The accusation was so outrageous that Elizabeth nearly laughed. Only the genuine gravity of Lady Catherine’s expression prevented this improper response.
“I assure you, Lady Catherine, I have no designs on Mr. Darcy’s fortune.”
“So claim all young women with ambitions above their station,” Lady Catherine replied with a cutting tone. “You would not be the first to mistake delirium for declaration.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“There was a Miss Helena Mortimer, daughter of a minor baronet, who once fancied herself the object of my nephew’s affections,” Lady Catherine said, her tone conversational yet edged with warning. “She misinterpreted common courtesy as particular regard. When her schemes failed to secure a proposal,she hid herself in his carriage, hoping to be discovered and thus compromised into marriage.”
Elizabeth could not suppress her astonishment. “What happened?”
“My nephew’s driver and footmen removed her from the vehicle and deposited her in front of a coaching inn,” Lady Catherine replied with grim satisfaction. “Her disgrace was complete. Her family removed to Bath, where I understand she eventually married a clergyman twice her age.”
The tale was meant to intimidate and suggest Elizabeth’s ambitions might meet a similar fate.
“A most illuminating anecdote, Lady Catherine. Though I fail to see its relevance to my nursing Mr. Darcy through a life-threatening fever.”
“Its relevance, Miss Bennet, is that my nephew is unavailable for pursuit, regardless of any imagined encouragement. He is engaged to my daughter, Anne.”
“Engaged?” Elizabeth could not conceal her surprise. “I was not aware of any formal engagement.”
“It has been arranged since their infancy,” Lady Catherine declared. “A union planned by his mother and me, designed to join our estates and preserve the purity of our lineage.”
Elizabeth absorbed this information with a peculiar hollowness in her chest. An arranged marriage, planned since infancy. This explained Darcy’s refusal to dance with young ladies at the assembly but not his proposal at Hunsford.
“You may observe that my nephew shows no particular interest in eligible young ladies of his acquaintance,” Lady Catherine continued. “Even Miss Bingley, sister to his closest friend, has received nothing beyond the most basic courtesy required by their connection. This is because his future is already determined.”
Elizabeth was at a loss for words. While demeaning to her family, Darcy’s proposal at Hunsford had never referred to more advantageous connections he might have eschewed.
Taking her silence as victory, Lady Catherine reached into her reticule and withdrew a small packet. “For your services at Netherfield. Five pounds. A generous sum for a few days’ attendance.”
Elizabeth stared at the offered payment. “I was not a hired nurse, Lady Catherine. I attended Mr. Darcy out of duty and compassion, not for financial gain.”
“Nevertheless, you will take it,” Lady Catherine insisted. “I do not leave debts unsettled.”
When Elizabeth made no move to accept the money, Lady Catherine tossed it onto the bench between them. The packet landed with a soft thud, the paper coming loose to reveal several coins.
“Your pride does you no credit, Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine observed coldly. “Particularly given your family’s circumstances.”
Elizabeth stood. “The conversation is over. I thank you for coming.”
Lady Catherine’s gloved hand shot out, taking Elizabeth’s arm. “Perhaps, I was too harsh, Miss Bennet.”
Elizabeth stared at Lady Catherine’s hand on her wrist until the older woman withdrew, pasting on an insincere smile.
“Come now, Miss Bennet.” Her tone softened. “I understand your predicament. Perhaps I can be of assistance.”
Her change of demeanor shocked Elizabeth. “Please, Lady Catherine. Do not trouble yourself on my behalf.”
“I do so not for you, but for my nephew.” Lady Catherine’s reptilian eyes remained unblinking. “Wickham’s false accusations. The duel. Your continued involvement in thescandal will hurt Darcy’s reputation among his peers. However, you are not without options, you know.”
Elizabeth regarded her warily. “I don’t mean to harm Darcy’s reputation. I can be discreet.”
“Yes, and perhaps we can work out a situation for you.” Lady Catherine reached into her reticule and withdrew more pound notes, adding them to the amount on the bench. “Many respectable men would overlook certain… indiscretions… in a wife, particularly when accompanied by even a modest dowry.”
“I cannot take your money.”
“Considered it earned by your discretion. No word of Darcy’s delusional claims must ever be repeated. My nephew, for all his honor, has already suffered a stain. If you acknowledge that you had never been compromised—neither in the sickroom nor at Hunsford parsonage—you can recover your dignity and station in life.”
