Page 76 of The Riches of a Life Well-Lived

Thursday, December 19, 1811—30 Days after Tuesday

A large black carriage bowled around the driveway and pulled to a stop outside Longbourn.

“Someone has just arrived!” Kitty called as she stood by the window.

Mr. Bennet, who had been spending more and more time with his family, looked over at her from where he was playing checkers with Lydia.

“Who has arrived?” he asked.

Kitty shrugged. “Someone who has a barouche and four horses.”

“A barouche?” Mrs. Bennet asked from where she was flipping through a fashion magazine in preparation for their trip to London. “Are you certain? I cannot imagine who would have come all this way.”

“Were there any markings on it?” Darcy asked from where he sat by Elizabeth.

Kitty nodded. “But I did not recognise them.”

“Perhaps they are travellers who have lost their way,” Mrs. Bennet said. She set the magazine to one side. “I shall have to ask Hill to―”

“No! I shall not wait to be announced,” a strident voice proclaimed from just outside the sitting-room door.

Hill opened the door, puffing slightly. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh, ma’am.”

An older woman entered, her mouth puckered in distaste, the lines around it proclaiming that she regularly assumed that expression. The group stood.

Darcy stepped forward. “Aunt Catherine,” he said and bowed. “May I introduce the Bennets?” He gestured to Mr. Bennet.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh glared at him, shaking in rage. “No, you may not! I have no desire for an introduction to these—these interlopers. Mr. Collins sent me a report of a most alarming nature and I set out at once to make my sentiments known.”

Darcy sighed. “Then let us take a turn about the garden and―”

Her glare strengthened. “No, Nephew, I will not have you deceiving these people any longer.” She eyed the group. “Which of you is Miss Elizabeth Bennet?”

Elizabeth stepped forward to stand at Darcy’s elbow. “I am, your ladyship.”

“I demand you universally contradict this falsehood. I will not have it! You may have drawn my nephew in with your arts and allurements, but he is engaged to my daughter.”

Darcy stepped in front of his beloved. “I am not now, nor have I ever been, engaged to Cousin Anne. We decided long ago that we would not suit.”

Elizabeth shifted to stand side by side with him, meeting the lioness’s gaze.

Lady Catherine spluttered.

“Perhaps you would like some refreshment, Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth suggested, eyeing the woman’s nearly apoplectic expression.

Darcy softened. “I apologise, Aunt; I did not consider your well-being when I refrained from informing you of my intentions. I had hoped that you would understand by means of the lack of my attentions to Anne, but I ought to have made myself clear. It was cruel of me to avoid the conversation simply because it would be a delicate one.”

With some difficulty, Lady Catherine got hold of herself. “Even if you do not marry my daughter, you cannot marry this woman,” she said, disgust dripping from her tone.

Mr. Bennet stepped forward. “Excuse me, Madam, I will thank you not to insult my daughter in her own home.”

“And I will thank you not to insult my betrothed,” Darcy added in icy tones. “Miss Elizabeth’s character is irreproachable, and I am the one who is blessed to have obtained her hand.”

Lady Catherine’s cane creaked under the strain of her grip. “You will not marry her. Are the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted by a country nobody whose only connections are in trade or to my rector? I do not think so!” she said, spittle flying from her wrinkled mouth. “You know what is due your name, Nephew!”

Darcy smiled. “I do. I owe it to my family name to marry someone who will be a credit to the Darcy name and who will add to the estate. Miss Elizabeth will take such excellent care of our tenants that I do not doubt it will become a more profitable estate. More than that, she will be an excellent wife and the resulting domestic felicity will increase my ability to manage the estate. Finally, she is honourable, kind, and intelligent. Her politeness does not lack soul, unlike some people’s manners.” He put a hand on Elizabeth’s shoulder. “She will be a true credit to the Darcy name.”

Lady Catherine gaped at him as though he had just proclaimed his intention to marry a trout.

Suddenly the door burst open, and a gasping Mr. Collins appeared. He rushed to Lady Catherine, standing just behind her like a faithful hound.

“Even my rector knows that honour, decorum, and prudence forbid such a pairing,” Lady Catherine said.

Mr. Collins took a wheezing breath and then nodded vigorously. “It is as I said, Mr. Darcy: your aunt will never approve of such a match. Besides, you cannot legally be engaged to more than one person.”

Darcy nearly gnashed his teeth.

Mrs. Bennet put a hand over her mouth.

“I am not engaged to more than one person, Mr. Collins, as I have already told you,” Darcy said with forced evenness.

Lady Catherine drew herself up. “Nephew, if you take this step, I will certainly make it impossible for you to re-enter society. You will be censured, slighted, and despised by everyone connected to you.”

“I do not think so,” Darcy said. “You may be able to convince some people to shun us, but society will eventually move on to the next scandal. In addition, the Darcy name carries more weight than the de Bourgh name. I do not believe it will be a problem.”

“Even if everyone in the world shuns us, I would marry Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth added, putting a hand over his and squeezing it. “His wife will have such extraordinary sources of happiness necessarily attached to her situation that she could, upon the whole, have no cause to repine, regardless of society’s response.”

Lady Catherine took a step towards her. “You—you harpy! You have upset a marriage planned since his birth. You have ruined the cherished hopes of my only daughter, and―”

“I would never have married Anne,” Darcy declared. “Her illness would keep her from the duties of a married woman. She could not have helped with the estate at all. Nor would I have been able to run Rosings and Pemberley.” His eyes narrowed. “Was that your intention?”

Lady Catherine’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, and then rage once more suffused her features.

“Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine’s motives are always of the purest nature,” Mr. Collins said fiercely. “Be careful that you do not impute something base to her. You do not wish to alienate your dearest relation.”

“Was it?” Darcy asked, holding his aunt’s gaze. “Were you hoping to gain control of Pemberley? Or just to take Rosings all for yourself? You have always been adamant that Anne is too frail to be bothered with the details of Rosings’s management.”

Lady Catherine’s glare was now so strong he was surprised that sparks were not showering from her eyes, and she held herself straighter than a ramrod. “I do not have to explain anything to you, Nephew. There is no need for such ridiculous accusations.”

“Then do not interfere in my business.”

Mr. Collins put out a conciliatory hand. “Mr. Darcy, one’s family is above all called to help each other out, and one’s elders are our guides—there to give us wisdom in our hours of need. This is such a time for you. Be guided by your aunt’s wisdom.”

Darcy did not even spare the man a look. “I shall be speaking to Uncle Stephen about this. As Anne’s trustee, he shall be quite interested. We have always wondered if Anne was truly as frail as you portray her.”

Lady Catherine’s eyes widened. “I will not have you maligning my daughter or myself. I knew nothing good would come of you staying at a tradesman’s house.”

“Mr. Bingley is one of my dearest friends, and I will thank you to keep him out of this. More than that, Lady Catherine, what does one’s social station have to do with one’s worth?”

She huffed. “Everyone knows that one’s birth and upbringing determine one’s worthiness.”

He eyed her, thinking of what poor manners she had. How had he thought the Bennets were even remotely ill-mannered compared to his aunt? They at least had reasons for behaving as they did. His conscience pricked him; Aunt Catherine had reasons for her rudeness as well. Still, he did not have to endure it and he would not tolerate her treating the people he cared about so poorly.

“Then everyone is wrong,” he said simply. “I have learned that kindness is universal, and kindness is, after all, the soul of politeness. I have witnessed rudeness among the ton and among those who are outside it. You cannot discern a person’s character from his or her status.”

Lady Catherine stared at him. “Have you taken leave of your senses, Nephew? Have you rejected everything you have been taught?” She glanced around at the assembled group. “I knew these people were bad influences, but this is beyond the pale.”

“Lady Catherine, I will thank you not to insult these people,” Darcy said crisply. “They are kind and worthy, and I have come to care greatly for each and every one of them. You will not insult them while I am here.”

“I will tolerate no more of your horrible behaviour. We will leave here immediately,” Lady Catherine said, half turning towards the door.

“No, I will not.”

Lady Catherine whirled back around to face him. “Take care, Nephew; I can make your life very difficult indeed.”

Mr. Bennet moved to stand between Darcy and his aunt. “Madam, I will thank you to quit our home. You have insulted my family quite thoroughly and are threatening my future son.”

The handle of Lady Catherine’s cane creaked again. “I see I shall get no satisfaction from you, Nephew. You are lost to all familial claims of duty, and I shall do as I see fit if you continue this farce.” She whirled around and strode from the room.

“Mr. Darcy, Miss Elizabeth, I urge you to reconsider,” Mr. Collins said, leaning around Mr. Bennet. “You do not wish an enemy such as Lady Catherine, and, truly, she only wants what is best.”

“Best for whom?” Elizabeth said pointedly.

Mr. Collins hesitated. “Mr. Darcy, do not let my cousin’s stubbornness keep you from behaving as you ought.”

“Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet said in a quavering voice. “I do not believe we need someone who treats our son and daughter in such a manner staying in our home.”

Mr. Collins drew himself up. “Madam, please recall that you do not wish to make things uncomfortable for me. One day this will be my home―”

“I believe you are right, my dear,” Mr. Bennet said, his expression fierce. “If you hurry, Mr. Collins, you may be able to ride back to Hunsford with Lady Catherine. If not, I believe there is room at the inn in Meryton. Either way, you are no longer welcome here.”

“But, sir―”

Mr. Bennet glared at the man. “You have no power here until my demise, and I intend to be here for my family for some time. Leave.”

The man spluttered and searched the room for a sympathetic expression but did not find one.

Lydia glanced at Darcy for a moment, studying him, then crossed her arms and raised her chin. “No one wants you here any more than they wished your precious Lady Catherine to stay, Mr. Collins.”

“Oh, and Mr. Collins,” Mr. Bennet continued, “at the rate you are going, you will be a poor man indeed, even after my death. Perhaps you ought to reconsider your ideals of whom to pattern your life after. I have been told that a good man recognises his mistakes, takes responsibility, and works to rectify them. There is still time for you to become a good man.”

Looking utterly confused and demoralised, Mr. Collins fled from the room.

“Thank you, Papa,” Elizabeth said.

Darcy nodded at the man, clasping Elizabeth’s hand.

“It is only what I ought to have been doing long ago,” Mr. Bennet said.

Mrs. Bennet held out a shaking hand to her husband, and he took it. She looked at Mr. Bingley and Darcy. “You are not leaving, are you?”

“Never,” Bingley said fervently.

Darcy shook his head. “No, Mother Bennet, you will be stuck with us for the rest of your life.” He smiled down at Elizabeth. “I would rather give up all the wealth I possess than lose the riches of your daughter’s love.”