Page 23 of The Shades of Pemberley
“Nor shall you any night, I should say,” said Darcy. “My cousin, Georgiana Darcy, is wild with anticipation to make your acquaintance, and her cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam, has expressed similar excitement.”
“Then I dare say we shall be a merry party,” replied Elizabeth.
Remembering who else resided there at that moment sobered Darcy, and he knew he could not set off without warning them. “Shall we sit for a moment? There is something I should tell you.”
Though appearing mystified, the three ladies did not disagree.
“There is an unlooked-for addition to the party at Pemberley, and I dare say she will prove a most unwelcome presence. To own the truth, she has already made herself unwelcome sufficient to provoke me to consider commanding her to return to her home.”
“Oh?” asked his mother, showing no little curiosity. “It cannot be your cousin’s uncle, since you referred to a woman.”
“Not her uncle, but her aunt.” Darcy grimaced at the thought of the objectionable woman.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh is a woman larger than life, intent upon pushing her large facial feature into matters not her concern, and possesses enough vinegar and grit to make herself unwelcome the moment she opens her mouth. As she is not shy about sharing her opinion, her ability to offend is incalculable.”
“That is quite amusing, William. Tell me, did you invite this lady to stay at your estate?”
“No, I did not,” replied William. “The lady assumed her invitation and arrived last week. To own the truth, now that I consider it, I am surprised that she waited as long as she did.”
Darcy informed them of the lady’s stay, her behavior, her demands, and something of her criticisms and her laments about his engaged state.
Darcy’s mother looked on this all with amusement, and if Elizabeth appeared no less diverted, there was about her a hint of disquiet, though he knew she would not allow Lady Catherine to intimidate her.
“That is quite the tale, William,” said Mrs. Darcy when he had explained all. “As I recall, you have spoken of this lady before.”
“I did, but that was only through hearsay as I never made her acquaintance. Trust me, mother, the stories of Lady Catherine do not do her justice. Even Fitzwilliam has spoken at length of her ways, for the family tolerates her but little.”
“Do you suppose she will assault me the moment I pass over the threshold?” asked Elizabeth, uncertainty replaced by her resolve. “Should I carry a parasol with which to defend myself?”
Kitty giggled at Elizabeth’s quip, and Darcy allowed a grin. “Perhaps you can put that fencing lesson to good use, though I suspect you will need something a little sturdier. Lady Catherine carries a cane, an affectation, though much more solid than a parasol.”
“Perhaps we can find a sturdy branch on the road to Pemberley,” said Elizabeth.
His heart already lightened by her resilience, Darcy chuckled. “Perhaps we shall at that. There is no further reason for delay; Lady Catherine will remain no matter how long we dither, so I suggest we leave at once. Do you feel equal to making her acquaintance?”
“Without a doubt,” replied Elizabeth.
WHEN THEY ENTERED THE property, any consideration of Lady Catherine de Bourgh departed from Elizabeth’s mind in favor of the delights she saw before her.
What was a bitter termagant next to the glories of nature that Pemberley boasted in abundance?
The woods and fields they passed filled Elizabeth with a longing to sample something of what she saw before her—that she would one day know these woods with the intimacy of a lover, awed her, but she could not prevent the longing to begin at once from welling within her breast. If the scenes before her and the length of the road from the lodge at Pemberley’s boundary did not astonish her, the sight of the house in the distance completed the task.
“ That is Pemberley?” gasped Elizabeth when the carriage crested a rise and the house in the distance appeared before her eyes.
“It is,” said William, appearing gratified by her awe. “I will own that I had much the same reaction when I saw it for the first time.”
“I never thought I would be the mistress of such a place as this.”
“Yet I do not doubt your competence,” said William, drawing her attention from the edifice before her. “If I can manage the estate, I cannot think the house will give you any trouble.”
“Of course, it will not,” said Mrs. Darcy. “It is a house like any other, though larger and finer than even Netherfield.”
“I could never imagine living in such a place,” said Kitty, her voice strangled by her astonishment.
“If you wish,” said William to Kitty, “you are welcome to stay with us at any time. Then again, I suppose you will need to vie with your sisters if they are of a like mind.”
Kitty threw him a pleased look, but the carriage was now making its way down the other side of the small hill, and the house was growing larger in the distance.
The courtyard, when they entered it, was paved with large flagstones, the house built of the same stone Elizabeth suspected was common to the area.
The two great wings of the house rose on either side, blocking out the waning light of the sun that was already setting.
In the middle, there arose a grand staircase leading into the house, and thereon stood three people, all tall and erect, a man and two ladies.
Though knowing one of them was Lady Catherine, Elizabeth put such thoughts from her mind for the moment in favor of what was happening.
The carriage slowed as it approached the stairs and then turned until it drew up to the side, and the footmen alighted, opening the door with alacrity.
After Mr. Darcy stepped down, he turned and handed the three ladies from the coach, first Mrs. Darcy, then Elizabeth, and finally Kitty.
Then William took Elizabeth’s hand and put it in the crook of his arm, and turned to face those waiting.
“Lady Catherine, Fitzwilliam, Georgiana, please allow me to introduce our guests.”
With that, William performed the introductions, first introducing Elizabeth and her party as was proper, then reciprocating with his relations, though one was notable in that she was not his relation, and Darcy appreciated it more than he had ever thought possible.
Colonel Fitzwilliam greeted them, his manners as jovial as Elizabeth had expected from William’s letters.
Georgiana was shy yet eager, and as for Lady Catherine, she appeared larger than life, watching them with a distinct scowl etched on her brow.
For the moment, the lady said nothing, likely for the best, for Elizabeth suspected they would not wish to hear her pronouncements.
When the introductions were complete, they entered the house and went to the sitting-room where they could become better acquainted.
“It is a delight to make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam the moment the occasion presented itself. “I also offer my apologies for pulling your fiancé away from you only days before your wedding.”
“Do not consider it for a moment, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” replied Elizabeth, “for the situation could not be avoided. Please accept my condolences for the loss of your cousin.”
Elizabeth turned to Miss Darcy and offered the same sentiments, which the girl received with appreciation. Kitty, Elizabeth noted, had seated herself by Miss Darcy’s side, and if few words had passed between them, she thought they were both enthusiastic about gaining a friend.
“Tell me, Miss Bennet,” said Lady Catherine, interrupting the conversation, “I understand you are from Hertfordshire. In what part of Hertfordshire is your father’s estate?”
A glance at Lady Catherine informed Elizabeth that the lady did not appreciate Kitty’s position beside Georgiana.
If Elizabeth was to guess, she focused on her rather than Kitty because she was the greater concern, though why that would be, Elizabeth could not understand.
The best way to retract the lady’s claws was to be open and forthright, and Elizabeth did not hesitate to answer her.
“Longbourn is near Meryton, your ladyship.” When the lady glared at her, Elizabeth amended her explanation. “Meryton is a small town to the south and between Stevenage and Luton.”
Lady Catherine nodded. “Then a town of little importance.”
“I suppose it is, other than to those who live nearby,” said Elizabeth. In a bit of daring, she added: “There must be hundreds of such towns all over England, Lady Catherine. Some are smaller and less prestigious, but they all serve the same purpose.”
“It seems you have no trouble speaking decidedly for such a young woman,” said Lady Catherine, the oppressive air of displeasure hovering about her. “Do you not suppose you should be silent in the company of your betters?”
It was a test and nothing less—Elizabeth at once determined to show the lady that she would not be intimidated. “As I recall, you asked me a question, and I answered it. If I offer additional insights, that is the very essence of polite discourse, is it not?”
What the lady might have said in response was to remain a mystery, for Colonel Fitzwilliam interjected, and the discussion took another tack.
That did not deter Lady Catherine, for she seemed determined to learn what she could of Elizabeth and was not at all subtle in her interrogation.
Only Georgiana and Kitty escaped, for they whispered together, their initial awkwardness lost in favor of their delight for their new acquaintance.
For some time after, the conversation proceeded, Lady Catherine interrupted with intrusive questions, Elizabeth answered, then one of the party would direct it back to the topic they were discussing before or introduce another.
Lady Catherine proved indefatigable, her questions probing, though what she wished to learn remained a mystery.
While she concentrated on Elizabeth’s family, upbringing, the size of her father’s estate, and other such matters, she often interjected a question either more intrusive or unlike anything she had asked before.
In time, Elizabeth grew fatigued with her, even as she answered, knowing she had nothing to hide.
On a few occasions, Lady Catherine learned some piece of information she found most interesting, though Elizabeth could not understand what she inferred from Elizabeth’s answers.
“You say your father’s estate is entailed?” asked Lady Catherine after one of these exchanges. “As I recall, you mentioned you have no brother.”
“That is correct, Lady Catherine,” replied Elizabeth, injecting a cheerful note in her voice, which she found annoyed the lady.
“I have always wondered what it would be like to have a brother. My sisters shall soon experience it, but as I am to be his wife, William will not be my brother. I must wait until one of my sisters marries to know what it is like.”
While Georgiana and Kitty giggled together, Lady Catherine did nothing more than shoot them a quelling glare. That the girls did not notice or were engaged in ignoring her did not appear to pierce her understanding.
“Then, when your father passes on, you must all rely on Mr. Darcy for your support.”
“My father has not left us unprotected,” said Elizabeth, a little of her jolly demeanor giving way before the lady’s impertinent questions.
“And I expect my sisters will marry in time. Unless I miss my guess,” Elizabeth turned her laughing gaze on William, “I expect my eldest sister will not long bear her maiden name after I resign it.”
“Bingley is rather impulsive,” said William, humor in his tone.
“Do you have other relations?” demanded Lady Catherine.
This was dangerous ground, for Elizabeth suspected there was no more efficacious way of drawing her ladyship’s condemnation than to own to her uncles’ professions. If pressed, she would not hide it, but it was best to avoid it if possible.
“I have two uncles.”
It appeared Lady Catherine was too interested in the entail and assumed her uncles were also gentlemen, a relief and no mistake. “That is unfortunate. Though I have only one daughter, there is no entail on the estate, so Anne is my late husband’s heir.”
“That is, indeed, fortunate for her,” murmured Elizabeth.
“Tell me, Miss Elizabeth,” said Lady Catherine, “is your father’s heir known to you?”
“He is not,” replied Elizabeth. “My father and his father disagreed many years ago and severed all connection between them.”
“And his name?”
Though Elizabeth could not imagine why she was asking, she said: “His name is Collins.”
It was altogether strange, for Lady Catherine left her questioning and remained silent for some time thereafter.
Though Colonel Fitzwilliam and William both regarded her, wondering what she was about, the conversation flowed more smoothly thereafter until the call for dinner came from the housekeeper.
As there were only two gentlemen present, William insisted on escorting Elizabeth and his mother, while Colonel Fitzwilliam took on the duty of ushering his aunt to the dining-room; Georgiana and Kitty walked together, carrying on a conversation behind them that appeared to consist of whispers and an excess of mirth.
“Well?” asked William when they were seated and the servants brought in the soup. “Has Lady Catherine disappointed you?”
The setting was not so isolated as to suppose that Lady Catherine could not hear them if she attempted it, but at the moment Colonel Fitzwilliam was speaking to her in low tones. As such, Elizabeth thought she could venture a response without drawing her ladyship’s condemnation.
“If anything, you understated the reality.”
Mrs. Darcy’s eyes twinkled as she turned her attention to her soup, but William only shook his head. “She was far more aloof than she has been at any time since she arrived.”
“That is astonishing, William. I have never met one so intrusive as she, and yet you tell me she was detached? She must be a spectacle when she presents her natural behavior.”
“That she is.”
“For the moment, she appears satisfied, though I am not certain that is the correct word. When do you suppose she will shed this mantle of reticence and show her true self to us all?”
“I cannot say, Elizabeth. But I fear it nonetheless.”