“Georgiana is much occupied at present,” Lady Catherine replied. Then, with a slight pause, “I believe congratulations are in order.”
Miss Bingley tilted her head, a look of polite confusion crossing her face.
“I do not have the pleasure of understanding your meaning.”
“I refer, of course, to the engagement of your brother to Miss Bennet.”
Miss Bingley gave a small, dismissive huff.
“Yes, Charles mentioned it. He appears happy, though I cannot but wonder how long that will continue, once he fully considers the family to which he has attached himself.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes widened, and she regarded Miss Bingley in steady astonishment.
“Are you suggesting that Miss Bennet is not a suitable match for your brother?”
Miss Bingley shrugged lightly.
“I am sure Miss Bennet is a very sweet young woman, but I cannot consider the connection an advantageous one. He might have done considerably better.”
“Better,” Lady Catherine repeated, her tone sharpening, “than a gentlewoman whose family has held their estate for generations, and who have lately come into possession of another? Pray tell me, Miss Bingley, how many estates does your own family possess? And for how many years have they held them?”
Miss Bingley’s complexion rose to a most unbecoming shade of crimson.
Lady Catherine observed her with a brief look of concern, as though she feared she might expire on the spot.
She inclined her head toward the maid who had appeared in the doorway. “Tea.”
Miss Bingley at last recovered her voice. “I am quite certain Mr. Darcy would never form such an alliance.”
Lady Catherine sighed, almost thoughtfully. “I once believed the same. I had long intended him for my daughter. Yet neither Darcy nor Anne ever wished it, and Darcy has always maintained that cousin marriages are not to be encouraged.”
She paused, considering. “However, I have since revised my opinion. Miss Elizabeth Bennet is not so unworthy as I first supposed.”
Miss Bingley stared at her in open disbelief. “She would have done far better to marry your clergyman.”
Lady Catherine gave a small shake of her head. “Miss Elizabeth is not a woman to be wasted on Mr. Collins.”
“Not so unworthy,” Miss Bingley repeated, the words clearly displeasing her.
Lady Catherine regarded her with measured patience. “Miss Bingley, I think it best you understand the matter plainly. My nephew was never likely to form such an attachment as you suppose.”
She adjusted her grip upon her cane. “Setting aside your family’s connection to trade, which he might overlook if sufficiently inclined, you would not suit him. You delight in society, in assemblies, in being observed. My nephew attends such things only from necessity. Left to his own preference, he would remain at Pemberley the greater part of the year.”
Miss Bingley lifted her chin slightly. “Surely a wife might persuade him otherwise.”
Lady Catherine considered this. “Perhaps. But I do not think you would succeed.”
She leaned back. “No. It is far better you understand this now than persist in a mistaken expectation. Tomorrow evening is Lady Harcourt’s ball. I am acquainted with several very eligible gentlemen who would admire a lady of your energy and determination.”
Miss Bingley sank back in her chair, her composure at last giving way to something quieter. She inclined her head, though without enthusiasm.
“Now,” Lady Catherine continued, as though the matter were entirely settled, “we shall see you very well matched yet.”
She regarded her for a moment longer. “You will thank me for my honesty one day.”
Chapter twenty-nine
The following morning, the butler brought a letter for Elizabeth. She broke the seal at once.
