At least she would not have to suffer Miss de Bourgh’s insolence all evening. Though, a few trifling barbs seemed a price worth paying for a stimulating debate or two. The dinner promised to be a good deal less interesting now.
Elizabeth puffed out her cheeks, resigned to it—or as close to resigned as such fresh disappointment would allow. It was never expected that he would stay in Hertfordshire forever. She did, however, wish that she had said a proper goodbye the night before, instead of staring at him in such a stupid manner.
It mattered to her, she realised with a start, that his impression of her should be favourable. It had, perhaps, always mattered, for even at the beginning of their acquaintance when she had taken pains to debate most of what he said, it had gratified her to think that he should consider her clever.Gormlesswas most definitely not the look with which she would have chosen to fix herself in his memory.
* * *
Darcy awoke stiff and unrefreshed after too little sleep on a too-soft mattress. He detested staying at Rosings. Every item of furniture was either too old or too ostentatious for comfort, and the rooms were all either perishingly cold or perpetually sweltering. Of course, too many hours in the saddle had not helped, but that had been preferable to sitting in the carriage. Travelling with Mrs Jenkinson was about as interesting as travelling with a potato, and Anne had exhausted his every reserve of forbearance before they left Hertfordshire.
With Lady Catherine still away, they had arrived to an empty house. Eschewing any pleasantries, the ladies had removed directly upstairs, where they remained with dinner taken to them on trays. Darcy had done the same, more for the servants’ sake than his own, but sleep eluded him long after he blew out his candle and capitulated to the incommodious bed.
Anne was obviously angry, though she could be in no doubt she was not alone inthat. Their few words after dinner on Boxing Day had not been friendly, and they had said the absolute minimum to each other on the journey to Rosings. Darcy had not yet decided how many words he would spare her before he departed, though he could not avoid speaking to her at least a little, if only to ensure she comprehended that she must leave Elizabeth alone henceforth. He would not countenance a repeat of her behaviour at Netherfield, which had left him no less incensed than ashamed. For all his reservations about the Bennets, his own relation had betrayed a greater want of propriety, a shallower disposition, and a streak of malice that not one of them possessed. With what absurd prepossession had he held Elizabeth’s family in such contempt?
Anne was not in the breakfast room when he arrived downstairs. Neither did she appear in the morning room afterwards. His temper simmered as the clock ticked towards midday. He was on the verge of sending a note, requesting that she bestir herself to come and speak to him, when the door opened, and Lady Catherine swept into the room.
“Darcy! Itisyou! Pratt said you were here, but I thought he must be mistaken. Whatever are you doing in Kent? Where is Anne?”
He stood to greet her, his expression carefully neutral as he bowed. This had not been part of his plan. “Anne is?—”
“Here, Mother,” said she, coming into the room behind Lady Catherine and sending Darcy an expressive look, though what she meant to express was beyond him. “We returned early. I wished to be home. I am glad I did now that you are returned also.”
“Why did you wish to come home? Was your Christmas not enjoyable? Darcy, what happened in town that made Anne wish to leave so soon?”
“Nothing happened in town, Mother,” Anne answered for him. “I only wished to be at home. How fares Mrs Fortescue?”
Darcy winced. He would have thought that after almost thirty years, Anne would have learnt such methods did not work on Lady Catherine.
His aunt’s eyes narrowed, and she swivelled her head to peer penetratingly at her daughter. “Mrs Fortescue is dead. Thus, you will comprehend that I am in no humour to be put off with prevarication. Tell me this instant why you left London earlier than planned. Are you unwell?”
“We were not in London, madam,” Darcy told her. Anne rolled her eyes and flounced dramatically in her chair. He ignored her. There was no avoiding the matter now. Better to get it over with. “We were in Hertfordshire.”
“Hertfordshire? Why?” Her ladyship whipped her gaze back and forth between them, her generous girth adding momentum to the movement. She came to a quivering halt in front of Darcy. “Whatever made you go there? Have you taken leave of your senses, Nephew? You must know Anne is too frail to travel that far. What were you thinking?”
Darcy was unused to being spoken to in such a way, even by Lady Catherine, but he made an effort to swallow his affront. Anne was her daughter, after all, and she had a right to be concerned for her. His forbearance faltered when her ladyship sucked in an almighty breath and redoubled her attack.
“Clearly you werenotthinking. This is not to be borne. I thought you intelligent! Or is it that you merely care so little for my daughter’s well-being? Tell mewhat is so important in Hertfordshire that you would risk your cousin’s life on poor roads and in icy weather to take her there?”
“I did not take her there,” he said stiffly. “I went there to bring her home.”
Darcy felt the enmity in Anne’s glare and guessed she meant to punish him for divulging as much, as though she had not given him enough trouble already!
“What is your meaning?” demanded Lady Catherine. She did not give him time to answer. “What is his meaning, Anne? When did you go to Hertfordshire? And why have you lied to me about your plans? Tell me at once!”
“I went last week with Mr Collins. I did not tell you because I did not wish to obtrude on your time with Mrs Fortescue. And you will be grateful that I took the trouble when I tell you that my purpose was to prevent Darcy from marrying your parson’s cousin.”
Darcy ground his teeth. He had not doubted she would expose him, so he knew not why he was surprised she had presented it in as poor a light as possible.
Lady Catherine’s countenance flooded crimson, and she fixed her hawkish eyes on him. “Pray, tell me my daughter is mistaken.”
“I credit my cousin with knowing her own mind. If Anne claims that was her purpose, I shall not say she is wrong.”
“Do not be clever. Tell me Anne was mistaken to suspect youwouldmarry one of Mr Collins’s cousins.”
“I cannot answer that without knowing her reasons for thinking that I might.” It was not an approach that held much promise of success, but Darcy would be damned if he was going to account for his decisions to his aunt. He wondered that she or his cousin thought it their right to influence him on the matter. He was painfully aware of the duty he had to his family, and he begrudged them thinking they had need to remind him.
“Come, then!” Lady Catherine demanded of her daughter. “What made you think he was marrying one of the Bennet girls?”
It was Anne’s turn to blush. She lost some of her boldness and developed a sudden interest in the trim of a nearby cushion as she mumbled something unintelligible.
