The front door burst open to admit a whirlwind of silk, feathers, and imperious authority that could only be Lady Catherine. Sheswept into the modest drawing room as though taking possession of a conquered territory.
“Well,” she announced to the room at large, her voice carrying the authority of one accustomed to immediate obedience, “this will never do.”
Mrs. Bennet, who had been vibrating with nervous energy since dawn, froze like a rabbit caught in a snare. “Your ladyship, we are honored by your presence. If there is anything that does not meet your standards?—”
“My dear Mrs. Bennet,” Lady Catherine interrupted with the sort of smile that promised nothing good, “it is not a matter of standards. It is a matter of appropriateness. My nephew’s wedding breakfast cannot possibly be held in such…” she gestured vaguely at the cheerful disorder of the Bennet drawing room, “…rustic circumstances.”
Darcy’s muscles flexed beside her, his protective instincts aroused by any slight to her family. She placed a warning hand on his arm, curious to see how this drama would unfold.
Lady Matlock followed her sister-in-law’s dramatic entrance with considerably more grace, offering Mrs. Bennet a gracious smile. “How lovely your home looks, Mrs. Bennet. You’ve clearly put enormous thought into the arrangements.”
“Thank you, your ladyship,” Mrs. Bennet replied, though her eyes remained fixed on Lady Catherine with the wariness of a doe scenting wolves.
“Which is precisely why,” Lady Catherine continued as though she had not been interrupted, “I have taken the liberty of arranging a proper celebration at Netherfield Park. My family leased the property after the unfortunate Bingley affair, and I have spent the time ensuring that everything is prepared to appropriate standards.”
The silence that followed this pronouncement was deafening. Elizabeth could practically hear her mother’s heart breaking as twenty years of neighborhood hostess pride crumbled before the forceof Lady Catherine’s certainty.
“With all due respect, your ladyship,” Mrs. Bennet said, “this is my daughter’s wedding breakfast. I have been planning this celebration for weeks.”
“Your daughter,” Lady Catherine replied with devastating precision, “was a Darcy by birth. And Darcys celebrate appropriately.”
Elizabeth watched the color drain from her mother’s face and felt a familiar fire kindle in her chest. Before she could speak, however, the drawing room door opened to admit the neighborhood worthies who comprised Hertfordshire society. Sir William Lucas entered with his usual diplomatic bearing, followed by Lady Lucas and their daughters, her aunt and uncle Philips, the Gouldings, the Longs, the Granthams, the Kings, and various other families who had watched Elizabeth Bennet grow from impertinent child to infamous heiress to, finally, improbable bride of the proudest man in Derbyshire.
“Lady Catherine!” Sir William exclaimed with the sort of forced cheerfulness that suggested he had heard raised voices from the corridor. “What an unexpected pleasure! Though I confess some confusion—we had understood the celebration was to be here at Longbourn?”
Lady Catherine drew herself up to her full, considerable height. “The celebration has been moved to more appropriate surroundings. Netherfield Park awaits your attendance.”
Mrs. Bennet made a small, wounded sound that cut straight through Elizabeth’s heart. To watch her mother—who had indeed spent weeks preparing this moment, who had fretted over every detail and dreamed of displaying her daughter’s triumph to the neighborhood—be dismissed so casually was more than she could bear.
But before Elizabeth could deliver the set-down Lady Catherine so richly deserved, an unexpected voice entered the fray.
“How fascinating,” Anne de Bourgh observed from her position near the window, her usually pale complexion showing the faintest hint of color. “I had not realized we were attending a battle rather than a wedding breakfast.”
Every eye turned to the invalid heiress, who so rarely spoke that her words carried unusual weight.
“Anne!” Lady Catherine snapped. “Do not be impertinent.”
“I am being observant, Mama,” Anne replied with the sort of quiet steel that reminded everyone present that she was, after all, Lady Catherine’s daughter. “Two families are fighting over who has the greater claim to celebrate Mrs. Darcy. How very… primitive.”
Elizabeth felt Darcy’s lips twitch against her ear as he murmured, “I believe my cousin has just declared war on my aunt.”
“My dear Lizzy,” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, rushing forward to seize Elizabeth’s hands. “Tell Lady Catherine that your wedding breakfast has been planned these three weeks past and cannot possibly be relocated to Netherfield at this late hour!”
“Mrs. Bennet,” Lady Catherine intoned with magnificent disdain, “a Darcy wedding breakfast requires certain standards that this… charming cottage simply cannot accommodate. My nephew’s position demands appropriate surroundings.”
“This ‘charming cottage’ has been Elizabeth’s home for twenty years,” Mrs. Bennet retorted with surprising spirit, “and I have invited every family of consequence in the neighborhood to celebrate here.”
Elizabeth caught Charlotte’s eye across the room and noted her friend’s barely concealed amusement. Sir William Lucas stood nearby, clearly torn between loyalty to his old neighbors and fascination with the aristocratic visitors.
“Perhaps,” Mr. Bennet suggested from his armchair, where he observed the proceedings with undisguised enjoyment, “we should allow the bride herself to settle this matter, as it is, after all, her celebration.”
All eyes turned expectantly to Elizabeth.
“How extraordinary,” she said, her voice carrying clearly through the room and causing all argument to cease. “I find myself in the unusual position of being claimed by two familieswith equal fervor. While some might find this distressing, I can only feel fortunate to be so thoroughly wanted.”
Lady Catherine harumphed, but Elizabeth detected a slight softening in her formidable countenance.
“It occurs to me that both Longbourn and Netherfield offer unique advantages for our celebration,” she continued diplomatically. “Longbourn, with its intimate setting and sentimental significance, provides the perfect beginning to our wedding day. While Netherfield, with its spacious gardens and grand rooms, offers an ideal setting for the larger gathering to follow.”
