Elizabeth turned to him, noting his mischievous grin, and could not help but respond. “Oh, to be certain, for we shall be at Netherfield, then in London for the season.”
“You well know I speak of no such thing,” growled he.
With a grin, Elizabeth touched his face with affection. “It is fortunate that I am no more interested in adhering to custom than you are, beloved future husband. Shall we turn these chambers into something else?”
“Perhaps a nursery when our children are small,” agreed William. “Then they will be close to hand.”
“I am certain Lady Catherine would burn us at the stake for heresy.”
William smirked. “To own the truth, I am shocked her husband got Lady Catherine with child and did not die of frostbite.”
“As you do not know the circumstances of his demise, I am uncertain it is an inaccurate assessment.”
They laughed together, drawing another glare from Lady Catherine, but nothing they said would compare to her ire if she knew the gist of their irreverent banter. Soon they departed from the family wing and returned below stairs to the sitting-room for refreshments, Elizabeth chatting with Georgiana and Kitty about the house and their anticipation for the future. It was not until they were situated with cups of tea and cakes that the thunder crashed and the storm broke with the ferocity of a tempest.
“Do you approve of your future home, my love?” asked William the moment they were seated.
“Unless you suppose I am Queen Charlotte’s daughter,” jested Elizabeth, “I cannot imagine you suspect me of disapproval. Pemberley is everything lovely, William. It is still a shock that you have inherited such a grand estate, but I cannot imagine anyone rejecting such an excellent place.”
Lady Catherine sniffed her disdain. “Pemberleyisa grand estate, but it could be so much better. The gardens are insufficient for a house of its size, but my brother never saw the need to expand them. Now, if you visited Rosings Park, you would see grounds created for the delight of all who see them.
“As for the house, the décor could be much finer. My sister possessed simple tastes, and though she matched her husband in that respect, it could be so much better.”
“That is interesting, Aunt,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam, shaking his head in disdain, “for did you not take Georgiana to task not thirty minutes ago for the mere suggestion that Lady Anne’s taste was at all deficient?”
“Georgiana is nothing more than a slip of a girl,” sniffed Lady Catherine. “I am conversant with such things as décor and possess excellent taste. Rosings is the jewel of Kent, for all agree that I have done wonders with the place.”
The way Colonel Fitzwilliam shook his head, Elizabeth suspected that Lady Catherine preferred a gaudier style, one that would make Pemberley into a showpiece rather than the fine and loved home it was.
“Pemberley is beautiful as it is,” said Elizabeth. “My taste matches Lady Anne’s taste well. It needs few changes.”
“I must agree, Elizabeth,” said Mrs. Darcy. “As the place is to be your home, I suggest you consult your own feelings when considering changes and not allow anyone else to sway you.”
That appeared to push Lady Catherine over the edge into madness.
“Perhaps you should be silent when speaking about matters of which you know nothing!”
“I know enough to have managed my husband’s and then my son’s estate for many years.”
“A mere hovel,” said Lady Catherine, her voice oozing disdain. “The concerns of Pemberley, Rosings Park, and others of superior quality are so far beyond your insignificant home as to be laughable.”
The lady turned to William. “There, do you see? This girl will ruin you in society—you will never hold your head up with pride, and it will affect the rest of the family. It is time to end this nonsense and send her on her way.”
“I shall do no such thing,” growled William. “One more word and I will see you from Pemberley forever!”
“This is not to be born!” exclaimed Lady Catherine. “My daughter will make you an appropriate wife, not some hussy from the country. You must see sense.”
“Lady Catherine!” barked Colonel Fitzwilliam. “You have now gone beyond all decency. I join Darcy in demanding you depart at once!”
How the argument might have proceeded, Elizabeth could not say, for in that moment an interruption arrived in the person of a man who stepped in through the door. He was tall and erect, his bearing aristocratic, perhaps fifty to sixty years of age. The man bore a striking resemblance to Colonel Fitzwilliam, though his short hair was speckled with gray, with more at the temples. For all Elizabeth suspected he was a genial man, his face as he regarded Lady Catherine was anything but amiable, for it was apparent at once that he was not amused.
“Catherine!” barked he. “What are you doing?”
“Jacob!” exclaimed the lady, showing consternation for the first time. “It is well that you have come, for you can talk some sense into Darcy!”
The man was not taken in by her insistence. “Of all the ridiculous things you have done, this is beyond the pale, Catherine! What possessed you to push your cradle arrangement myth on the new master of the estate?”
Lady Catherine drew herself up to her full height, undaunted by this man’s assault. “It is no delusion, for my sister and I agreed upon it.”
