At least I have managed to make tea humorous,Elizabeth thought somewhat bitterly.Though, why I am forced to defend myself without aid from anyone else is beyond my comprehension.
“Enough, Aunt!” Darcy said loudly, cutting off the tirade Elizabeth had missed amidst her musings. “Elizabeth and I are engaged, and your incessant complaining will do nothing to deter me from marrying her. He stepped forward and stood next to her. “I have never been engaged to Anne. The cradle betrothal is a product of your imagination. Elizabeth may have relations enough to cause embarrassment, she may have no dowry and no connections, but she has one thing no other lady possesses.”
He turned to her and took her hand, lifting it to his lips. “She has my heart,” he said quietly. His gaze bore into her, and her breath hitched. “And I am sorry I was not here to defend her when you began your tirade. Elizabeth, forgive me.”
“Defend her! How ridiculous. Come to your senses, nephew. She will not be recognized by anyone of quality!” Lady Catherine declared. “Lady Matlock is not alive to sponsor her, though I doubt she would if she were.Icertainly shall not.”
“As if you could present the new Mrs. Darcy to anyone worth knowing.” Lady de Bourgh spoke, her derision obvious in her words. “When was the last time you were in town, Catherine? If I recall, it was soon after you married Lewis.”
Lady Catherine colored. “I have plenty of acquaintances in town,” she insisted. “Lady Crawley—”
“Dead. She passed on to her reward last year. Did you not know?”
“Lady Jennings—”
Lady de Bourgh interrupted again. “Consigned to the dower house after her son married. I believe she is rotting in Nottinghamshire.”
“Lady Louisa, Lady Maria, Lady Moreland!”
“Dead, dower house, and ailing. None of them dwell in town. Goodness, were all your acquaintances such sickly or disagreeable creatures?” Lady de Bourgh tut-tutted. “Really, Catherine. No, I had better sponsor Miss Bennet. I live in town most of the year and can introduce her to therightpeople.”
“Ofcourseyou would do it! You are as lowborn as she, no matter how you parade about, putting on airs as if you were born to nobility!” Lady Catherine looked wild, and Elizabeth wondered if she would have an apoplexy.
“I will not listen to this a moment longer.” Mr. Darcy released Elizabeth’s hand and turned toward the door. Her hand tingled where he had touched it. “Come, Elizabeth.”
She blinked, irritated that he commanded her when he had no right. She glanced at Jane, who nodded, encouraging her to go. Mr. Darcy stormed out of the room, and she followed, wondering what she would do now.
“Do not let my aunt’s vitriol trouble you,” he said when they were outside the parlor. He offered her his arm and they walked toward the front doors.
“It seems we both have relations who do not behave as they ought,” she quipped.
He looked at her sharply. “My aunt’s reservations are understandable,” he countered. “Her manner of delivery leaves something to be desired, however.”
“Then perhaps it would be best if you followed her edicts, since you are so aligned in opinion.” She said it harshly, her day of ruminations forgotten in her pique.
“The only thing that matters is that I love you.”
His response confirmed her words. How readily he confirmed his alignment with his aunt’s views. How easily he asked her to not give the lady’s vitriol any mind while simultaneously defending the harpy. It was utterly ridiculous.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he led her away from the manor
“We can walk the garden while we wait for the rest of your party. Lady Catherine will calm herself if we are no longer in the room.”
She did not reply. He led her around, pointing out plants that began as cuttings from Pemberley’s gardens. “These roses were cultivated at Pemberley. They’re called Derbyshire Darlings. Mother crossed an orange rose with a pink one to give it the unique pattern and coloring. Lady Catherine often attempted to replicate my mother’s choices in flora and fauna. My mother’s taste is so different, though. Her gardens were arranged in a more natural manner than these.”
“Did Lady Catherine ever reside at Briar Court?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. The estate attached to the baronetcy is smaller, about the size of Netherfield Park, if I recall. My aunt did not deem it fine enough for her status.”
“I can well imagine it,” she murmured. Netherfield Park was larger than Longbourn by quite a bit. While not a massive estate, it was respectable, bringing in four thousand a year. The daughter of an earl would be ashamed to live in such a ‘hovel.’ “How dismayed your aunt would be to see Longbourn.”
“Yes, she would be.”
He had not understood the sarcasm in her voice. She fell silent again.
After a few minutes, she spoke. “Will you escort me back to the parsonage? I feel another headache beginning.”
“Of course. After your megrim yesterday, I would not wish to overtire you.” He escorted her thither and Elizabeth sat in the sitting room, waiting for the others’ return.
