Elizabeth stared at her, shocked by the venom in her tone. "Cassandra, that is absurd."
"Is it? Then explain to me why Mr Darcy looked at you with such warmth while he could barely remember my name. Explain why he chose to marry you instead of honouring the courtship we had been conducting."
“I understand you are hurt and angry, but—"
"Hurt? Angry? You have ruined everything, Elizabeth. Everything. Mr Darcy was supposed to be mine. I erred by turning my attentions to Mr Harrington, believing I could secure him instead. Do you know what I learned yesterday? He has just become engaged to another lady. Miss Dorothy Windham, a woman with half my breeding and a quarter of my fortune."
She drew a shuddering breath, her composure fracturing further. "This is the second time a gentleman has chosen to marry a woman I consider far beneath me. First Mr Darcy marries you, and now Mr Harrington chooses Miss Windham.What am I to think except that you have somehow poisoned my prospects?"
"I have done no such thing," Elizabeth replied firmly, although she felt a stab of sympathy despite Cassandra's accusations. "Your difficulties with Mr Harrington have nothing to do with me. And as I’ve said before, the marriage between Mr Darcy and me was not planned or desired by either of us. We were forced into it by obligation and the fear of scandal."
"How convenient for you that the obligation resulted in one of the finest matches in England." Cassandra's lip curled. "I am certain you shall find a way to bear such hardship."
"Cassandra—"
"No." She stepped back, her expression hardening into something cold and distant. "I came to congratulate you, as duty demanded. I have done so. But do not expect friendship from me, Elizabeth Bennet—or should I say, Mrs Darcy. You will find that I am not so easily cast aside. You will pay for your scheming. That is a promise."
Cassandra turned and swept back into the drawing room, leaving Elizabeth standing alone in the entrance hall with her heart pounding and her thoughts in turmoil.
She had hoped Cassandra would understand the impossible position the scandal had created. She had not anticipated such vitriol, such naked hostility and threats. Cassandra had declared her disinterest in Mr Darcy and spoken of pursuing someone else instead. Why then did she believe Elizabeth had schemed to take him away from her?
She pressed a hand to her temple, where a headache was beginning to pulse. This was certainly not the time to considerall of those questions. There were more belongings to pack, and her mother would not let her hear the end of it if she missed anything.
"Lizzy?" Jane's voice came from the drawing room doorway. "Are you well? You look pale."
"I am fine." Elizabeth straightened, forcing a smile. "Merely overwhelmed by all the farewells."
Jane studied her with the penetrating gaze of one who had known her all her life. "What did Miss Rochford say to you?"
"Nothing of consequence." The lie tasted bitter, but Elizabeth could not bring herself to burden Jane with the full truth. Not now, when her sister was so happy, when her own future with Mr Bingley stretched bright before her. "She merely wished to offer her congratulations."
Jane's expression suggested she did not entirely believe this, but she didn't press further. "Mama’s asking for you.”
Elizabeth drew a deep breath, pushing aside her distress over the confrontation with Cassandra. Tomorrow she would leave Longbourn and begin her new life at Pemberley. She felt plenty of sympathy for her friend and truly hoped more positive outcomes would surface for her.
For now, she had a husband waiting, a future to step into, and a fragile hope that somehow, despite everything, it might all work out.
Chapter Sixteen
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Four days later
The journey had been long—five days of rattling carriages and pleasant conversation that never quite breached the surface of the incredible depth both she and Mr Darcy possessed. Now, as the carriage rounded the final bend and Pemberley came into view, Elizabeth felt her breath catch despite herself.
The house rose from the landscape like something from a dream—all elegant proportions and honey-coloured stone, its windows reflecting the late afternoon sun. Woods crowned the hills behind it, and before it stretched a lawn that seemed to flow naturally into the surrounding parkland. It was beautiful in a way that made her earlier anxieties about inadequacy flare anew.
"It is rather grand," Mr Darcy said quietly beside her, mirroring her own thoughts. "I know it well, and yet seeing it now still takes me somewhat by surprise. As though I am viewing it for the first time."
She glanced at him, noting the slight furrow between his brows that had become his habitual expression. "Does it feel like home to you?"
"Yes and no." He seemed to consider his words carefully. "I know every room, every corridor. Yet there are certain memories which I've been told occurred here recently that I cannot quite grasp. It can feel a bit disconcerting sometimes.”
Before she could respond, the carriage drew to a halt before the grand entrance. Servants materialised as if summoned by magic—footmen to manage the luggage, a butler whose dignified bearing suggested decades of service, and a woman of middle years whose warm visage immediately set her somewhat at ease.
"Mr Darcy, welcome home." The woman curtsied, then turned her attention to Elizabeth with undisguised interest and what appeared to be great pleasure. "And Mrs Darcy. What a joy to have you here at last. I am Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper. If there is anything you require to make your stay comfortable, you need only ask."
"Thank you, Mrs Reynolds." She managed a smile despite her fatigue. "You are very kind."
