My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,
As I sit at this desk in awe of the most splendid of gifts that you have offered me this night, my heart overflows with love. The loneliness has dissipated, and I do not speak of the physical closeness we shared last evening — as exquisite as it was — I speak of the happiness that you have brought to my life and to Pemberley. From the beginning, you destroyed my hard-earned peace, and many times I found myself spiraling out of control, but I would, willingly, suffer the pain again to know you for but one day — one hour, even.You are everything — firmly planted are my hopes — you are the coming chapters of my life’s book.
D
A tear slid down her cheek, but Elizabeth didn’t whisk it away. He had rattled her senses that night. Rattled. Shaken. Turned her world upside down in the most tantalizing ways. Her heart had pounded so intensely when she’d looked upon her husband for the first time: It had mimicked the cadence of his as Darcy drew her into his embrace. Unbelievable desire had coursed through her — ricocheted through her body and devoured her soul. Luckily, she’d spoken quite frankly with her Aunt Gardiner prior to the wedding night. If not, his power over her might have frightened Elizabeth. Instead, she’d viewed it as a challenge, and although she’d allowed Darcy to lead, she’d learned to exercise her own power. Elizabeth loved it when he surrendered to her — when he couldn’t deny her.
A smile turned up her mouth’s corners. They were good together — the absolute best. Her hand instinctively rested on her abdomen. “Please, God,” she whispered. “This time… please.” She wanted so desperately to prove to Darcy and to the world that she was worthy of being the Mistress of Pemberley — worthy of his love.
For the next hour, Elizabeth thumbed through the various notes and letters. Two of them she’d left folded — letters from Darcy after each miscarriage. Ignoring them didn’t mean that she’d never read them — quite the reverse. They were two of her favorites, but she held the strong belief that this gestation would prove successful if she could control all the outside forces — neither too much gaiety nor too much hardness nor too much melancholy. She would keep an evenness — an equable, systematic, methodical order. Maybe then God would see fit to reward her with the child she desperately wanted.
“Maybe it’s my punishment for the sin of pride. I once thought too highly of my own intelligence and not enough of Fitzwilliam’s inherent goodness.” Mr. Darcy’s constancy had never ceased to amaze her. She could not think of Darcy without feeling that she had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd. Fixed there by the keenest of all anguish and self-reproach, she could find no interval of ease or forgetfulness. “Punish me, God,” she whispered. “Not him. My husband is the best of men.”
Swallowing back her tears, Elizabeth put the letters away. A few moments later, Darcy’s knock announced his return. He kissed her cheek upon his entrance. “I see you’ve managed without my serving as your maid,” he remarked as he strode past her.
“I didn’t realize you wished to assume Hannah’s duties, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth said teasingly as she closed and locked the door behind him.
Darcy turned toward her, a smug smile gracing his lips. “I’m more adept at removal of garments, Mrs. Darcy.”
She crossed the room and crawled into the bed. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sir, in case you ever need a reference letter.”
Darcy watched his wife carefully, trying to take his cue from her. “Did you find something entertaining to do?” He removed his jacket and draped it over a chair’s back and then turned his attention to his cravat.
“Just some quiet time,” she said as she draped the blanket across her lap.
Darcy continued to undress before stoking the fire again with more coal and kindling. “We may be here a couple of days, Elizabeth,” he informed her as he joined her under the wool blankets. “Two more gentlemen have taken shelter. They came north from Manchester. They said the storm was just beginning in the south when they left, but it turned icier the farther north they traveled.” He blew out the lone candle.
“How in the world did Mr. Washington accommodate them?” she asked with some surprise.
“Mr. Horvak and Sir Jonathan graciously agreed to double up.”
Elizabeth turned into his embrace as Darcy slid his arm under her pillow. She rested her head upon his shoulder. “Then I’m still the only female among Mr. Washington’s guests.” She could not disguise the tentativeness in her tone.
“I will protect you, Elizabeth.”
“I know, Fitzwilliam. I’m just being foolish.”
“Mother, we cannot,” Anne De Bourgh offered her weak protest. She’d have liked to say more, but Anne had never taken a stand with Lady Catherine — with anyone, for that matter. Never rendered formidable by silence, whatever Lady Catherine said was spoken in so authoritative a tone as marked her self-importance. Anne often wished she could replicate even a quarter of her mother’s unflappable nature.
“And why not, may I ask? We cannot travel to William’s Wood. Observe the roads, Child.” Anne peered through the frosty coach window at the sand-like peppering of the ice pellets on the roadside. A sheen of frigid crystals accumulated in every rut and opening. “Mr. Swank’s an excellent coachman, for I’d have none without his expertise, but even he’s having difficulty keeping the coach on the road. Martin has released the staff at Matley Manor. Where else would you have us seek shelter?”
“An inn,” Anne offered.
Lady Catherine chortled. “You wish to spend Christmas in a common inn? Sometimes I wonder if the midwife didn’t switch out my child with one of lesser birth, but then I recall Sir Lewis’s reticence, and I know you to be his. The poor man nearly had apoplexy when he asked my late father for my hand. As dear of a man as ever walked the earth, but he’d have allowed the lowest laborer to walk away with Rosings Park if I hadn’t insisted otherwise.”
“Yes, Mother,” Anne said obediently.
“Yes, you wish to spend your Christmas at an inn or yes, your mother is correct about your father’s faintheartedness?”
“Yes to the dire situation that the roads present,” Anne said — the closest she’d ever come to defiance. Her mother’s frequent remarks about Anne’s father always irritated her. Anne’s former world of love and carefree acceptance had died with the late baronet.
Lady Catherine asked smugly, “Then you agree that we should seek Pemberley’s shelter?”
“What if Mr. Darcy refuses us admittance?” Anne asked apprehensively.
Lady Catherine sighed deeply. “Were you not listening to Georgiana when she announced that Darcy and that woman he calls his wife were away from Pemberley? Even with that touch of mettle that I noted on this last visit to Matlock, your cousin possesses both civility and good manners. She’ll welcome us.”
“And when Mr. Darcy returns?”
Lady Catherine smiled knowingly. “The man’s a Darcy. Like his father, Fitzwilliam shall snidely deliver a lecture regarding my duty to his wife, and then he’ll welcome the inconvenience. He shall wear his triumph over me as honor’s badge.”
Still seeking a way to change her mother’s mind,Anne reasoned, “I wouldn’t wish you to feel Mr. Darcy’s contempt,Your Ladyship. A stay at a common inn would be better than your losing face within the family.”
Lady Catherine laughed softly. “Do you think I’d permit any man dominion over me? All the time Darcy parades his condescension, I shall have the knowledge that I managed to walk uninvited into his home, and there was nothing he could do about it, except to allow me the choice of where I wished to spend the festive days. Darcy is bound to receive me by duty; I’ll stay at Pemberley by choice.”
Anne observed, “The Mistress of Pemberley may have other plans.”
A wrinkle of her aristocratic nose signaled Lady Catherine’s distaste. “The former Miss Bennet shall never defy Mr. Darcy.” Even as she said the words, Lady Catherine recalled Elizabeth Bennet’s obstinacy. “Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy?” she had argued with the girl. “Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”
And Elizabeth Bennet had stood there, defiant as ever, when she said, “Yes, and I had heard it before. But what is that to me? If there is no other objection to my marrying your nephew, I shall certainly not be kept from it by knowing that his mother and aunt wished him to marry Miss De Bourgh.You both did as much as you could in planning the marriage; its completion depended on others. If Mr. Darcy is neither by honor nor inclination confined to his cousin, why is not he to make another choice? And if I am that choice, why not I accept him?”
“Oh, yes,” Lady Catherine thought, “the girl was quite capable of defying Darcy. And what better way to put a chink in their reported marital bliss?”
She’d done her best to align Anne with Darcy, but her daughter had always feigned illness rather than interact with Society. In the early days, she had fought her only child, but her efforts brought Anne such physical pain that after a while, she’d abandoned her efforts to bring Anne to heel and had concentrated her administrations on her sister’s only son, trying to reason with Darcy, to make him see the match’s advantage. However, her nephew foiled the best of Lady Catherine’s plans.
“Despite her poor connections, Mrs. Darcy holds social graces. She’ll extend her welcome to her husband’s family.”
Anne wanted to argue further, to convince her mother of how incogitant it was to impose themselves on the Darcys, especially at Christmastide, to speak of Her Ladyship’s own poor manners. But Anne could never find her voice when meeting her mother’s close inspection. She truly possessed her father’s personality, and as much as Anne missed him, missed the feeling of belonging that Sir Lewis had provided his only child, moments existed when she wished more for Mrs. Darcy’s ability to thwart Lady Catherine’s plans.
Although she desired her own home and family, Anne had understood that her marrying Darcy was never a reality. The man intimidated her. Even as a boy, Darcy had tormented her for her shyness, claiming it a weakness. Despite being more than a bit humiliated, Anne actually found that amusing. Better than anyone else, she recognized diffidence in both Darcy and Georgiana. She’d always thought Darcy amplified her faults in order to disguise his own.
“It’ll be agreeable to spend Christ’s birthday with family,” Anne observed. “To have Mr. Darcy’s good favor again. To know an end to this feud. I’ve truly missed Fitzwilliam and Georgiana.”
“Do not fool yourself, Child,” Lady Catherine warned. “Mr. Darcy’s forgiveness shall be late coming, and if you imagine that I’m of the persuasion to guard my usual frankness in reference to my nephew’s marital nearsightedness, you’ll be sadly disappointed. Only when Mr. Darcy admits his mistake shall I extend my forbearance.”
Silently, Anne groaned. She knew from private moments with Georgiana at Matlock that Mr. Darcy violently loved the former Elizabeth Bennet. When that fact was added to his reluctance to admit any weakness, it wasn’t likely that he would give Lady Catherine any satisfaction. They’d intrude on the Darcys’ Christmas, ruining the day for everyone.
“Do you suppose that Georgiana is safe?” Elizabeth asked as she and Darcy shared breakfast in the inn’s limited seating area.
“Georgiana is fine,” he assured. “She was to return to Pemberley two days prior, but even if my sister was delayed, my Uncle Matlock would see to her safety.”
Elizabeth looked longingly at the snowy landscape through the ice-laced windowpanes. “Might we take a short walk, Fitzwilliam?” she asked, lost in her own world.
Darcy recognized her need for daily exercise. Traveling for two days had left Elizabeth confined to his traveling coach. More often than he should, Darcy recalled how Charles Bingley’s sister, Caroline, had criticized Elizabeth for her preference in walking. “To walk three miles, or four miles, or five miles, or whatever it is, above her ankles in dirt, and alone, quite alone! What could she mean by it? It seems to me to show an abominable sort of conceited independence, a most country-town indifference to decorum.”
Darcy smiled knowingly. “I would love some time outdoors,” he responded genuinely. “Especially with you.” He teasingly waggled his eyebrows.
His amusing attempt to ease her qualms spoke of Darcy’s love. Elizabeth drew in a deep, determined, definitive breath. “Why is it?” she whispered. “Why, after two years, do I still see you as I did on our wedding night?”
Darcy felt his groin tighten: She had that effect on him. And Elizabeth had just uttered the most provocative thought wrapped in a cloak of sentimentality, something she did with regularity. It kept him off balance — topsy-turvy. He would be going about his duties as Pemberley’s master, and his wife would say something inviting, and his thoughts were lost to her. It had been that way from the beginning: Elizabeth would challenge him with a pert curve turning up her mouth’s corner. Lord, help him! The woman had no idea how crazy she drove him!
“Because I love you. From the day I met you, I saw us — Us as the way life should be,” he murmured close to her ear.
He noted the memory of heated sensations in his wife’s eyes as his breath’s warmth caressed her neck. “I may return to my bed before the walk,” she seductively said.
Darcy warmed from the inside out. He stood slowly. “A man should see his wife to their chamber.” He held out his hand. Elizabeth placed her fingers into his palm, and his grasp closed tightly about them.
“Does everyone have a hat and gloves?” Bingley asked as he surveyed the group gathered in Pemberley’s main foyer. “Last evening held an icy mix. Watch your step and stay close together.”
“Do not forget the mistletoe,” Kitty taunted good-naturedly.
Georgiana motioned toward the house’s rear. “If we exit through the upper gardens we can reach the woods in half the time and distance.”
“Lead on, Miss Darcy,” Mr. Bennet proposed. “You know the best way.”
Elizabeth waited patiently as Darcy spoke to Mr.Washington about the area surrounding the inn. They had spent the last hour in bed, and now they would walk off the remainder of their “stranded” frustrations. Although the facilities were adequate, Elizabeth would prefer her own home at Christmas.With Mrs. Reynolds’s assistance, she’d planned the decorations. Her first Christmastide at Pemberley, she was still a bride, less than two months married, and Elizabeth had bowed to Pemberley’s long-time housekeeper’s wishes. Having celebrated her second wedding anniversary in November, this was to be her third Christmas as Pemberley’s mistress and her first at planning the Tenants’ celebration. She’d hate to leave final preparations to Georgiana.
Christmas in this dreary inn would be a sorry excuse for a holiday if the roads didn’t clear soon. Looking about the room, Elizabeth’s eyes fell on Darcy. She sighed deeply. At least, they were together. Being at Pemberley meant nothing if her husband was elsewhere.
“A copper for your thoughts,” Darcy said as he approached.
Elizabeth bestowed a brilliant smile upon him. “I’d just considered how fortunate I am to be your wife. To be at Pemberley would be heavenly, but not without your presence. Though I must admit that sometimes when we’re there, I imagine our hearts beating in tandem.” Her frankness always appeared to have the oddest effect on Darcy. His eyes devoured her.
“Even when I thought I’d lost you forever, I lived with hope. I am thankful you became my forever, Elizabeth,” he murmured softly.
“You have me now, Mr. Darcy,” she said, keeping her voice light.
His steely grey eyes turned onyx. “And I bless each day because of your love.”
As they stared lovingly at each other, the innkeeper’s wife hustled toward the kitchen, and Elizabeth impulsively turned to the woman. “Mrs. Washington.”
“Yes, Mrs. Darcy?” The pleasingly plump woman brushed a hair’s strand from her flushed face.
Elizabeth caught Darcy’s hand to pull him along with her as she approached the harrowed-looking woman. “I realize you’re terribly busy and probably haven’t considered how close Christmas Day might be.”
The woman sighed deeply. “Me and Mr. Washington planned a quiet day, but the English weather be having other ideas.”
“Would you mind, Ma’am, if Mr. Darcy and I cut some greenery and brought it back to the inn? A bit of the festive days?”
“Are you certain, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked. She knew he worried she might overdo it.
“Please, Fitzwilliam. I want Christmas; I really want Christmas at Pemberley, but if that proves impossible, I want Christmas here. I cannot tolerate bare rooms and nothing recognizing the day’s meaning.”
Darcy nodded. She noted something secretive passing over his countenance, but Elizabeth assumed he had bought her something expensive, and it awaited her at Pemberley. “I’ll see if I can recruit several of the other gentlemen. We’ll cut the branches while you supervise. I’m sure Padget and Horvak will want some exercise.” He started away to where the men sat playing cards.
“See if any of the gents be interested in some hunting,” Mrs. Washington said to Darcy’s back.
He turned to her. “Why is that necessary, Ma’am? Is there something we should know?”
“Well, Mr. Washington be unhappy with me mentioning it, but we didn’t plan for so many guests for the days before Christmas. Supplies be getting’ a bit low. Feeding ten folks, yer help, plus our workers and arn selves takes a bit of doing.”
“I will ask,” Darcy assured her. “Are there guns available if anyone is interested?”
“I sees to it, Mr. Darcy.”
“Lady Catherine!” Mr. Nathan blustered as he helped the woman with her cloak. “I was unaware of your arrival, Ma’am.”
Lady Catherine ignored Darcy’s servant. “Where is my niece? I must speak to Miss Darcy. Is there no one to greet me in this great house?”
A woman Her Ladyship didn’t recognize stepped into the hallway from the morning room. “May I be of assistance,Your Ladyship?”
Lady Catherine menacingly asked, “Who might you be, and why are you serving as hostess in my niece’s stead?”
Obviously disconcerted by her question, the woman flustered. “Bingley… I am Miss Bingley,” she stammered. “Charles Bingley, Mr. Darcy’s friend, is my brother. Charles and Mrs. Bingley have joined Miss Darcy in the nearby woods to gather greenery for the holiday decorations.”
“I see,” Lady Catherine scowled. Although she was well aware that the woman standing before her had once held aspirations of being Mrs. Darcy, Her Ladyship had never met Mr. Darcy’s friend. Normally, Lady Catherine would consider making the woman an ally in convincing Darcy to be civil during her intrusion; however, despite Miss Bingley’s social graces, Lady Catherine considered the woman below the current Mrs. Darcy. Miss Bingley may have more money and a better education than the former Elizabeth Bennet, but Mr. Bingley’s father had dealt in trade. Miss Bingley was a Cit! Disregarding the lady’s offer of assistance, Lady Catherine instructed Darcy’s staff. “Miss Anne and her companion shall require adjoining suites, and I shall have my usual chambers.”
“I have sent word to Mrs. Reynolds,Your Ladyship. Would you care to join Miss Bingley in the morning room?”
Lady Catherine glanced at where Miss Bingley waited patiently. “I think not, Mr. Nathan. We had an early breakfast at my brother Matlock’s. Some tea and biscuits shall be sufficient. Anne and I shall await Miss Darcy in the small drawing room.”
Mr. Nathan bowed obediently. “I will have someone see to the hearth and send a footman to find Miss Darcy.” He led the way to the room. “I will serve the tea myself, Ma’am.”
Kitty mischievously scooped a handful of snow into a tight ball. She hid her icy creation under her cloak’s flap and waited for Mr. Bingley to step away from Jane. She had thought to hit Mr. Grange, but neither Mary nor the gentleman possessed a sense of humor. “Look,” Kitty whispered to Georgiana. “Let’s see if Mr. Bingley can protect himself. You make one also, and we shall attack together.”
Georgiana smiled easily. Gathering the evergreen branches and holly had gone well. “Do you suppose it would anger Mr. Bingley?” Without waiting for an answer, Georgiana formed a ball from the line of snow sitting on the fence rail.
“Mr. Bingley?” Kitty chuckled. “As amiable as my sister’s husband is? Not likely.”
Georgiana giggled. “Then let’s have some enjoyment.”
Mr. Bingley bent to gather an armful of branches, but as he turned his back, two snowy spheres found his right shoulder. Plop! Splat!
Surprised, he turned to see Kitty and Georgiana hugging each other tightly while stifling bursts of laughter. “Ah!” he smiled widely. “So, that’s how it’s to be. A man labors to please a woman’s whims, and then she turns on him,” he taunted. As Bingley spoke, he dropped his stack of pine boughs on a horse blanket they had earlier spread on the ground, and then he armed himself. Playfully tossing the icy ball into the air, he teased, “You leave me no other choice, Sisters, but to defend myself.”
Jane Bingley stepped between the girls and her husband. “Kitty was just playing, Charles.”
“Oh, no, my wife,” he continued his banter, “our sisters have declared war.”
Kitty peered around her eldest sister. “No war, Mr. Bingley. Just men against women.”
Bingley’s hands flitted in large circles above his head. “Oh, woe! We are beset! Come along, Grange; you’re with me, as are you, Father Bennet.”
“Charles!” Jane warned.
“No reasoning permitted, Mrs. Bingley,” he mocked. “You’re now one of them.” To prove his point, Bingley lobbed his snowball in his wife’s direction.
Laughing, Jane attempted to return his attack, but her icy missile actually fell apart before it made contact.
Totally enjoying the play, Kitty and Georgiana hastily squeezed fist-sized snow sausages and flung them in the direction of the three men. Mary’s efforts were less stellar, but even she became caught up in the spontaneous fun.
“Sorry, Papa,” Kitty called as one of her efforts slid down her father’s neck and into his cravat.
“Careful with my wife,” Bingley cautioned the other men. “Remember she’s carrying my child.”
“Then my eldest shouldn’t put herself in the way of my best pitch.” Mr. Bennet purposely barreled a loosely packed snowball at Jane.
“Papa!” she protested, but returned a strong lob, landing a solid hit in the middle of his chest.
Laughter filled the frosty morning air. Soon, it was no longer men versus women. Each person fought everyone else, and cloaks and greatcoats were soon drenched in snow. Just as Mr. Bingley caught his wife and planned to dump her in a nearby snowdrift, the clearing of a deep voice brought them all up short.
“Yes, Thomas?” Georgiana fought to catch her breath.
“Pardon, Miss Darcy. Mr. Nathan asked me to fetch you. Your aunt, Lady Catherine, is waiting for you in the small drawing room.”
Georgiana gasped, “Lady Catherine?”
“Yes, Miss. She and Miss De Bourgh.”
Georgiana swayed in place. “Oh, Lord,” she murmured. “What could Her Ladyship mean by her visit?”
“Do you wish me to accompany you, Miss Darcy?” Mrs. Bingley came to stand beside her.
Georgiana shook off the idea. “No, I should see my aunt alone.” She took off at a trot in the house’s direction.
Mrs. Bingley turned to her husband. “Charles, you and Mr. Grange should oversee bringing the greenery to the house. Papa, could you intercede with my mother until after Miss Darcy has the opportunity to address Lady Catherine’s needs.”
“I’m on my way, Jane.” Mr. Bennet followed Georgiana toward the side door.
“Kitty,” Jane continued. “I know Miss Darcy needs to tend to Her Ladyship alone, but you might be available to support her — even if she thinks she doesn’t need it.”
“Certainly.” Kitty rushed to catch up with her father.
“Caroline’s at the house,” Bingley assured his wife.
Jane glanced quickly to where Mary assisted Mr. Grange.Assured of some privacy, she said,“That’s what I fear. Lady Catherine knows nothing of Elizabeth’s problems in carrying to term. I would prefer that she didn’t learn of Lizzy’s anguish from either my mother or your sister. Neither would realize the pain that such knowledge in Lady Catherine’s hands would give Mrs. Darcy.”
“Then you should speak to Caroline,” Bingley observed.
“It might be better coming from you, Charles. Caroline has no true affection for Elizabeth. She would disregard my pleas on Lizzy’s behalf.”
Bingley accepted the task immediately, as his wife gave orders to the waiting footmen. He certainly didn’t look forward to speaking to Caroline about such a private matter, but he would for Darcy. Although, as a man, Darcy hadn’t displayed his feeling, Bingley knew that his friend had suffered as much as Mrs. Darcy, and that Darcy would feel compelled to protect Elizabeth — to be strong for his wife. Bingley would do whatever was necessary to divert Caroline’s spitefulness.
Georgiana tucked in several wisps of loose hair as she rushed to where Lady Catherine waited. A thousand errant thoughts rushed through her head. She couldn’t send Lady Catherine away, but what could she do about having both her aunt and Elizabeth’s family under the same roof? “Oh, Fitzwilliam, I wish you were here,” she groaned. Opening the room’s door, her fears jumped to the forefront: Mrs. Bennet jabbered away, and Lady Catherine didn’t look pleased.
“Why, Lady Catherine. Imagine my surprise when Mrs. Reynolds and I received word of your arrival.” Mrs. Bennet swept into the room. “I immediately made my way to greet you properly. You’re aware, I am certain, that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy are away, but they are expected by this evening.” She sat without being given leave to do so. “I’m surprised that Miss Darcy didn’t mention your arrival, Your Ladyship. What a grand surprise it’ll be for Mr. Darcy! Oh! I’m ahead of myself. Certainly, Mr. Darcy must have invited you to Pemberley also.”
Lady Catherine bit her words. “My nephew… Mr. Darcy invited you to Pemberley?”
“Of course.You didn’t think me here uninvited?” Mrs. Bennet helped herself to tea. “Even with my Elizabeth as mistress of this great household, I’d wait for an invitation.” Mrs. Bennet thought of how long she had waited to be a part of Elizabeth’s life, but she certainly wouldn’t disclose that fact to a woman who had maligned her daughter. Plus, she recalled quite well Lady Catherine’s Longbourn visit. She had tried to make the best of an awkward situation, but Her Ladyship had been less than pleasant.
In fact, Mrs. Bennet had thought she’d outshone the great woman. Lady Catherine had arrived at an early hour — one too early in the morning for visitors. Her Ladyship had entered the sitting room with an air more than usually ungracious, had made no other reply to Elizabeth’s salutation than a slight inclination of the head, and had sat down without saying a word. Mrs. Bennet admitted to being flattered by having a guest of such high importance and had received Lady Catherine with the utmost politeness, but Her Ladyship had rudely questioned Elizabeth, had criticized Mrs. Bennet’s favorite sitting room, and had marked their lack of a proper garden. All she could do was to valiantly defend her home by reminding Lady Catherine that she possessed more than did Sir William Lucas, of whom Her Ladyship openly approved.
Now, the same formidable aristocrat sat before her, and Mrs. Bennet had an opportunity to rise once again above Lady Catherine’s censure. However, before Her Ladyship could respond, Miss Darcy rushed into the room. “Lady Catherine,” she gushed as she dropped a curtsy. “I was unaware you planned to join us at Pemberley. Had I known, I would’ve been here to receive you.” Georgiana fought the urge to wipe her sweaty palms on her day dress.
“I’ve seen to Her Ladyship,” Mrs. Bennet announced.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” Georgiana took a few tentative steps forward. “The others are bringing in the greenery,” she improvised. “I heard Mr. Bennet asking for you. I’m afraid we let our mirth carry us away. Your husband needs your assistance to ward off a chill… dry clothes and hot tea.” Georgiana realized how she rambled on, but she couldn’t seem to stop.
Just then Kitty stepped into the open doorway. “Oh, there you are, Mama,” she said as if she had looked for her mother elsewhere. “Papa sent me to find you.” Awkwardly, she turned to Georgiana. “Excuse me, Miss Darcy. I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”
“It is well, Miss Kitty,” Georgiana said with a thankful smile.
“Men are so helpless, are they not,Your Ladyship?” Mrs. Bennet stood to make her exit.
Lady Catherine glowered from the familiarity. “I’m certain I would have no notion of such a weakness,” she hissed.
“Come along, Mama.” Kitty said firmly from the doorway. She offered a respectful curtsy. “Lady Catherine. Miss De Bourgh.” Then she led her mother from the room.
Lady Catherine waited to hear the receding footsteps before saying, “Mrs. Jenkinson, would you see to our rooms and our luggage?”
“Certainly, Your Ladyship.”
“And close the door on your way out.”
Lady Catherine paused until Anne’s companion departed, and then she turned her anger on her niece. “Your brother — my nephew — saw fit to invite that woman and her daughters to Pemberley!” she accused. “In my sister’s house that witless excuse for a mother presumes to serve as hostess! Lady Anne Darcy must have turned over in her grave. It’s bad enough that Darcy places that obstinate, headstrong girl in my dear sister’s stead, but to welcome a houseful of people of inferior birth is inconceivable — people of no importance in the world and wholly unallied to the family.”
Georgiana flinched, but the litany fell from her shoulders. Her fists clenched, and her cheeks flushed, but she held her composure. She had not learned how to control her aunt’s venom, but she had learned how to allow the woman her censure without taking it personally. Elizabeth had taught her. Her sister, in a moment of pure abandon, had once described Lady Catherine’s attack — the one leading to Fitzwilliam’s renewing his proposal to Elizabeth. Georgiana had experienced one of her numerous diffident moments, which had ended in tears and in Elizabeth’s embrace. To highlight her explanation, Georgiana’s sister had acted out the scene between her and Darcy’s aunt. It brought giggles of disbelief, but it also demonstrated to Georgiana that she should not allow Lady Catherine — or anyone else, for that matter — to define her. Therefore, despite her aunt’s reproach, she didn’t believe that Fitzwilliam’s display of affections would upset their mother. Georgiana had few direct memories of her parents’ reported love affair, but every story spoke of their devotion.
“Lady Catherine,” she began tentatively, “as Pemberley’s master, Fitzwilliam may invite whomever he chooses to his home. My brother wished to share his festive days with his wife’s family. It’s not for me to criticize.” Georgiana left the implication for her aunt to interpret.
Frost dusted Her Ladyship’s countenance, and as if she’d not heard her niece, Lady Catherine continued, “To complicate the matter, Darcy has opened his door to that family of Cits.”
Georgiana blinked away her confusion. “Do you speak of Mr. Bingley’s family, Aunt?”
“Who else, Child?”
Georgiana shot a pleading glance at her cousin, but Anne remained seated with downcast eyes. The rebellious part of Georgiana’s mind screamed that she was no longer a child, but one look at her aunt’s outraged countenance quashed that urge. “Mr. Bingley and my brother have been acquaintances for several years. The Bingleys have often shared Fitzwilliam’s hospitality. I don’t understand your sudden objection, Lady Catherine.”
“My objection,” Her Ladyship snapped, “is that I’m to be subjected to an array of commonness from those who seek positions above their reach by using their dirty hands to throw about their wealth to those who possess airs beyond their low connections!”
Georgiana could no longer accept her aunt’s dictatorial attitude without an argument. It was all of a piece with Lady Catherine. “Let me see, Your Ladyship, if I understand. As a child, I may lack the capacity to comprehend.You’ve invited yourself to my brother’s home and now object to those with whom Fitzwilliam has chosen to spend the festive days. As it’s such a wholly dishonorable situation, I’ll ask Mr. Nathan to arrange for your safe passage to Lambton or wherever you choose to seek lodging.” Georgiana turned on her heels to leave.
“Have you gone batty, Georgiana?” Lady Catherine charged.
Her aunt’s words stung. Hers was a false bravado covering a very fragile self-confidence, and for a fleeting moment, Georgiana wondered if she played dangerously with her brother’s good will.Yet, a small voice — Elizabeth’s voice — said Fitzwilliam would celebrate his sister’s liberation. Her spine stiffened. “Have I omitted some fact, Your Ladyship?”
Lady Catherine chortled. “The abominable roads, Georgiana,” she reminded her niece. “If the conditions were acceptable, and I wasn’t to meet Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Anne and I could have returned to Kent or London or even have chosen to spend our days with Matlock and Lindale. They await Lindale’s heir to the Earldom. Under these horrendous conditions, you cannot mean to send me out on the icy roads.”
“I wouldn’t have you injured in any way, Your Ladyship.” A twinge of guilt ricocheted through Georgiana’s resolve. “But neither would I have you subjected to unacceptable company.”
“Your Ladyship, maybe we should return to Lambton,” Anne ventured. “Surely, Mr. Swank can maneuver the coach safely the five miles to the village.”
Lady Catherine glared at her only child. “First, to find appropriate rooms with the current road conditions would prove impossible. Second, there’s the issue of Mr. and Mrs. Collins. I sent word to the man yesterday that we would wait for him at Pemberley.”
Georgiana felt another surge of seething anger. She presented a calm exterior, but every nerve ending stood on alert. Despite her best efforts, a mulish set locked Georgiana’s jaw. “If I understand your current disapprobation, Your Ladyship, you disdain my brother’s chosen house guests. Yet, you cannot leave Pemberley because of the road conditions and because yesterday you invited Mr. and Mrs. Collins to join you here. Without Fitzwilliam’s knowledge!” Georgiana could no longer conceal her frustrations. Her aunt’s actions defied comprehension.
Lady Catherine’s defiant chin rose another half inch. “That is an accurate summary.”
Wishing nothing more than a hasty retreat, Georgiana dropped a curtsy. “I must inform Mrs. Reynolds of the Collinses’ arrival. I’ll leave it to you, Your Ladyship, to determine whether you can maintain civility under such dire circumstances. Please keep in mind that Fitzwilliam shall require nothing less.”
Lady Catherine’s upper lip curled in what could only be described as a snarl. “I always thought you a wisp of a girl. You may have a backbone, after all. Although I must admit, I preferred the gentler, more caring Georgiana Darcy.”