“It makes sense,” said Bingley.
“It does,” conceded Darcy. “But I wonder if you comprehend what you are taking on. Do you truly wish to endure Lady Catherine as a mother-in-law?”
Lady Catherine snorted loudly, sending them all into quiet laughter. “It appears even Lady Catherine agrees with you!” cried Bingley.
“Aye, she does at that,” replied Fitzwilliam. “In answer to your question, Darcy, I can endure Lady Catherine as a mother-in-law. To own the truth, I think I am more capable of it thanyou, simply because you are far more patient than I am. You would endure her; I will tell her to be silent and sit in the corner like a naughty child.”
“That is an amusing image, indeed!” Bingley again exclaimed.
“Thank you, old man,” said Fitzwilliam. “I do try.”
Argument, it appeared, was less than fruitless in the present circumstance. Fitzwilliam appeared determined, and it made some sense. Darcy also had some notion that the earl would approve of his son’s scheme, and the countess would endorse it with enthusiasm, as it would see her younger son resign from the army and take up the life of a gentleman. As she had often fretted for his safety, she would think it the perfect solution.
“You will likely need to involve your father,” said Darcy. “Lady Catherine will not take well to you or I directing her in this.”
“Then that is what we shall do.” Fitzwilliam shrugged. “To own the truth, Mother has commented on the possibility several times, and Father has not opposed the notion. I will not force Anne to the altar—I merely suggest this as a solution should word of her escapade reach the ears of society.”
Darcy nodded and allowed the matter to rest.
Elizabeth had never known Mrs. Bennet to be a mothering sort of woman. Her nerves too often interfered with any mothering instinct she might have had, and her youngest was a girl who wished to appear mature beyond her years, and thus did not welcome any such attention. Elizabeth did not recall many instances of a mothering instinct in the woman from herchildhood, for more often the maids or Mrs. Hill soothed bruised shins or scraped knees than her mother.
It was thus something of a shock when Mrs. Bennet mothered Anne excessively from the moment the Bennet sisters descended the stairs after becoming acquainted. She asked after Anne’s comfort, plied her with cakes and tea, fussed over her, and questioned the girls minutely about what they would offer her to wear for the next few days, or her bedclothes for that evening. Elizabeth was not the only sister to witness this, for her sisters were dumbfounded by the changes that had come over her.
“I am quite comfortable, Mrs. Bennet,” answered Anne after Mrs. Bennet asked if she required more cushions behind her back for perhaps the fourth time. “Your house is lovely, and nothing is wanting.”
“That is well,” said Mrs. Bennet dubiously. “Longbourn cannot boast the appointments of your home in Kent, but it is a cozy house, and we are proud of it.”
“As you have a right to be,” said Anne warmly.
Mrs. Bennet beamed and began nattering about some other matter she deemed important. Ignoring her, Elizabeth watched Anne trying to puzzle her out. Certain events at Rosings Park along with comments she had made since arriving at Longbourn proved Anne possessed a haughty streak that would make her mother proud. None of that was on display, however, though Anne seemed to enjoy Mrs. Bennet’s attention, even as she protested her comfort. As Lady Catherine was not a mothering sort herself—except perhaps in the fashion a dragon lorded over her whelps—perhaps Anne was enjoying the novel experience of having an older woman behave as a mother toward her. The more she thought of it, the more the notion made sense. That did not mean all was calm and pleasant between the ladies; Elizabeth could have predicted the author of the discord had she given the matter any thought.
Lydia, though she had been outwardly pleasant to Anne, had watched her carefully, as if looking for some sort of blemish she could exploit. That she waited until Mrs. Bennet left the room on some errand or another was not lost on anyone who remained. The subject of her comments was no less than laughable, though only one who was as self-blind as Lydia could have missed the obvious.
“How can you account for your actions, Miss de Bourgh?”
Anne looked at Lydia curiously, not understanding her question. “If you will pardon me, Miss Lydia, I have no notion of what you mean. Perhaps you should clarify.”
Lydia huffed with annoyance. “Why, this business with Mr. Wickham, of course. What possessed you to run off with him?”
There was a long delay before Anne responded, her attention fixed on Lydia as if trying to puzzle her out. “My reasons I shall keep to myself,” said Anne at length, much to Lydia’s dissatisfaction. “Have you not felt the effects of his persuasion?”
“Mr. Wickham is most decidedly a bounder, Miss de Bourgh,” said Lydia with a haughty sniff that might have done Lady Catherine proud. “I knew for many months that he is not to be trusted. Why, he fixed his attention on a young lady of the neighborhood not long after she inherited ten thousand pounds!”
“Yes, I heard mention of this,” said Anne, glancing at Elizabeth. Had Elizabeth not been glaring holes in her youngest sister, she might have smiled. “Yet I have not had the benefit of observing Mr. Wickham.”
“Then you should have been even more on your guard,” said Lydia.
“I cannot but own that you are correct,” said Anne pleasantly. “Please answer this question, Miss Lydia: if Mr. Wickham turned his charm on you, wouldyouhave resisted him?”
“Of course!” sniffed Lydia. “It was clear to anyone with eyes tosee that he is not a good man.”
The snort of contempt came from the one sister Elizabeth would not have thought willing to go against Lydia. “That is rich, coming from you, Lydia,” jibed Kitty. “For did you not flutter your eyelashes at Wickham at his mere appearance today? Were you not willing to tell him anything if only he would direct his winsome smile at you?”
“Thereisthe matter of your information to the gentleman about where we had gone, Lydia,” said Elizabeth, fixing her sister with a pointed glare.
“Now, let us not be hasty,” said Anne, again appearing little affected by Lydia’s rudeness. “Mr. Wickham might have learned of my location from others had he investigated. Miss Lydia could not imagine the situation and did not need to withhold the information from Mr. Wickham.”
“On the contrary,” said Kitty, still glaring at her sister, who returned it tenfold, “I knew something was amiss and counseled Lydia to not inform Mr. Wickham. That Lizzy and Jane were escorting you away was enough to inform me that not all was as it should be. Lydia should have known that as well as I did.”
