The girls contemplated the question before Mary spoke. “Martha, occasionally, seems ill at ease.”
Elizabeth had graciously offered to share her lady’s maid with her sister, so Mary knew the girl well.
“Truly?” Elizabeth thought the ruddy-faced maid to be comfortable—a stout character who was not prone to fluttering nerves.
“What have you observed, Mary?” Darcy asked, all seriousness.
“The rug in my room makes my steps soundless, and I have startled her with my presence on occasion. Once rummaging through my jewellery box…”
“Was anything missing?” Elizabeth asked.
“No, but I may have interrupted her before the act was completed.”
Elizabeth supposed it was possible that Martha’s practical nature could be a ruse. If it was so, she had been thoroughly fooled.
“She could have been returning something that I had borrowed, but I shall keep her under observation,” Elizabeth assured them.
There was a knock on the door.
“Enter!” Darcy called.
The butler opened the door with a card in his hands. They had been home for less than four-and-twenty hours, and yet a visitor had arrived.
The click of a cane hitting the floor resonated outside the door.
“Move!” a shrill older voice demanded.
Elizabeth rose with alacrity.
“Lady Catherine de Bourgh!” Elizabeth exclaimed and curtsied.
“How is Anne?” Darcy enquired, concern lacing his voice.
“She is improving,” Lady Catherine imparted. “And I have instructed her not to die while I am away. I dare say my darling child has too much respect for her dear mama not to follow my orders.”
“Is she not here?” Elizabeth asked.
“No. She is at Rosings with Mrs Collins. A sensible and practical woman of great compassion. To my surprise, Mr Collins chose well for his bride. She has become a dear friend to my Anne, and I dare say the friendship is of mutual advantage. I do not observe any regret in Mrs Collins for the time she is required to attend my daughter, as she is for the duration spared her husband’s tedious company. But that is not why I have come…”
Lady Catherine’s hawk-like eyes inspected the room.
“Heaven and earth! If it is not Lady Louise. No. It cannot be…”
“It is!” Lady Louise agreed mischievously. “Mrs Darcy is my granddaughter.”
“I was indeed correct to recognise a resemblance the first time we met. You were very sly, Elizabeth, claiming only your French descent. But now I can clearly see why Mrs Darcy has made such a scandal entering theton.”
“As the Germans say, the apple does not fall far from the tree,” Lady Louise remarked good-naturedly. “Or in this case, grandmother to granddaughter, though I must add, entirely undeserved in Mrs Darcy’s case.”
“No, I did not believe so. My nephew is a sensible man and would never have married a trollop. Which is why I have left my ailing daughter to come here and lend my support. The crux of the matter is what are we going to do about it?”
Elizabeth was too stunned to be sensible and left it to her grandmother and husband to inform Lady Catherine about the progress they had made.
Chapter 29 Skeletons in the Closet
Elizabeth rested in Darcy’s lap on a sofa in the master’s chamber. With Lady Catherine, Lady Louise, and Count Reimarus in residence, she had relinquished her room to the comfort of her relations. She had so far spent little time in her husband’s private quarters and was intrigued by the decoration. Was it a reflection of his character or a relic left by his father?
Darcy was verily the best of men. Ever since the suspicion had arisen that she might be with child, his solicitousness had doubled. He had even lit the fire, in August, because she was cold.
