Darcy rounded the table, returning her hawkish eye with all the cold anger her words and actions had birthed. “You have far overreached yourself, madam. There can be no excuse sufficient to pardon your interference in so personal an affair as you describe or to harangue one so wholly unrelated to you yet subject to your whims by your advantage of rank.”
“If I had brought it to you, you would only have denied it! Then where should we be? She, at least, did not deny —”
“Deny what?” Darcy’s hands itched to shake the woman before him, aunt or no. “How did you leave it with her?”
“She would promise me nothing! Though I plied her with every disadvantage attendant upon such a marriage, she would have none of it! She refused to promise not to enter into an engagement if such were offered. Obstinate, headstrong girl! And so I told her! She is determined to ruin you! She is set upon making you the joke of the world.”
Something like hope broke through the ice that had encased Darcy’s heart. She would not promise! She had suffered the most outrageous invasion of her privacy and inquisition of her character, yet she would not promise! Elizabeth…A warm feeling arose in his chest which he longed to nurture. If it were ever to become more, he must clear its path, a task that he must begin immediately.
“Your Ladyship.” Darcy stepped back and bowed. “I must be clear. Your actions in regard to Miss Elizabeth Bennet I can never approve or condone. Perhaps, however, I am somewhat at fault.”
“Humph!” his aunt snorted, a glimmer of triumph in her aspect. “That I should have to remind George Darcy’s son what he owes to himself and his family!”
“No, Madam, my fault lies in another direction entirely. A nuptial between Anne and me is something neither of us desires and never has.” Her Ladyship gasped, but Darcy cut her off. “I should have made that quite clear years ago, but instead, I took the easier path of silence at your hints and maneuverings in the hope that you yourself might see how impossible it would be. I must humbly beg your pardon for what I see now was not only cowardly but cruel.”
“Darcy, you cannot…Anne expects —”
“My cousin does not expect marriage from me. We have spoken of this and are agreed. My cruelty lies in allowing you to labor under a hopeless delusion rather than be forthright concerning the truth of our situation. For that, I beg pardon, Ma’am.” He bowed again.
His aunt for once was speechless. Her face contorted with the effort to assimilate what she had heard. She turned away, turned back as if to speak, and turned away again. Finally, with agonizing effort, her disappointment was cast aside and she rallied her other flank. “Be that as it may, Nephew, you will never impose that…that…woman upon your family! You cannot possibly mean to do so against all their wishes and expectations!”
“Madam!” Darcy warned.
“Such an alliance lies in opposition to all interest! She will not be received, have no doubt of that! Who is her family? They can claim no connections or standing save being the subject of the vilest scandal! The youngest daughter — surely you have heard of that! — run off with an officer to London! A patched-up, tawdry affair!”
“Madam, no more!” Darcy thundered, and for a moment his aunt quailed.
Hastily, she cast about for her shawls and hat. Clutching them to her, she turned upon him in such wrath as he had never seen. “I will not be silent! I am your nearest relation and must stand in the place of your parents. It is for their sakes and yours that I tell you marriage to that woman would be a disgrace!” Darcy stared at her in stony silence.
“If you persist in this folly,” she railed at him, “Rosings will be closed to you, your name will never be mentioned in my hearing, and I will forswear you as any relation of mine!”
“So be it, Madam; as you wish.” Darcy bowed to her once more and then strode to the door. “Lady Catherine’s carriage,” he called down the hall and, turning, held the door open for her. “Your Ladyship.”
“Do not think that I shall be the only one to object to such a misalliance!” Lady Catherine continued as she swept past him and down the stairs. “I shall write your uncle, Lord Matlock, immediately! He will make you see sense. He will cause you to know…”
Only when the door was closed behind her could Darcy release the breath that he’d held in anger against his aunt’s innumerable insults. Stepping to the window, he observed her storm out into the street below. Her carriage swaying under her fury, her driver pulled swiftly away from the curb and set the horses to a hurried trot. Well might she hurry, he thought, as he took up the decanter and poured himself a drink. Good God! He had never been so close to…! He picked up the glass and tossed down a portion. Then setting it down, he strode to the door, then back again. That impossible woman! He took another drink. What had she done! Standing in the middle of the room, his breath coming in chuffs, he raked his hand through his hair. Elizabeth so accosted! He shook his head. What could his aunt have heard that would send her posthaste to Hertfordshire? A mere rumor? No, he decided. There must have been more. He held his breath, attempting to calm himself enough to think rationally. What had his aunt done? What had been the actual result of her outrageous presumption?
Sitting down on the settee, he returned to the material truths of the entire extraordinary interview. Elizabeth would not promise not to accept him. That was what had so infuriated his aunt. Did he dare believe the converse? Would she accept him? Her manner during his last visit would never have tempted him to believe that she would. Why had she not said as much and been spared such insults? Was it her heart or her anger that had turned back Lady Catherine’s every demand? How was he ever to know unless he returned to Hertfordshire?
“Witcher!” he bellowed down the stairs. “Witcher!”
“Sir?” The old butler appeared, a look of apprehension on his face at such goings-on in the usually sedate confines of Erewile House.
“Order my traveling coach and send Fletcher up to pack. I wish to be gone in the morning!”
“Yes, sir!” the butler replied and scuttled off belowstairs as quickly as his old legs could carry him to deliver the master’s extraordinary demands to an already scandalized household.
“Have faith and wait,” Dy had counseled. Now, as he looked out the coach’s window at the passing scenery of a Hertfordshire afternoon, he could easily imagine the scene that had taken place. How imperious and insufferable his Aunt Catherine could be under the most modest of irritations, he knew very well; but in this, her passion had been thoroughly roused. It must have been terrible for Elizabeth to have been its object, yet she had with-stood it and refused to bow to demands easily met had she decided against him. For the hundredth time since yesterday, he wondered what was her mind and whether by returning to Hertfordshire he was committing folly enough to match all he had ever committed in his life.
In less time by the watch than his anxious thoughts could credit, his coach was rolling up Netherfield’s drive, and the house came into view. He had sent no letter announcing his return, and Bingley’s expectations of it were vague, as Darcy had wanted them to be in case he decided against it. His friend might not be home. But as the coach drew up to the house, the door opened, and Bingley stood at the entrance with a look of pure delight upon his open countenance.
“Darcy! I say, Darcy!” he exclaimed as he came down the steps to meet him. “This is above everything!” He grabbed his friend’s hand as soon as Darcy descended from the coach.
“Charles,” he began, “I apologize for giving you no warning —”