Page 47 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Darcy, once he had guided Lady Catherine and Anne to their seats, took his own place next to his female cousin and across from Lady Catherine.

The seating was not according to rank, with Jane settled between Richard and Lady Matlock.

Lady Matlock, naturally enough, wished to speak with her future daughter-in-law.

Elizabeth was situated next to Lady Catherine and across from Darcy.

He anticipated fireworks, and he was not disappointed.

As soon as the first course had been served, Lady Catherine pounced.

“Miss Elizabeth, pray tell me of your family? I understand that your uncle is master of your family’s estate, and that you recently lost your father? ”

“Yes, that is correct. The estate of Longbourn is entailed away from the female line, and thus my father’s half-brother, Josiah Bennet, is the new master of the estate.”

“There are but you and Miss Bennet, I presume?”

“No, Lady Catherine; I have three younger sisters as well.”

“Five daughters and no sons? How extraordinary! Your mother should have borne at least one son. ”

“My mother is inclined to agree with you, Madam, but our Uncle Josiah is very kind, and we are assured of his continued support and care.”

“Are any of your younger sisters out, Miss Elizabeth?”

“Yes, all.”

“All? What, all five out at once? Very odd! And you only the second. The younger ones out before the elder are married! Your younger sisters must be very young?”

“Yes, my youngest sister is not yet sixteen. She is a very mature young lady, though, and really, Madam, I think it would be very hard upon younger sisters that they should not have their share of society and amusement because their older sisters are not yet married. My sister Lydia has as much a right to the pleasures of youth as Jane, after all.”

“Upon my word,” Lady Catherine said, cutting a piece of ham with vigor, “you give your opinion very decidedly for so young a person. Pray, what is your age?”

“With three younger sisters grown up,” replied Elizabeth, “your Ladyship can hardly expect me to own it.”

Lady Catherine blinked in astonishment, obviously amazed at not being answered promptly and fully. “You cannot be more than twenty, I am sure, therefore you need not conceal your age.”

“I am not one-and-twenty,” Elizabeth agreed.

It was at this point that Anne, who had been hitherto silent, murmured, “She is delightful, Darcy.”

Darcy jerked in surprise and turned a sheepish look on his cousin. “I apologize, Anne; I have been neglecting you.”

Anne took a drink of dinner wine, a slight smile playing on her narrow lips. “And who can blame you,” she said, “with such an inducement?”

Darcy felt himself flush, and he took a bite of ragout, the better to cover up his embarrassment. “I, erm…”

“You need not say anything,” Anne muttered, so softly that he could barely hear her, and certainly Lady Catherine could not; the mistress of Rosings was now debating with Elizabeth about the necessary accomplishments required of a society lady.

“I have never seen you look upon a woman with such obvious admiration, Cousin. I quite approve; anyone who can go toe to toe with my mother and battle her to a verbal draw is a force to be reckoned with.”

Darcy could not believe that he and his cousin were having this conversation in the middle of dinner, with Lady Catherine and Elizabeth in the midst of a spirited argument, with Lady Matlock interviewing Miss Bennet, but there was so much general noise that it was safe enough.

“I presume that means that you do not wish for me to make you an offer of marriage?” he breathed in return.

“Most assuredly I do not. If you did, I would refuse you, but I confess that I would prefer my mother have no hint of my plans for another two months.”

“What plans?” Darcy asked, considering her uneasily.

Anne smiled openly now, and he found himself regarding her with surprise.

His cousin had always seemed a cipher to him – sickly, pale, weak, and entirely under the domination of her autocratic mother.

There was something new in those pale blue eyes now – a calculating intelligence, a determination, which Darcy had never seen before.

“I will turn five and twenty in late February,” Miss de Bourgh explained, holding a glass of wine in one delicate hand. “At that time I will, according to my father’s will, take legal control of Rosings in spite of my status as a spinster.”

Darcy chewed, swallowed, and took a sip from his own glass, his gaze shifting from Anne at his side to Lady Catherine across from him. The matron was now debating with Elizabeth over whether it was possible for a landowner from the wilds of Yorkshire to be considered a true gentleman.

“I understand the Dower House to be quite a charming residence,” Darcy suggested, though rather doubtfully.

“Yes, it is reasonably large, well maintained, and a perfect residence for a lady of somewhat advanced years,” Anne responded and grinned mischievously. “I am confident my mother will be very happy there.”

This was, of course, a bare-faced lie. Lady Catherine would be enraged at being dislodged from her position as mistress of Rosings, which she considered, in turn, gave her authority over all of the inhabitants of the surrounding parish.

But legally, Anne was in the right of it, and it appeared that, counter to Darcy’s expectations, she fully intended to battle for control over the estate.

Darcy blew out a long breath and then turned his attention back on Elizabeth, even as he set aside his fork and knife.

He was too excited to feel hunger now. Anne did not wish to marry him, which meant he did not need to worry about potentially distressing her.

A few feet away, Miss Elizabeth was strenuously arguing with one of the most annoying, difficult women he had ever had the privilege of knowing.

She was a courageous gem, Miss Elizabeth!

/

“May I inquire as to why you wish to marry my son, Miss Bennet?” Lady Matlock asked.

Richard glared at his mother, but Jane, who was not intimidated by the Countess, smiled and said, “I love Richard. He is intelligent, diligent, courageous, and loyal.”

“He is also a son of the Earl of Matlock,” Richard’s mother pointed out, watching Jane intently.

“Yes, Madame, but he can hardly help that, poor man,” Jane responded with limpid simplicity, which provoked a snort of mirth from Richard, and a look of amazement on Lady Matlock’s face.

“My apologies, my lady,” Jane continued, gazing directly into the Countess’s eyes.

“Of course it is a great honor to be a son of the house of Matlock, but Richard is not the heir. I am thankful for that, as it seems that his choice of wife, while unexpected, will not bring as much criticism as if he were the heir to the estate.”

“Not that I would heed such criticism in the least,” Richard declared, and his eyes glittered with such fervency that Lady Matlock, who was sincerely attached to her second son, realized that she ought to tread with care.

“I have always desired that Richard be happy in his choice of wife,” she said, “and I find you a most charming young lady, along with being remarkably handsome. In many ways, you seem his perfect bride.”

“But not in all ways,” Jane said in an understanding tone, “because I am not a woman of fortune. I assure you that you need not be concerned. Richard is not a gamester, nor am I, and I am quite able to live a frugal existence until Richard gains control of Fairhaven.”

“But can Richard do the same?”

“I can, Mother,” Richard said. “Perhaps you forget that I spent many months on the Peninsula, living in tents, shivering on muddy trails, and eating scraggly chicken for meals. So long as Jane is not unhappy with a somewhat parsimonious lifestyle, we will be well.”

“Then I give you my blessing, Miss Bennet.”

“Thank you, Lady Matlock.”

/

“Do not linger over your port,” Lady Matlock said to her husband and then guided the rest of the women out of the room, leaving the men to their wine.

Her lord waited until the door shut behind the womenfolk, and he then turned a thoughtful gaze on his second son. “Your fiancée is a most attractive young woman, and her manners are excellent.”

“I am glad you approve, Father.”

“I would not say I entirely approve; Lady Catherine is correct that it would be better if Miss Bennet were a woman of substance.”

“And I say that it matters not. Thanks to Darcy’s generosity, I will be master of Fairhaven in a few years, and Jane does not require a lavish lifestyle.”

“She may say that,” Lord Matlock grumbled, lifting his glass to peer at the ruby dregs of his wine, “but wait until the Season arrives, and she realizes she needs six new dresses.”

“I do not pretend to know Miss Bennet particularly well,” Darcy interposed, “but I am confident that she is modest in her wants. Richard has chosen very well for himself.”

His uncle looked dubious, but obviously concluded there was no reason to continue his pessimistic statements. His son had offered and been accepted, and no gentleman would renege on an engagement.

“We must think of you, Darcy,” the older man said, changing the subject. “Are you still determined not to marry your cousin, Anne?”

“Yes, sir. I am certain that we are not well suited.”

“Does Anne know that?” his uncle demanded.

“She does,” Darcy answered, “though Lady Catherine does not.”

“Oh ho! And you do not wish to inform my sister of this current reality, as you are not of a mind to hear her blustering?”

“That would be my preference, sir, though it is of no great import. I will not be browbeaten by her or anyone else into marrying outside of my own inclination.”

“I would not expect you to do so,” Lord Matlock said, “but you must realize that as the master of Pemberley, you can reach very high for a bride. Now the third daughter of the Earl of Bramstoke is quite a good-looking young woman, and her dowry…”

“Oh, Father, she would not do for Darcy at all!” Richard interrupted. “You know that she greatly enjoys society, and Darcy dislikes Town life. No, I think he will need to look elsewhere. Perhaps Miss Grantley?”

“Miss Grantley? Nonsense, Richard, what are you thinking of? She is pretty enough, but there is nothing but fluff between her ears. She is not well suited for Darcy at all! Now what of…”

Darcy, initially inclined to be exasperated at this interplay between father and son, quickly calmed when he realized that Richard was distracting the earl from a genuine discussion of Darcy’s future marriage prospects.

Because he, Fitzwilliam Darcy, already knew which lady he wished to marry.