“All right, well, yes, it’s not so much aformalagreement with legally binding papers and all of that,” she said. “But he is meant for my Anne, and it would be impossible for him to marry you.”
“Well, there you have it, then,” I muttered. “Your ladyship has declared it impossible. So, let’s just tell Willie that, and we shall all forget the whole thing. By the way, I think I shall have a headache later during tea. Ever so sorry not to make it. If you’ll excuse me, then.” I turned to go.
“Stop where you are!” she thundered.
I did not stop. I kept going. “Yes, it’s all a misunderstanding, Lady Catherine. Please think no more on it!”
“Stop moving this instant.”
I stopped, sighing.
“Turn round, girl.”
I turned around.
“Did you call him Willie?”
“I should not have said that,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t know what came over me. It was awful. Perhaps I should go away and think on the things I’ve done. Somewhere all alone, I think.” I started to turn around again.
“He wishes to marry you,” she said. She sighed. “Well, of course he does. Look at you. The picture of health, and you are so quick-witted and pretty and what man doesn’t wish to rebel just a bit, especially with his choice of bride?”
“How about I just tell him that I’ve been apprised he’s already engaged?” I said. “I’ll go and do that now, shall I?” I rushed for the door. I reached down to turn the knob, but it turned before I could even touch it. Startled, I stepped back.
Mr. Darcy opened the door and came inside the sitting room. “Aunt Catherine, what are you about? Are you terrorizing poor Elizabeth?”
Lady Catherine shook her head at him. “You cannot marry her.”
“Well, I have to at this point,” said Mr. Darcy, putting his arm around me. He nuzzled my neck.
I shoved him off. “Sir, you forget yourself.”
“True, when I am around you, I forget myself.” He smiled at his aunt. “Here’s the way of it, Aunt Catherine, I’m never going to marry Anne! I don’t like her. She doesn’t like me. It’s not happening. What do you think about that?” He was practically beaming.
I tried to get away from him, but he was holding tightly onto me. “Mr. Darcy, please.”
“Are you drunk, Fitzwilliam?” said Lady Catherine. “Something is quite wrong with you.”
“I’m desperately in love is what it is,” said Mr. Darcy. “Desperately.”
“Let go of me,” I said in a tight voice.
“I was really hoping you were going to screech,” said Mr. Darcy, eyeing his aunt. “I was ever so looking forward to that.”
I pried his hand off of me and fled the room.
Outside, Charlotte and Mr. Collins were waiting for me.
I wrung out my hands, letting out a high-pitched noise of frustration.
From within the room, behind the shut door, Lady Catherine began to screech. We could not make out her words, though. They were muffled behind the closed door.
Mr. Collins cringed.
Charlotte put her fingers to her lips.
I groaned.
She screeched for some time.
