Arthur cleared his throat, interrupting the verbal sparring between Darcy and his aunt. “Perhaps this is nothing but I suppose I ought to mention it. Yesterday afternoon, a few others and I saw Mrs Darcy heading towards the village in her family’s carriage. She appeared quite nervous upon seeing us, which struck me as unusual for someone simply taking fresh air.”
Darcy’s entire body tensed as his cousin’s words registered. “Elizabeth went to Snowhill? When exactly was this?”
“Late afternoon the previous day. Our carriage was returning from the horse races when we encountered hers on the road. She said she was exploring the area. Did she not mention the excursion to you?”
“No. She did not.”
The steady rattle of wheels and the rhythmic sound of hooves filled the cabin. His mind raced through implications with uncomfortable speed. His wife had gone to the village—alone, apparently, given Arthur’s phrasing—and had not thought to mention it to him. She’d actively concealed the excursion, retiring early and claiming a headache to avoid recounting her day’s activities in casual conversation.”
Why? What business in the village required such secrecy?
“I told you,” Lady Catherine announced with evident satisfaction. “The girl is already keeping secrets from you. You have been blind to the Bennets’ true nature, Darcy, despite all my warnings. That family is wholly unsuitable, and now you are discovering the consequences of your hasty alliance with people so far beneath your station.”
“Aunt Catherine—”
“Do not ‘Aunt Catherine’ me. I speak only the truth, however unpleasant you find it to hear.” She shook her head in disbelief, her expression severe. “You have always been too proud to accept guidance, too stubborn to acknowledge when you have erred. This entire marriage has been suspiciously convenient from the start. An unexpected engagement announced within hours of meeting and a wedding rushedthrough with unseemly haste! I have harboured suspicions since first learning of this alliance, and now they prove justified.”
“What suspicions?” Darcy’s voice had gone dangerously quiet. “What precisely are you implying?”
“That the Bennet girl was involved with those fortune hunters who attempted to trap you at the garden party. And perhaps the entire scheme was orchestrated from the beginning, her supposed rescue merely theatre designed to position herself as your saviour, thereby obligating you to her. You have been manipulated from the first moment by someone far more calculating than you are willing to acknowledge.”
“That is enough.” The command cracked through the carriage like a whip. Darcy fixed his aunt with a look that had cowed stronger personalities than hers. “You will not impugn Elizabeth’s character with such baseless speculation. She acted to protect me at considerable cost to herself, at risk to her own reputation. I will not tolerate such vicious accusations against my wife.”
“Baseless? She keeps secrets from you already! She travels to villages without explanation! How can you possibly defend such suspicious behaviour? You are allowing sentiment to override the evidence of your own observations. This marriage is already showing signs of the disaster I predicted.”
“My wife is allowed to travel on her own without my permission. I do not tell her of every excursion I take either,” he said, not wanting to let his vexation show. “Besides, I was the one who wished for the marriage to take place, not her.”
“Oh, is that so? Or has she convinced you that this was the case?”
“Catherine.” Lord Matlock’s single word carried more authority than his sister’s entire tirade. “You will cease this line of commentary immediately. Darcy’s marriage is his own concern, not yours to dissect or condemn. You have made your opinions abundantly clear. They have been noted and dismissed. Further repetition serves no purpose beyond causing pain, which I trust is not your actual intention even if your words might suggest otherwise.”
Lady Catherine’s mouth compressed into a thin line. She turned her face away with affronted dignity, every line of her rigid posture radiating disapproval.
The silence that followed felt oppressive, heavy with things unsaid and tensions unresolved. Darcy stared at his hands where they rested on his knees, his aunt’s words residing in his mind despite his outward dismissal of them. The accusations were outrageous, offensive and without foundation in anything approaching evidence.
Elizabeth keeping secrets and being involved with the fortune hunters? Her rescue of him being calculated rather than spontaneous?
He rejected such thoughts immediately. He had been there, after all, and witnessed her complete shock when Lydia announced their engagement to the entire party without warning or permission. He’d seen her mortification and clear dismay at how rapidly events escalated beyond her control. She’d made attempts to mitigate the damage, her discomfort with the situation she had inadvertently created made obvious.
If she had schemed to trap him, she would not have appeared so trapped herself. Nor offered him escape so readily when he suggested alternatives to actual marriage.
Yet she had gone to the village without mentioning it and seemed to be avoiding him since.
Why?
Richard broke the strained silence in a manner that suggested he had been considering his contribution for some time. “For what it is worth, I do not believe our aunt’s accusations hold any merit. I have observed Mrs Darcy these past days. Whatever troubles her, it is not the satisfaction of a successful schemer.”
“Thank you.”
Darcy meant it with sincere gratitude. Richard’s judgement was far sounder than Lady Catherine’s prejudice allowed.
“Still,” Richard continued, his tone suggesting he understood he was treading on sensitive ground, “Arthur may have a point about guilt. Something weighs upon her. And if she has been keeping secrets, even small ones which seem insignificant, that might explain her current distance from you.”
“Then I shall discover the truth when we return to Matlock. No matter what it is that she conceals, I doubt it merits the dramatic constructions our aunt has placed upon it. More likely some minor matter she feels awkward addressing. We shall discuss it directly, and I am confident it will prove far less momentous than current speculation suggests.”
Arthur nodded. “I hope you are right. For both your sakes.”
The carriage rolled onward towards the first tenant meeting. Conversation turned to estate matters such as what petitions Lord Matlock anticipated receiving based on recent weather and disputes that had accumulated since the previous quarter period.
