“Yes. I brought her a draught for her pain.”
“Very good. Thank you.” What welcome news!
Mrs. Reynolds departed. I put away my music, grinning and humming a merry tune. In the next moment, though, I coveredmy mouth and cringed. How could I allow Lady Rebecca to affect me in such a negative way?Am I so unfeeling as to rejoice at another woman’s infirmity?No, I should go at once to Lady Rebecca and enquire if she needed anything further to soothe her symptoms.
Halfway up the staircase, my steps slowed. Once I had ensured Lady Rebecca’s well-being, it would behoove me to take advantage of her absence and seek out Lady Catherine. Yes, I should do that.
Thirty minutes later, having ascertained Lady Catherine’s location, I took Bennet to the library. We entered hand-in-hand and stopped before the forbidding lady, who sat perusing a London magazine. “Good day, Lady Catherine. I hope you have been comfortable here and have everything you need.”
“Humph.” She did not bother to look at us.
Well, I shall take that to mean, “Yes, thank you.”I took Bennet to the nearby sofa, and we sat together. “Perhaps you would like to observe Bennet’s progress with his letters.”
At this, Lady Catherine raised her sight from the magazine to scowl at me. “I do not know what sort of game you are playing, but you are wasting your time. Whatever you may do will have no effect on me.”
With effort, I resisted the urge to make a face at her. “I do not take your meaning. It occurred to me that I might relieve your concerns for Bennet’s education whilst providing you an opportunity to become better acquainted with him.” My son leaned upon me as he peeked at his stony-faced great-aunt.
Bending close to him, I gestured towards Lady Catherine. “Bennet, this lady is your great-aunt, and her name is Lady Catherine. Can you say, ‘Lady Catherine’?”
“Lady Cat-tin.” He beamed at me.
“Can you try again? I shall say it slower this time. Lady Cath-er-ine.”
“Lady Cat-ta-in.”
“Lady Cath-er-ine.”
“Lady Cat-ta-in.”
My hand covered his head, ruffling his dark, curly hair. “You made an admirable attempt. Your great-aunt is a considerable lady with a substantial name to match.” I raised my sight to her. “A few sounds are difficult for Bennet to pronounce, but he knows a great number of words already for his age and has memorised the names of every horse in the stables.”
She did not respond and returned her attention to the magazine.
From a nearby drawer, I removed a stack of cards marked with letters of the alphabet in random order and held each one in front of Bennet for him to specify. My son named the letters correctly except for the B’s and D’s; he mixed those up about half the time. After he named the final letter, I praised him for his fine performance. With a frown, I glanced at Lady Catherine, who continued to disregard us. Did she not take any interest in her great-nephew?
I pointed to my son’s bookshelf. “Bennet, shall you choose a book for me to read to you?” He climbed down from the sofa and grabbed one of his favourites from the special shelf installed for his use several months earlier. It had been Fitzwilliam’s notion; he anticipated the three of us perusing books together in the library once our son had mastered reading.
My son placed the well-worn volume of Perrault’s Mother Goose Tales in my lap. As I read aloud, he displayed every sign of being enraptured. His eyes grew larger as the tale evolved, and his smile widened each time I altered my voice to portray the various characters in the stories. At every turn of a page, he pointed to the characters depicted in the fanciful illustrations and called out their names.
After twenty minutes of reading, I instructed him to put his book back, and I stowed away the cards. We took our leave of Lady Catherine with Bennet demonstrating the bow he had been practicing of late.
Lady Catherine gave us a curt nod.
When we reached the second-floor landing, I leaned low toward Bennet. “You did very well, my dear. Your papa’s aunt is as tough as they come, but despite her show of imperviousness, I do not believe even she can resist your charms.”
Lady Catherine
Once Elizabeth had left with the boy, I stretched my arms out, then reclined against the chair. Spared from that unasked for interruption, I should read in peace and solitude.
I turned my attention back to the article I had been reading before the intruders entered the library, but a small voice in the back of my head badgered me, preventing my making any progress.For a few minutes here and there, Elizabeth and the child had provided a pleasant diversion. Of course, anyone would enjoy the company of my charming great-nephew. In contrast, Elizabeth is tolerable at best. It is amazing how much the boy favours Darcy in looks. Although, even as a child, Darcy was always quiet and serious, unlike the sprightly and cheery Bennet. It is clear the boy is quite intelligent too.
Moments later, I banished the perfidious voice. I had come to Pemberley for a specific purpose, and I should not be deterred from my goal.
A maid entered and handed me a note from Lady Rebecca. I skimmed the elegant handwriting.Fie, what did she mean by feigning illness? She had a task to fulfil! I crumpled up the paperand threw it upon the wooden floor. Well, she would have to answer to me at once.
Upon reaching the family wing, I stamped down the passage towards Lady Rebecca’s chamber. The utter impudence of that woman! I gave her five hundred pounds upon our arrival at Pemberley as we had agreed. How dared she shirk her duty to me? I pounded on the door with my walking stick. “It is I, Lady Catherine.”
Her abigail opened the door. “Pardon me, my lady, but—”
