As to my mother, she is dead and her memory, such as it was by the end, buried with her.Mymemory of her is perfectly intact and wholly unsullied; thus, your concern is without foundation.
Yours,
Darcy
Tuesday 23 June 1812, London
Darcy exchanged one last private smile with Elizabeth and left the shop, surrendering her and his sister to the safekeeping of his most reliable footman and the redoubtable modiste. His happiness as his carriage set off across London verged on the preposterous.
Both he and Elizabeth were relieved to be away from the cloying and intrusive society in Meryton, and they had enjoyed more private conversation on their journey here yesterday than in the nearly two weeks since they became engaged.
It had been agreed between the ladies that Elizabeth would stay with Georgiana, and he had delivered her there with the greatest of trepidation, for never had he been more anxious for two people to get along. He need not have concerned himself. Though his sister had been shy and Elizabeth reservedly polite at first, by the end of dinner they had seemed to be far more at ease, and when he returned to collect them this morning, both had been in observably fine humour.
The unparalleled pleasure of showing Elizabeth around Darcy House and her unaffected delight in it had been greater even than he had hoped. Her admission of impatience for it to be her home pleased him so well that not even the audience to which he now travelled could dampen his spirits.
Upon arriving at Matlock House, he was announced into the drawing room where sat his uncle and Mrs Sinclair, in pointed silence at opposing ends of the room. He gave a single bow to the space between them and wished them both good day.
Matlock grunted. “Good of you to call, Darcy. I began to think you would not bother.”
“Pardon me. I have been rather busy of late.”
“So I have heard.”
Darcy did not doubt it. He had written to his uncle with his news, of course, but with fewer details than Lady Catherine was sure to have provided. He crossed the room and took the nearest seat to hisuncle. Mrs Sinclair materialised in the adjacent one and sat regarding him with an expectant expression so presumptuous it was diverting.
Matlock hauled himself upright in his chair. “Now you are here, you can do me the honour of explaining what the devil has transpired between you and your aunt this time, for I could make neither head nor tail of her most recent letter.”
Darcy duly summarised Lady Catherine’s letter to Elizabeth.
Matlock sucked in his breath. “That was impolitic.”
Darcy answered the gross understatement with a slight inclination of his head.
“For a woman who hardly ever leaves Kent, your sister manages to afford the rest of the world an inordinate amount of bother,” Mrs Sinclair said to Matlock, who ignored her entirely.
“How have you responded?”
“I have withdrawn all pecuniary support.”
His uncle looked truly shocked. “I had no idea you were subsidising the estate. What effect will your withdrawal have?”
“My assistance has merely eased her present solvency. She will require a much larger investment to prevent its eventual dissolution.”
“Such she had deluded herself into thinking you would provide, of course,” Mrs Sinclair said.
Matlock puffed out his cheeks and rubbed his eyebrow with his forefinger. “She would push the matter, the stubborn harpy. Now this is a fine mess.”
“It need not be,” Darcy pointed out. “She need only apologise for her threats and accept my choice, and all will be resolved.”
“Only!” Matlock scoffed. “You ask much of her, Darcy.”
“Aye,” agreed Mrs Sinclair. “You cannot expect her holyship to bless the union that will impoverish her.”
“You are mistaken, madam,” Matlock said. “Catherine is many things, but she is not mercenary. She is concerned for Anne. Right or wrong, from an early age the girl has been allowed to believe she is intended for Darcy.”
“Upon my word!” Mrs Sinclair exclaimed. “At an early age,Ibelieved my father was heir to the throne, and my lap dog was a unicorn. There comes a point in most people’s lives when one learns to discern fact from invention.”
Matlock gave an exasperated huff. “And she is worried about thefamily’s reputation.” To Darcy, he added, “She is convinced this marriage will be your greatest ever mistake.”
