It was evident by the dark scowl he wore for most of the day that Darcy was by no means enjoying himself. Lord and Lady Matlock did their utmost to deflect Lady Catherine’s bitter expression and scathing remarks from their intended target—her new niece—but, as that great lady was not a woman used to being gainsaid, they were not entirely successful in their endeavors.
There was one moment, however, that brought Elizabeth unexpected comfort. Anne de Bourgh, who was forever under the constant observation and scrutiny of her imperious mother, had taken great pains to secure a moment alone with her cousin’s new wife, with the assistance of Georgiana and Lady Matlock. They found themselves in a small parlor abovestairs, and though a bit awkward at first, the meeting did not remain so for long as Anne, who had confessed to not being in the best of health, proclaimed her sincere delight upon having learned of Darcy’s marriage.
“My dear Mrs. Darcy,” she said in a demure voice, “I am thrilled for you both. I have long hoped Fitzwilliam would find a woman who would make him truly happy, as I have always known he and I have never shared my mother’s misdirected opinion that we could find felicity with each other. We are both of such a taciturn, unsocial nature and, therefore, in desperate need of marital companions who will bring us some liveliness.” She bowed her head then and said, with some emotion, “Do you think you could ever find it within your heart to forgive me for my mother’s unjust treatment of you, Mrs. Darcy? I have been greatly distressed since I first learnt of it and have been increasingly more so after witnessing her abominable behavior toward you today, as well.”
Taking pity upon her, Elizabeth touched the back of Miss de Bourgh’s hands, which were clasped tightly upon her lap. “Miss de Bourgh, I can hardly hold you accountable for your mother’s ill treatment of me. Please, think upon it no longer. I should dearly like for us to be friends.”
Miss de Bourgh raised her head and looked upon the new Mrs. Darcy with such an expression of appreciation and relief that Elizabeth had to smile. “Thank you. I should like that very much. I have had very little opportunity to form many friendships of my own choosing, and I believe your society would be a most enjoyable change of venue for me.”
The two ladies, unfortunately, were to have only a few more minutes of each other’s company before they were interrupted by Georgiana, who informed them that Lady Catherine was beginning to grow anxious over Anne’s whereabouts. They parted, however, with the plan of corresponding with each other through Lady Matlock, so as not to invoke the wrath of Lady Catherine. Elizabeth remained abovestairs after Georgiana had led Anne back to her mother. She was relieved to have found Miss de Bourgh to be the complete opposite of Lady Catherine. She smiled as she recalled the sincerity and kindness of her address and the happiness she had shown when Elizabeth had offered her friendship.
There was a knock upon the door then, and without waiting for a reply, Lady Matlock stepped into the room with a warm smile. “So, my dear, I understand you and Anne are to become good friends?”
Elizabeth returned her smile and nodded. “Yes. I must confess I am relieved to find her extremely amiable and kind. I was happy to make her acquaintance. Though I never doubted Fitzwilliam’s assurances his cousin would not be offended by his choosing me, I could not help but worry over meeting Miss de Bourgh, particularly after her mother had made such a strong impression upon me!”
Lady Matlock approached her. “You astound me, Elizabeth, with your ability to laugh over such shocking recollections. However do you manage it?”
Elizabeth shrugged and said, “I cannot say, but I have always found it is far better to laugh than to cry in some situations—one of the rare bits of knowledge I gleaned from my mother! Very often she would say or do something mortally embarrassing, which would bring a blush to my face; however, rather than crying over it, I would simply think instead of something to make myself laugh. I daresay the same philosophy shall help me greatly when moving in London society. I hear the ladies of the ton can be extremely formidable!”
Lady Matlock laughed. “Yes, to be sure they can. You do realize, I hope, that Henry and I will always value and appreciate you, Elizabeth. You have brought such joy to Fitzwilliam. He has known so much sorrow and loneliness since the passing of his dear parents that we cannot help but love you, as well. Whether Catherine comes to accept you or not, we shall strive to protect you from her cruelty.”
Lady Matlock directed her to a small sofa across the room, and Elizabeth said, “I can almost feel sorry for her. She must have suffered cruelly at one time in order to have so very few scruples about making others feel wretched.”
They sat for several minutes until Lady Matlock shook her head and said, “You are an insightful young woman, Elizabeth.” She then gave her a meaningful look and reached for her hands. “I am going to share something with you, something I believe may better help you to understand my sister-in-law. You see, Catherine has suffered a disappointment in her past, and I am afraid it has had a lasting effect on her. Did you know she is the elder sister of Fitzwilliam’s mother, Anne?”
“Yes, I have been given to understand that. She is Lord Matlock’s elder sister, is she not?”
Lady Matlock nodded. “What you will not know, for I doubt very much even my nephew is aware of this, is when Catherine and Anne were hardly more than girls, they were introduced to Sir Lewis de Bourgh, who was considerably older than they. Though he found both sisters to be beautiful, he immediately became enchanted by Anne’s wit and vivacity. He wished to marry her, but Anne did not return his regard. Sir Lewis then applied to her father, but he would not hear of it, as Anne was his particular favorite, not to mention still quite young—especially for a man nearly fifteen years her senior. Sir Lewis vowed to wait for her until she was of a more acceptable age to receive his suit, but was devastated when she became engaged not two years later to George Darcy, who was much younger and utterly devoted to Anne in much the same way her son is devoted to you, my dear. Catherine, also, was discontented with the match, as it was long suspected she was in love with George. After Anne’s marriage, Sir Lewis settled on Catherine instead, though Henry has often wondered whether she accepted him more for his title and connections than for the man himself.
“It was not a happy union, made even less so by the undisguised bliss Anne and George had found together and refused to hide from society. It was obvious Sir Lewis still desired her, though he was no longer quite so open about it, at least not unless he had been drinking. When Fitzwilliam was born, Sir Lewis felt it as a personal blow. Not long afterward, Catherine gave birth to a little girl, and though she protested vehemently, her husband insisted on naming her after Catherine’s sister. It made Catherine bitter, a bitterness that rules over her to this very day.”
Elizabeth raised her hand to her lips, and Lady Matlock continued, “Sir Lewis doted on his daughter as he surely would have doted on her namesake. He had never doted on his wife, and Catherine continued to grow increasingly angry over his inattention whenever they were in company. In the meantime, Anne Darcy had suffered several failed pregnancies, which left her vulnerable to bouts of illness. Finally, when Georgiana was born, Anne’s body was simply too weak to continue to sustain her life. When word of her failing health reached Rosings, Sir Lewis was beside himself and determined to go to her, despite the evident jealousy and displeasure of his wife, who flatly refused to visit her sister. They argued, and he left in the middle of the night for Pemberley. He had not ridden five miles beyond Rosings when he was thrown from his horse. His injuries were fatal.”