One evening after Elizabeth had been present for about a fortnight — during which time Jane had become yet larger, and yet more uncomfortable as she awaited the birth of her new child, Lady Catherine announced to Elizabeth’s enormous surprise that two of her nephews were to visit, along with her granddaughter.
Elizabeth sat straight, feeling a shiver go through her whole body. Surely, she had misheard. “Mr. Darcy is to comehere?”
“He plans to spend Easter at the estate,” Lady Catherine said with satisfaction. “I knew that he would not keep Anne’s child from me forever. And that the happy memory of my connection to his own beloved mother would eventually bring him to return. I think he avoided me because the memory ofAnne’s death — a death that would have been prevented if he had only allowed me to send my physician to oversee Anne during the time she wasenceinte— plagued him with guilt.”
“I had not expected him to visit,” Elizabeth said, feeling discomposed. She schooled herself to show and feel less. He was a friend, a dear friend. But Mr. Darcy had clearly informed her that he looked upon her solely in the nature of a friend, and that he was determined to never flag in his determination to punish himself for not having always valued Anne in every way that he ought — that is to not marry again.
She would smile, nod, and curtsey when she met Darcy again. In every way she would show herself to be happy to see the gentleman, butnoparticular sensibility could be permitted to return.
Lady Catherine was also oddly affected by the promise of her nephew’s visit, as she drank many toasts to Emily and the promise that she would see her soon. One time, instead of referring to Emily as “my granddaughter”, or “my daughter’s child”, as Lady Catherine always did, she called the girl “Anne.”
Though she had noticed nothing of the sort before, this briefly left Elizabeth concerned for the health of the woman’s mind. But then it was not an unusual thing for a person to make such a mistake.
After dinner, when the party returned to the drawing room, Lady Catherine called Elizabeth to sit next to her. It was apparent that she was a little in her cups. The great lady imbibed freely as they spoke from yet another crystal decanter of fine wine. Elizabeth possessed more than a little curiosity as to what face the Lady Catherine would show when top-heavy.
The woman said as soon as Elizabeth was near, “Mr. Darcy never heeded my advice as he ought. He is too independent. Not enough family spirit. Too… and he continues to keep that girl with him. At least he did not ask to let thatwomancome withhim to Rosings. I would not have countenanced his sister, even if, according to all reports, she escaped her disgrace without more than the destruction of her virtue and reputation.”
“Does not,” Elizabeth smiled at the woman, and looked down in a submissive way, “his devotion to his sister and daughter show family spirit? — when he spoke to me, he always talked about the importance of his name, his estate, and his determination to do well by his duties.”
“Darcy matters! Darcy. But he should see himself as a Fitzwilliam first, and beyond all.”
“You can hardly expecthimto see matters in such a way when his last name isDarcy.”
Though Elizabeth feared this reply would make Lady Catherine angry at her for contradicting her too openly, Lady Catherine was wholly engrossed by her own concerns. “I tried to make Anne understand that the Fitzwilliam name was vital. But also, to give her pride in her de Bourgh heritage.”
“Two households both alike in dignity, in fair Kent,” Elizabeth said in a serious tone, calling upon her inner Mr. Collins, “and well represented by such a woman as yourself.”
“That is very kindly said, though there was no family strife in the joining, as you perhaps imply,” Lady Catherine said. She swallowed her wine back, and had another glass poured for herself. The woman was slightly shaky. “Mr. Darcy and my Anne. We planned their marriage while they were in their cradles. Anne and I did.”
“She already wished to marry Darcy while still in leading strings,” Elizabeth said, unable to keep the surprise from her voice.
Lady Catherine stared at Elizabeth for a full minute, in a sort of bleary confusion. Then at last she barked a laugh. “No, you dullard. My sister, Darcy’s mother. When both Anne and he had been born, we agreed that they would marry… I namedmy child after her. Anne had wished to name Georgiana after me, Catherine, but after my family had been honoured by giving Darcy the name Fitzwilliam for our family, they decided to name the girl after her father, since they did not expect another child. It always made me sad, until her fall from grace. Now I know that God had protected the good name of Catherine from suffering the burden of such a person.”
“One of my sisters is named Catherine,” Elizabeth said in reply to that. “I hope you do not mind.”
“What is her character? I’ve heard nothing bad of any of you.”
Not from Mr. Collins, I would not imagine that you would have.
“A little silly,” Elizabeth replied, “as the very young often are. But tolerably biddable and not prone to behave wildly.”Unlike Lydia.
“I have never understood why your mother allowed all five of you girls into society. A girl out, when she has three or four older sisters unmarried? — it is not so bad now that Mr. Collins has married Mrs. Collins, and I understand that you are no longer generally resident. You serve as the governess for your little cousins?”
“Not exactly, but I do assist in their education.”
“Good, good. One placed in a dependent position should always strive to be industrious and useful. But do not spare those children out of affection. In my experience, it is often the parents who indulge their children by far the worst due to misplaced affection. Let a child be reared by total strangers, that is my motto.”
“Was Anne — that is Mrs. Darcy — was she raised in such a way?”
Lady Catherine made a doleful sigh. “Her health would not permit it. I had to keep her close by me. She nearly died from afever when she was not yet a year old, and afterwards we took such good care of her. But she never flourished.”
“Mr. Darcy always spoke highly of her character.”
“Did he?” Lady Catherine exclaimed. “Did he! — when it is wholly his fault that she died.”
Elizabeth did not think it politic to mention that death in childbirth was common, no matter what the husband did. It was also not a comfortable thought for her, seeing how Jane sat speaking to Mary and Mr. Collins, ready to burst from her own child.
“It is not Darcy who angers me. He has the Fitzwilliam spirit along with his Darcy pride. He would have been a worthy son! — oh if only I had him as a son, and not Anne. Then I would be wholly happy. And he spoke highly of her? Lies. I am sure—” Lady Catherine greedily swallowed more of her wine. “I am sure.” She coughed hard, it seemed the swallow had gone slightly amiss. “I am sure that she disappointed him as much as she always disappointed me.”
