Page 26 of The Shades of Pemberley
Given the lady’s annoyance and opposition, Elizabeth thought she might refrain from what she considered a farce, but as they moved through the house, she trailed along behind, a noxious shadow dogging their steps, a spiteful blemish on their harmony, and if she said nothing, her presence still cast a pall on the company.
As much as she was able, Elizabeth ignored the lady and enjoyed the tour, and for a time, she pushed Lady Catherine to the back of her mind.
The décor was tasteful, showing little ostentation and everything of the fineness one might expect from a house of Pemberley’s quality.
Georgiana led them, her eagerness to show her favorite parts of the house unmistakable in every word she said, and Mrs. Reynolds shared what she knew of its history, which was not insubstantial.
“Oh, I cannot think I need to change much at all,” said Elizabeth when Georgiana made some comment on the subject.
“Is it not the custom of young wives to stamp their authority on their husband’s home by redecorating a few rooms?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam’s innocent comment was anything but, and provoked a laugh from Elizabeth. She shook her finger at him and said: “You, colonel, are a tease and no mistake. As for the house, why change what is already of exquisite quality?”
“Wait until you see the mistress’s quarters before you make any such decisions, Elizabeth,” said Georgiana. “My mother passed away almost fifteen years ago, and the room remains the same as it was. It is a handsome room, but the fashions are not current.”
“Do you suggest your mother had no taste?” demanded Lady Catherine, the first time she had spoken in Elizabeth’s hearing that morning.
“Not at all, Aunt,” said Georgiana, a credible show of courage that the lady did not appreciate. “If you recall, I said it was a handsome room but a little dated. Whether Elizabeth wishes to make any changes, I cannot say, but I did not insult my mother.”
Lady Catherine might have responded, but Colonel Fitzwilliam was near enough to silence her.
The mistress’s suite was as Georgiana suggested, and while Elizabeth thought it was yet an exceptional suite of rooms, she thought there were a few changes she might prefer to make. Then William sidled up next to her.
“We may make whatever changes you like, my dear, but they are not pressing, for I do not suppose you will make much use of this room.”
Elizabeth turned to him, noting his mischievous grin, and could not help but respond. “Oh, to be certain, for we shall be at Netherfield, then in London for the season.”
“You well know I speak of no such thing,” growled he.
With a grin, Elizabeth touched his face with affection. “It is fortunate that I am no more interested in adhering to custom than you are, beloved future husband. Shall we turn these chambers into something else?”
“Perhaps a nursery when our children are small,” agreed William. “Then they will be close to hand.”
“I am certain Lady Catherine would burn us at the stake for heresy.”
William smirked. “To own the truth, I am shocked her husband got Lady Catherine with child and did not die of frostbite.”
“As you do not know the circumstances of his demise, I am uncertain it is an inaccurate assessment.”
They laughed together, drawing another glare from Lady Catherine, but nothing they said would compare to her ire if she knew the gist of their irreverent banter.
Soon they departed from the family wing and returned below stairs to the sitting-room for refreshments, Elizabeth chatting with Georgiana and Kitty about the house and their anticipation for the future.
It was not until they were situated with cups of tea and cakes that the thunder crashed and the storm broke with the ferocity of a tempest.
“Do you approve of your future home, my love?” asked William the moment they were seated.
“Unless you suppose I am Queen Charlotte’s daughter,” jested Elizabeth, “I cannot imagine you suspect me of disapproval. Pemberley is everything lovely, William. It is still a shock that you have inherited such a grand estate, but I cannot imagine anyone rejecting such an excellent place.”
Lady Catherine sniffed her disdain. “Pemberley is a grand estate, but it could be so much better.
The gardens are insufficient for a house of its size, but my brother never saw the need to expand them.
Now, if you visited Rosings Park, you would see grounds created for the delight of all who see them.
“As for the house, the décor could be much finer. My sister possessed simple tastes, and though she matched her husband in that respect, it could be so much better.”
“That is interesting, Aunt,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, shaking his head in disdain, “for did you not take Georgiana to task not thirty minutes ago for the mere suggestion that Lady Anne’s taste was at all deficient?”
“Georgiana is nothing more than a slip of a girl,” sniffed Lady Catherine. “I am conversant with such things as décor and possess excellent taste. Rosings is the jewel of Kent, for all agree that I have done wonders with the place.”
The way Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, Elizabeth suspected that Lady Catherine preferred a gaudier style, one that would make Pemberley into a showpiece rather than the fine and loved home it was.
“Pemberley is beautiful as it is,” said Elizabeth. “My taste matches Lady Anne’s taste well. It needs few changes.”
“I must agree, Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Darcy. “As the place is to be your home, I suggest you consult your own feelings when considering changes and not allow anyone else to sway you.”
That appeared to push Lady Catherine over the edge into madness.
“Perhaps you should be silent when speaking about matters of which you know nothing!”
“I know enough to have managed my husband’s and then my son’s estate for many years.”
“A mere hovel,” said Lady Catherine, her voice oozing disdain. “The concerns of Pemberley, Rosings Park, and others of superior quality are so far beyond your insignificant home as to be laughable.”
The lady turned to William. “There, do you see? This girl will ruin you in society—you will never hold your head up with pride, and it will affect the rest of the family. It is time to end this nonsense and send her on her way.”
“I shall do no such thing,” growled William. “One more word and I will see you from Pemberley forever!”
“This is not to be born!” exclaimed Lady Catherine. “My daughter will make you an appropriate wife, not some hussy from the country. You must see sense.”
“Lady Catherine!” barked Colonel Fitzwilliam. “You have now gone beyond all decency. I join Darcy in demanding you depart at once!”
How the argument might have proceeded, Elizabeth could not say, for in that moment an interruption arrived in the person of a man who stepped in through the door.
He was tall and erect, his bearing aristocratic, perhaps fifty to sixty years of age.
The man bore a striking resemblance to Colonel Fitzwilliam, though his short hair was speckled with gray, with more at the temples.
For all Elizabeth suspected he was a genial man, his face as he regarded Lady Catherine was anything but amiable, for it was apparent at once that he was not amused.
“Catherine!” barked he. “What are you doing?”
“Jacob!” exclaimed the lady, showing consternation for the first time. “It is well that you have come, for you can talk some sense into Darcy!”
The man was not taken in by her insistence. “Of all the ridiculous things you have done, this is beyond the pale, Catherine! What possessed you to push your cradle arrangement myth on the new master of the estate?”
Lady Catherine drew herself up to her full height, undaunted by this man’s assault. “It is no delusion, for my sister and I agreed upon it.”
“It may have missed your attention, Catherine,” snarled the man, “but the man you and your sister planned to marry Anne is dead !
The new master does not even possess a connection to you.
To suggest he forswear his engagement to marry your daughter is silliness I did not think even you would contemplate.
“Now,” snapped the man, silencing Lady Catherine before she could say another word, “it is time for you to depart. Return to Rosings at once and do not raise this subject again.”
“I shall leave,” hissed Lady Catherine, “but do not suppose this is the end of the matter. My daughter was meant to be the mistress of Pemberley, and so she shall be. I shall know how to act!”
With that, the lady stalked from the room, leaving them all in shock. What the lady could mean by her last statement, Elizabeth could not say, but she had gained a healthy respect for Lady Catherine’s ability to cause havoc, and this in only a single day. Lady Catherine would bear careful watching.