The sounds of the others approaching impelled me to school my features before the door opened. Fitzwilliam entered with Lady Rebecca attached to his arm, and Graham followed behind them. Fitzwilliam opted for the seat nearest to me and gave me a questioning look, his brows raised. I attempted to appear tranquil.
“I have never seen a more delightful orangery.” Lady Rebecca’s sight shifted from Fitzwilliam to Lady Catherine. “And the library is quite impressive.”
With an aggravating degree of poise, Lady Catherine nodded. “Now you know I did not exaggerate.”
By and by, Graham enquired of Fitzwilliam’s plans for the following day, and my husband related the need to inspect the cattle in the north pasture. When Lady Rebecca declared her desire to accompany him, my hands curled, fingernails digging into my palms. Fitzwilliam attempted to dissuade her, describing the venture as a tedious undertaking, but upon the lady’s insistence, he relented.
At this, Lady Catherine flashed a sneer my way. I maintained a steady gaze back at her, determined to deny her the satisfaction of detecting my disquiet.The hateful woman!My foot drummed a brisk rhythm upon the Egyptian rug. Would this evening ever end? Moreover, Fitzwilliam would ask what had occurred when I spent time alone with his aunt. What should I tell him?
Graham sat forwards to behold me. “I intend to go to Buxton tomorrow. Perhaps you and Lady Catherine would like to accompany me?”
“No, thank you.” Lady Catherine raised her sight to him. “I prefer to remain here and rest from my journey.”
“I shall go with you.” Anything would be preferable to remaining home withher.
Graham grinned at me. “That is splendid.”
By the end of the evening, I managed to recover a bit of calm, yet it dissipated upon Fitzwilliam’s entrance into my room. Our conversation would bring the repugnance of his aunt’s statements to the forefront again.
He sat beside me. “When we joined you and my aunt in the drawing-room earlier, you appeared pale and quiet. I thought we had settled the issue of Lady Rebecca. Are you still perturbed about her? Or did my aunt offend you?”
His query, though not unexpected, sent a wave of discomfort to my stomach. My conversation with Lady Catherine had plagued me all evening, yet I had not concluded how to discuss the matter with Fitzwilliam. Did I dare ask him the questions that had been haunting me? “I cannot be comfortable at the sight of another woman clinging to you like a vine of ivy, but that is not what aggrieves me now. Your aunt had a great deal to say, including her object in coming here.”
Rather than clarify my statement at once, I rose and paced up and down the room; I craved the activity as much as the distance from him.
He stood as well, and his forehead constricted as he watched me.
“Ever since our engagement, I have been distressed to be the cause, at least in part, of the estrangement between you and your aunt and cousin, and—”
“You have no fault in that. I have told you more than once that the blame lies entirely with my aunt.”
With my wrist clasped behind my back, I took a measured inhalation. Must he interrupt me when I am trying to findthe best way to express my thoughts? “Nevertheless, you have precious little family left, and I cannot be easy with the fact that our marriage caused you to lose two of your relations. Like you, I blamed Lady Catherine for being too stubborn, haughty, and bad-tempered to accept our union. But after talking with her this evening, it occurred to me that perhaps we have all been a bit wrong, and a portion of the fault for her grudge should go to you.”
His carriage stiffened. “What do you mean?”
Fie,he had used his “master of Pemberley” voice—he is already provoked.I faced him with my hands clenched in front of me. “Have you ever considered why your cousin Anne has led such a sheltered and dreary existence?”
“That is because she has always been weak and prone to illness, and her mother is overprotective.”
“I do not think that is the entire answer. Her infirmity may be part of the explanation, but I suspect it is also because her mother clung to the assumption that Anne had no reason to ever be educated, become accomplished, or come out among superior society. Lady Catherine believed Anne had no need to make herself attractive to a prospective suitor because Anne was assured of a husband—you.”
Fitzwilliam opened his mouth but did not speak.
“You are too intelligent to have never considered this before.” I ceded any further attempt at prudence, allowing my candid thoughts to dash from my mouth like a bolting horse. “According to your aunt, you understood that Anne grew up with this expectation. Yet you never disavowed the notion, not even when your aunt spread the news abroad of your expected betrothal.”
A reddish tint shaded his face and ears. “What do you mean? Who else knew?”
“Both Mr. Collins and Mr. Wickham remarked that you would one day marry your cousin Anne.”
He folded his arms. “Nothing Wickham says can be taken for truth, and your cousin is always spouting nonsense.”
I threw my hands in the air. “That is beside the point! You allowed your cousin Anne to live under the misconception that you would one day wed her.” I paused to regulate my voice. “Am I mistaken? Did you ever tell your aunt you would not marry her daughter or tell Anne that you and she would not suit each other?”
“No, I did not.” He pushed both hands through his hair. “Elizabeth, this has all been Lady Catherine’s doing. She insisted on perpetuating this fantasy that she and my mother wished for my cousin and me to be wed. Neither of my parents ever expected me to make Anne my wife. I have no responsibility in this.”
With a groan, I pressed my palm to my forehead. Could he not see that his silence allowed Anne to cultivate false hopes? “Maybe your mother once voiced an idle thought with regards to you and Anne that Lady Catherine took as a wish. In any event, you ought to have told your aunt that you would not abide by it. But maybe you had a purpose in allowing Lady Catherine to continue in her belief.”
“What purpose would that be?”
