What is this sanctimonious foolishness? Is it a manoeuvre to trick me into paying more money?My chin set higher. “Do not waste a moment of concern on Mrs. Darcy. She is a heartless harpy who contrived to steal the man meant to marry my daughter! My nephew must be mired in regret for his foolish choice of a wife. If you wish to know all the sordid details, I shall apprise you during the journey to Derbyshire—that is, if you agree.”
Lines formed between Lady Rebecca’s eyebrows. “What is your nephew like? Is he attractive?”
Aha—now I have her!“My nephew is uncommonly handsome. Lady Juliet is familiar with him, and she will tell you the same. He is one-and-thirty and in top physical condition.”
A knot formed in her forehead. “If not for my dire financial situation, I should never consider such an outrageous scheme, but I need the money. I accept your offer.”
My posture dipped with my exhalation, and I presented a genial smile. “I am pleased to hear it.”
Present Day
Pemberley
Lady Catherine
A rumbling sound of pleasure came from the golden-haired Adonis, Mr. Graham, rousing me from my reverie. Like the nightbefore, he spoke little, attending to his overladen plate of food like a starved man. How did he maintain his trim waist?
Throughout the meal, I attempted to excite Darcy’s anticipation of hearing Lady Rebecca’s musical performance and encouraged a dialogue between them. To my annoyance, he kept referring to his wife with a question or remark, drawing her into our conversation. I could scarcely eat for grinding my teeth. Why should I wish to listen to anythingshecould have to say on any subject? In my pique, I grew quieter than usual. Elizabeth, though, blathered on; she made trifling comments and elicited smiles from my foolish nephew. I had to admit, for all she lacked in education and breeding, Elizabeth had a gift for maintaining Darcy’s interest.
After dinner, we removed to the music room. I almost hummed along as Lady Rebecca delivered a splendid musical performance, singing and playing on the harp. I had selected the pieces for her and included Darcy’s favourites. However, my smile disappeared at the sight of the Darcys seated close together on the sofa and holding hands. Without Elizabeth’s base influence, my nephew would never indulge in such improper behaviour in the presence of guests!
Lady Rebecca’s musical skills ought to have impressed Darcy, yet several times I caught him talking softly to his wife instead of listening. Even so, Lady Rebecca finished playing to applause and words of praise from all present. She glanced at me on her way to her seat as though seeking approval for a job well done. I managed to produce a tight-lipped smile. I could not blame her for my nephew’s apparent failure to be moved by her performance. Mayhap he ought to witness the stark contrast between his wife’s meagre talents and Lady Rebecca’s.
Upon my suggestion that Elizabeth play for us, she gave me a wide-eyed look—no doubt my request took her by surprise. Nevertheless, she complied.
My anticipatory grin died on my lips soon after Elizabeth played the opening notes to a wistful Beethoven sonata. Her skill had improved a great deal since her visit to Rosings over three years ago. She must have taken my advice to practice with diligence.How vexing!
Lady Rebecca had taken Elizabeth’s place on the sofa next to Darcy. Her attempts to engage him in conversation, though, did not succeed; he seemed intent on listening to his wife play. His terse replies to Lady Rebecca bordered on incivility.
In a final attempt to emphasise the superiority of Lady Rebecca, I asked Elizabeth to sing. She chose a melancholy, Irish folk song.
After she sang the first few verses, I sat taller, rejoicing in my clever idea, for her voice could not measure up to Lady Rebecca’s superior soprano, which rivalled that of an opera star. But when I turned to my nephew, his visage attested a different opinion. He displayed a slight smile with a luminous quality to his eyes. Upon my word, Darcy had deluded himself into a false reality, believing his wife to be a gifted songstress.
When Elizabeth left the instrument, Mr. Graham took his leave of us. Soon thereafter, we all withdrew from the music room to retire for the night.
At the second-floor landing, Lady Rebecca and I turned left towards our rooms while Darcy and Elizabeth turned right towards the master’s and mistress’s chambers.
When I reached my doorway, a sudden impulse made me turn back. Darcy and Elizabeth strolled along the passage hand-in-hand, stopping in front of the mistress’s door. My nephew raised Elizabeth’s hand to his lips for a kiss. She gazed at him with a seductive smile. A strange sensation came over me at the sight of them, along with a whisper of a memory long buried. I raised my hand to the wainscoted wall to maintain my balance.
With my jaw clenched and my spine rigid, I locked my sight on the pair until they entered the mistress’s room and shut the door.
Sunday, 17 September
Elizabeth
Fitzwilliam and I walked to the Greens’ residence this morning. Along the way, we traded diverting remembrances of Bennet from our individual time spent with him in the past several days.
For my part, I shared my most recent entries to the “Bennet Journal,” a written log I had commenced the first month of our son’s birth to document his growth, activities, and most memorable words and phrases.
The sight of a mourning wreath upon the Green’s door brought our light-hearted discourse and forward movement to a halt.
I gasped, and my eyes met his. He gave my hand a squeeze, and we continued onwards. The door opened before we reached it, and Mr. Green greeted us, waving us inside.
When Selina came to welcome us, Fitzwilliam handed her a basket of fruits, nuts, rolls, and sweetmeats. His gaze shifted to include Mr. Green. “I am very sorry to have come too late to see your mother one last time.”
“There is no need to apologize.” Mr. Green glanced at Selina. “We can imagine how busy you have been since Mr. Hughes left. Besides, my mother drew much comfort from the visit with Mrs. Darcy and your friend.”
Selina placed a hand on her heart. “Mother Green spoke on and on of her delight in meeting Mr. Graham, and she appreciated Mrs. Darcy’s kind consideration in giving her the Pomfret cakes she so loved. Her mood remained elevatedthroughout the whole of that evening. In fact, she had a burst of energy that night unlike anything she had shown in months.”
