays.”

Before Elizabeth could formulate a suitable response to this extraordinary declaration, Harrison reappeared at the drawing room door.

“Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson,” he announced, stepping aside to allow the new arrivals to enter.

Anne de Bourgh entered the drawing room with the hesitant steps of someone perpetually uncertain of her welcome. Behind her came Mrs. Jenkinson, a thin, precise woman whose watchful eyes immediately began cataloguing every detail of the room, as if assessing its suitability for her charge.

“Miss de Bourgh, Mrs. Jenkinson, welcome to Darcy House,” Elizabeth said, stepping forward with a genuine smile.

Whatever her feelings about Lady Catherine, she could not help but feel sympathy for Anne, who looked utterly miserable and far too pale.

“You must be chilled to the bone after waiting in the carriage. Please, come sit by the fire.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Darcy,” Anne murmured, her voice so soft as to be nearly inaudible. “It is kind of you to receive us so... unexpectedly.”

“Nonsense,” Lady Catherine interjected before Elizabeth could respond. “There is nothing unexpected about family assisting family. Darcy knows his duty, even if he has not always performed it as expected.”

Mrs. Jenkinson moved immediately to Anne’s side, guiding her toward a chair near the fire with the practiced efficiency of someone who had spent years anticipating her charge’s every need.

“Miss de Bourgh must not sit too close to the flames,” she advised, positioning Anne at what she deemed a proper distance.

“The sudden change in temperature could be most detrimental to her health.”

“Of course,” Elizabeth agreed, signalling to a hovering footman to adjust the screen before the fire. “Harrison will have tea brought immediately. Would you prefer something stronger to ward off the chill, Miss de Bourgh? Perhaps a small glass of Madeira?”

Before Anne could answer, Mrs. Jenkinson shook her head decisively. “Miss de Bourgh never takes spirits. Her constitution is far too delicate. A weak tea with a little milk would be most suitable.”

Elizabeth noticed a flicker of something that might have been annoyance cross Anne’s features, but it was gone so quickly she could not be certain. “As you wish,” she said, giving the instructions to the footman, who departed with a respectful bow.

“Now, as to the arrangements,” Lady Catherine continued imperiously.

“Anne will require a quiet bedchamber, preferably south-facing for the morning light, but with curtains that block the sun effectively when necessary. Mrs. Jenkinson should be placed in the adjoining room, with a connecting door. Anne often requires assistance during the night.”

“We shall ensure Miss de Bourgh and Mrs. Jenkinson are comfortably situated,” Darcy assured his aunt, with a glance at Elizabeth that suggested he would leave these arrangements to her expertise as mistress of the house.

“Harrison will have already spoken to Mrs. Wilson about preparing suitable rooms.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Indeed. The blue suite on the second floor would be ideal, I believe. It has a southern exposure and adjoining rooms exactly as you describe, Lady Catherine. The chambers have been recently refurbished and are most comfortable.”

“That will be satisfactory, I suppose,” Lady Catherine acknowledged with a slight inclination of her head.

“As to the Season itself. I expect Anne to be presented alongside Georgiana at all appropriate events. She should attend enough engagements to be seen by suitable gentlemen, but not so many as to exhaust her strength. Mrs. Jenkinson will advise you on when Anne should withdraw from an event.”

Elizabeth took a careful breath, reminding herself that this was her home, and that she was now mistress of one of the greatest estates in England. Lady Catherine, for all her imperiousness, was a guest, and Elizabeth would treat her with appropriate courtesy, however difficult that might be.

“We shall be delighted to include Miss de Bourgh in all our plans,” she said evenly. “Though I should mention that we are already bringing out my sister Kitty alongside Georgiana. We shall be a party of three young ladies.”

Lady Catherine’s eyebrows rose in evident surprise and disapproval. “Your sister? I was not aware another Bennet girl was to inflict herself upon London society this Season.”

Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm at the deliberate insult, but maintained her composure. “Catherine and Georgiana have become great friends, and it seemed natural to include her in our plans.”

“Natural to you, perhaps,” Lady Catherine said dismissively. “Though I cannot imagine what purpose is served by presenting a girl with no fortune or connections to society. Surely you do not imagine she will find a husband?”

Elizabeth felt a surge of anger so powerful that for a moment she feared she might say something truly unforgivable.

The casual cruelty of Lady Catherine’s words, spoken as if Kitty were not a real person with feelings and hopes of her own, but merely an inconvenience to be dismissed, struck at the heart of Elizabeth’s protective instincts for her family.

“Kitty is a gentleman’s daughter with a sweet disposition and considerable charm,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level.

“A gentleman’s daughter,” Lady Catherine repeated with a sniff. “Yes, I recall your father’s estate, entailed away to Mr. Collins. You would do better to send the girl back to Hertfordshire before she develops expectations that cannot possibly be fulfilled.”

Elizabeth caught Darcy watching her with a mixture of concern and admiration, clearly aware of how difficult it was for her to hold her tongue in the face of such provocation.

She pressed her lips together, remembering her mother’s countless admonitions over the years about the importance of securing good marriages for all five Bennet girls.

Though Elizabeth had often found her mother’s single-minded focus exasperating, there had been genuine concern beneath Mrs. Bennet’s histrionics, a recognition of the precarious position in which they all stood.

Now, comfortable in her wealth and position as Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth would not allow anyone, not even Lady Catherine, to dismiss her sister’s prospects so cavalierly.

“My sister will remain with us for the Season as planned,” she said firmly. “Kitty’s happiness and opportunities are as important to me as Georgiana’s, and I have every confidence that she will be well received by those whose opinions matter.”

The subtle emphasis on the last phrase was not lost on Lady Catherine, whose lips thinned to an even more disapproving line. Before she could formulate a reply, however, the tea tray arrived, creating a momentary distraction as Elizabeth busied herself with serving.

“Two slices of lemon and one lump of sugar,” Lady Catherine said abruptly, and Elizabeth served her gracefully before turning to Anne.

“And do you take sugar in your tea, Anne? One lump or two?” she asked, deliberately addressing Anne directly rather than consulting Mrs. Jenkinson.

For a brief moment, something like surprise flickered in Anne’s eyes, as if she were unaccustomed to being consulted about her own preferences. “Two, please,” she murmured, ignoring the slight frown that appeared on Mrs. Jenkinson’s face. “And just a little milk.”

“Miss de Bourgh typically takes her tea very weak, with only the smallest amount of sugar,” Mrs. Jenkinson interjected. “Strong tea can overstimulate the nerves and lead to difficulties sleeping.”

Elizabeth paused, cup in hand, looking from Mrs. Jenkinson to Anne with a raised eyebrow. “And yet today she has requested two lumps. Perhaps the cold journey has left her in need of additional fortification?”

The faintest hint of a smile touched Anne’s lips before vanishing beneath her habitual expression of bland submission. “Just this once,” she murmured, accepting the cup from Elizabeth with a nod of thanks.