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Something was in the wind. She could practically smell it. Her composer last night had been very light, barely enough to make her drowsy. And the one they had given her this morning was even lighter.

How she hated this room! Here she had been brought as a new bride by Lewis De Bourgh.

Here she had gritted her teeth and endured his despicable attentions.

Her dark eyes grew hard. The fool had actually loved her, had thought that she loved him.

When she finally produced a sickly child, he had been fatuously delighted.

When she had banished him from her bed, he had been hurt and baffled.

How obliging of him to die on his own without any assistance from her.

For she had been well prepared by then to help him along.

She shook her head. She had to focus on the present.

Breakfast this morning had been at an unseemly hour, and Marks (the traitor!) had arrived with one of the giantesses to help her dress and had insisted that she dress with great care.

What was her brother up to? Why could she not have her composer?

Why could she not have just a splash of brandy in this wretched coffee? Why, why, why?

∞∞∞

The morning sun found Elizabeth and Darcy asleep in each other’s arms as usual.

The massive, ornate bed was familiar to Darcy, since this room was customarily his during visits to Rosings.

It was not familiar to his wife, who could not escape the impression that the enormous, carved canopy would somehow fall on them both.

Before they retired, he had shown her the desk and chair overlooking the front avenue as the place where he had labored all night on his letter to her after the refusal at Hunsford Parsonage.

And he had laughingly allowed himself to be enticed into bed with Elizabeth’s idea that they could somehow bring that story full circle by supplying it with a happy ending.

In the morning, both awakened at sunrise with the sense that something dreadful and momentous was about to happen.

They managed quite well in the single dressing room without Larkin and Jenny, who had been left at home, and were among the first to assemble downstairs.

A large breakfast had been set out on the massive sideboards in the main dining salon, and many people, mostly gentlemen, began to arrive to fill their plates and find seats at the table.

Eventually, Mr. and Mrs. Collins were shown in, having walked over from the parsonage. He carried a leather satchel, and they came and seated themselves beside the Darcys. “I have brought along the parish register and Dr. Oliver’s journal in case they are needed,” said Collins.

Finally, the Earl came in with Fitzwilliam and Anne. He greeted several people and came to sit near the Darcys. “All is ready, but this will be a terrible day,” he observed with a shake of his head.

At eleven, when most had finished their breakfasts, the Earl stood. “I wish first of all to thank you all for coming. It is time to leave. Carriages await us on the side of the house, and we will meet again in the upstairs room of the Crown.”

Hunsford, The Crown - Monday, August 17, 18__

The group filed out and took their places in several waiting carriages, which left one by one and approached Hunsford via several different lanes and roads that led in that direction.

Elizabeth and Darcy rode with Anne and Lord Matlock.

When they arrived at the Crown, they entered the coffee room together and were shown upstairs.

The room set aside was large, high-ceilinged, and brightly lit by windows.

Three chairs were arranged behind a large table at the front, twenty-four chairs in three rows of eight along one side, and a single chair on the other side, facing them.

A chair and small table were also placed near the front.

A jumble of chairs occupied the back of the room, facing the front table.

Darcy saw two men talking at the front of the room, one of whom was Mr. Moreland, his uncle’s solicitor.

Mr. Moreland approached Lord Matlock’s party, greeted the earl, and asked the group to be seated in the chairs at the back.

Darcy looked at his watch and saw that it was ten minutes of noon, the hour set for the inquest to convene.

The jury entered, were sworn in by the other man, apparently a clerk, and sorted themselves out into their twenty-four seats.

Two physicians, one from London and one apparently local, convened and handed documents to Mr. Moreland.

The three commissioners, who were barristers, entered in their turn and took their seats.

The room grew still, one of the commissioners consulted his watch, and suddenly a piercing, querulous voice penetrated from the stairway.

“What is this place? Where is my brother? Where are my nephews? I demand to be allowed to return home immediately!” Lady Catherine de Bourgh entered, escorted by two of the tallest women Darcy had ever seen.

They made him think of Amazons. They were neatly gowned in dark, serviceable wool with identical round bonnets, and each had Lady Catherine firmly by an elbow.

Parker followed behind. When Lady Catherine had been assisted to her seat, the Amazons stood behind her and Parker came over and sat down.

Lady Catherine looked directly at Elizabeth and hissed “You!”

Darcy clasped Elizabeth’s hand tightly and looked down at his cousin Anne, who was seated between him and Fitzwilliam.

Her mother had taken no notice of her at all.

Anne was pale but composed. Darcy touched her hand briefly, noticed that she was trembling, and took her hand as well.

Fitzwilliam looked over and did the same with her other hand.

The clerk read out the document that had created the commission.

The first witness to be called was the butler Timmons, followed by Mrs. Toll the housekeeper, the first footman, and the coachman.

In response to questions from the commissioners, they related stories of Lady Catherine’s increasingly irrational behavior, her bouts of screaming and destruction of furnishings, her consumption of strong drink, and her abuse of the lower servants, especially the housemaids.

As the footman, last to testify, returned to his seat, Lady Catherine shouted, “Unfaithful servants! You are all guilty of petty treason, and I will see you hanged! ”

Anne was the next witness to be called. Darcy could perceive cold hatred in the face of Lady Catherine, who also cried “Worthless!” as Anne took her place.

Anne declined a chair, took the oath in a clear, well-modulated voice, and in response to a request from the commissioners related her story.

She left nothing out including the events of the past week, her mother’s recent tendency to violence and strong drink, and her own virtual imprisonment at Rosings since her adolescent years.

She concluded her testimony by expressing her fears for the servants as well as her fears for her own life and well-being.

It was apparent to Darcy that Lady Catherine did not intend to allow Anne’s testimony to proceed in an orderly fashion.

Her mother interrupted her numerous times with cries of “Worthless!” and “I shall deal with you later.” Anne proceeded with admirable calm, and each time her mother’s interruptions interfered, she sat quietly with her hands folded in her lap while the commissioners admonished her mother into a temporary silence.

When Anne had finished, the commissioners thanked her, and she returned to her seat as her mother hissed, “You will burn in hell for betraying your mother.” Anne appeared calm, but as she took Darcy’s offered hand, he noted that it was ice cold and that she was quietly shivering.

Mr. Collins was next to be called. While Darcy attended carefully to the testimony, he did not learn anything new.

Lady Catherine remained silent, and Darcy was favorably impressed by the clergyman’s simple eloquence.

It was apparent that Collins was profoundly affected by the story of Doctor Oliver and his family, and those present at the hearing were equally affected by his retelling.

As he concluded his narrative, Collins handed over Dr. Oliver’s journal to be placed in evidence.

Timmons, Mrs. Toll, and the coachmen all nodded, as they had been at Rosings long enough to recall the incidents.

Seeing this, a commissioner asked them to stand, and each corroborated Mr. Collins’ narrative.

The two physicians stood, gave their reports to the clerk, and one spoke for both.

“We have examined the patient, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, both together and separately. Her sense of right and wrong is but poorly developed. She is incapable of viewing other persons as human beings like herself. She speaks unguardedly of eliminating people who stand in her way. She has threatened to kill or harm her own daughter. Although she has not yet fallen completely into drunkenness, she appears to be in serious danger of doing so if left alone. We find that, while she is in robust health, she is non compos mentis , not of sound mind, a lunatic.”

“ This is not to be borne!” With these words, Lady Catherine de Bourgh leaped suddenly from her chair, overturning it and barely eluding the two nurses charged with her care.

Rather than attacking the two physicians who had just insulted her, she turned to the front row where her two nephews were seated with Elizabeth and Anne.