Elizabeth shook her head, trying to suppress the annoyance she felt at Lady Catherine’s lies. Darcy’s aunt had sworn that she had said nothing at all to incite this, when in fact she had plainly never stopped encouraging her over-sensitive daughter to believe in nonsense. No wonder her ladyship had cried and begged forgiveness! She was as guilty as anyone! Her refusal to help her daughter prepare for a different life was a travesty. “While fiction might represent passion’sideal, it often meets truth somewhere in the middle. Yes, there is much of genuine work that goes into making any marriage a happy one, and passion is not always requisite.”
“But it is not fair! This is not the way it is supposed to be!”
She struggled to find words the girl would understand. “I shall be truthful with you in this—Darcy is my Manfred. I would gladly bear his children and all his burdens. Wherever he is, I would run to him without pausing for rational thought and rational action.”
Miss de Bourgh’s face fell. She stopped pacing and sat down heavily. “I suppose I knew that—from last night. And you are his Theodosia. And I am stuck at Rosings Park with its dull, orderly rows of roses,” she said glumly, pulling out a handkerchief so she could sniffle into it.
Again, it was all Elizabeth could do not to smile; somehow, she restrained the impulse. “Miss de Bourgh, there is no reason why you could not visit Pemberley often, now that Darcy is safely wed and no longer worried that you or your mother will believe him to be on the marriage mart. That is, you may visitafteryou are able to convince my husband that you are no danger to me.”
“Truly?” For the first time, the young woman looked hopeful. “Could I live there?”
“Let us not get ahead of ourselves. You have managed to well and truly alarm him with your murderous Manfred and inflammatory poetry. He is furious at you, at the moment, and half convinced you are a mad woman.”
They both looked over to where he still watched, glowering even more fiercely than before. Miss de Bourgh shivered. “I am not! Or else anyone would be, who was hardly ever allowed to leave Kent.”
“You have refused invitations to Matlock, which I understand is also quite beautiful.”
Anne looked genuinely puzzled. “I refused no invitations.” Her lip curled. “I suppose Mama refused for me. She does not like to go anywhere or do anything except muck around at Rosings Park, and she does not like me to go anywhere without her. I tell you, marriage would have been so convenient!”
“Except for thatinconvenient husband, who is the keystone of the whole ‘marriage’ structure.”
“You need not be sarcastic. I suppose you should call me Anne, now that we are to be related.”
Elizabeth looked her over carefully. “I cannot believe you are taking this so well,” she said, a little suspicious.
Anne only shrugged. “I had perhaps an hour of sleep, and am exhausted. Besides, fits only work on Mama. My Papa always used to tell me it was the only way to soften her heart. “
“I wholly support using them less often. It would speed your welcome to Pemberley, I think, were you to adopt more, hm, conventional methods of communicating. You must know me as Elizabeth. I have looked forward to gaining new cousins.”
Anne peered up at Elizabeth and back towards Darcy, her tone becoming confidential. “Honestly, can you not just imagine him tossing a woman over a keep’s battlement and laughing as he did it?” she whispered. “I did think to warn you about his temper, even if I admit to being rather…glad, in the moment, that you would discover it for yourself.”
Elizabeth did laugh this time. “No, dear Anne, I cannot envision any such thing. He is the most gentle and tender man I know, despite the current ferocity of his frown. I donot say he will be an easy husband, for he is much accustomed to command and obedience. But then, neither am I a particularly easy, docile wife. That is where the affection and passion can be very…useful. To us both.”
“Well frankly, when Mama does not get her way, she can be just as tyrannical as Darcy. She loves giving advice and watching people pretend to enjoy being ordered about, almost as much as she loves her neat, methodical lines of roses. I suppose I have also always known that this dream of a marriage between us was more hers than mine. But she does love me and she loves Darcy, and I thought…somehow, it would all work out.”
“And so it will.” Briskly, Elizabeth crossed to her husband, Anne lagging reluctantly behind. It amazed Elizabeth—the girl seemed actually frightened of Darcy now. Why could not Lady Catherine have seen how wrong he was for her daughter?
Except, as she had just discovered for herself, Anne de Bourgh lived in a world of her own making, and not much of good sense governed it; it was to be supposed that Lady Catherine lacked something in sense as well. Elizabeth approached her husband, hands outstretched, and he immediately took both of hers into his own.
“Darling, I think there has been a grave misunderstanding at work,” she said.
“And what might that be?” His glare towards Anne was unremitting.
“Anne has believed, in the past, that she wished to marry you; what she truly desires, however, is to live in a place with the views and natural beauty of Pemberley, and to be let out from under her mother’s perhaps too-loving thumb.”
This enlightenment did not appear to impress Darcy. “And thus, Anne, you decided to terrorise my wife? Did it never occur to you that I would not want you within miles of her or Pemberley, after all this nonsense?”
Elizabeth pressed his hands tightly, while Anne stared at her feet.
“No, it never occurred to her. She is not accustomed to thinking of actual solutions to real problems, framed in a practical manner. Her mother has not only failed to do as you asked, and prepare Anne for a different life, with a different husband, but she continued to hold out hope that you might change your mind. I believe it is as much your aunt who owes you an apology, as does Anne, in my mind.”
“Iamsorry, Cousin Elizabeth,” Anne blurted. “I grew carried away. I shall replace the clothing I took from Darcy from my own allowance.”
“And perhaps you had better be prepared to pay for any damage to Mr Bingley’s lawns as well,” Elizabeth suggested.
“That too, of course,” she agreed eagerly.
Darcy was still frowning, but he did not seem quite so angry, at least to Elizabeth’s eyes. She squeezed his hands again.
