Anne did not look away. “That is not what I was told,” she said. Though her voice was quiet as ever, she spoke with both determination and a hint of ice. Anne, who had so long followed her mother’s will unquestioningly, would not be put off. “You said she was called away unexpectedly, and that there was nothing in it which required further notice. If she was dismissed — if she was compelled to leave in such a manner — I wish to know it.”
Lady Catherine hesitated, and in that hesitation, the truth was already revealed. “I did what was necessary,” she said at last. “I acted for your sake, and for the honour of the family. That young woman had formed expectations which could not be permitted, and it was proper that she should be removed before they could proceed further.”
Anne rose slowly, her gaze still fixed on her mother. “You dismissed her because you believed she might become my rival.”
Lady Catherine did not deny it. “I acted as any mother would act who had her daughter’s future at heart.”
Anne shook her head, as cool and certain as ajudge. “I would not wish my future secured by such means,” she said. She turned towards Darcy and gave him a slightly rueful smile. “I do not wish to marry my cousin. If I did, I would not wish it to be brought about in such a manner. To degrade another for my advantage would be no advantage at all.”
Lady Catherine attempted to interrupt her, but Anne continued without yielding. “You have misrepresented what passed, and you have done so in a way which reflects not on Miss Bennet, but on yourself. I cannot approve it. Excuse me, Mother. I have nothing more to say to you.”
And with a last nod to Darcy, Anne turned on her heel and left the room. After a moment’s hesitation, Mrs Jenkinson followed her.
Lady Catherine looked after her daughter for a long moment, her mouth gaping open in shock. As Anne’s reproof sank in, she turned to Darcy in a rage. “You see what you have done. You have turned my daughter against me and encouraged in her a spirit of opposition which I have never before had reason to fear, all for the sake of a young woman who should not have had the slightest claim on you.”
Darcy regarded her with composure. “I have encouraged nothing. Your daughter has judged for herself, and she has judged rightly.”
“I will not hear this,” Lady Catherine said, turning as if to dismiss him.
“You will hear it,” Darcy replied, before she could withdraw, “for it concerns not only what you have done, but what you may yet do.”
The calm authority of his manner made resistance impossible. Lady Catherine was visibly displeased, but did not interrupt him again.
“Hear me, Aunt Catherine,” Darcy began. “You have already lost the regard of those whose opinions you most value. I shall not soon forget how you have tried to interfere in my affairs, nor yet how you lied to me. Such respect as I once had for you, as my relation and my elder, is now gone. You are now in danger of losing your daughter’s confidence as well, and if you persist in the conduct which has produced this result, you will have no right to be surprised at its consequences.”
For once, Lady Catherine had no reply.
“I would advise you,” he continued, “to consider what has passed, and to amend it where amendment is still possible. If your behaviour justifies such an indulgence, I will see you again for my cousin’s sake. But if another insult towards my future wife should ever pass your lips, you will never see me again.”
He inclined his head slightly, and without waiting for any answer, turned and left the room.
Darcy did not linger in the house, nor did he look back on it as he departed. Whatever obligationhe had once felt toward it was now altered beyond recovery, and though he could not entirely separate his present judgment from the habits of former regard, neither regret nor resentment was enough to detain him.
With her stern and proper judgement, Anne had punished her mother better than Darcy could have hoped to. He was pleased by the justice of the arrangement, and doubly pleased for what it seemed to say about Anne’s increasing force of will, and what it might mean for her own future happiness. His cousin had spent many long years following her mother’s will. If Darcy was not much mistaken, that uncontested reign was about to end.
Almost as soon as he turned his horse onto the main road, Darcy’s thoughts turned from Rosings to what awaited him beyond it. That he should soon return to Elizabeth, not in doubt nor in restraint, but with every obstacle removed which had once stood between them, placed all that had just passed in its proper light.
They need only wait for the banns to be read, and they would be married, with all uncertainties gone. Elizabeth Bennet would be Elizabeth Darcy. She would be his forever, and he hers. Georgiana would have a beloved sister, Pemberley would have a mistress for the first time in sixteen years, and Darcy himself would have a most cherished wife.
He could hardly wait.
Epilogue
Until she had lived through the weeks of waiting for the banns to be wed, Elizabeth had never imagined that four weeks could at once seem like so short and so long a time. There was much to be done, and it seemed hardly possible to do it all, yet when she thought that days yet remained before she could be Mr Darcy’s wife, Elizabeth wished that the time might go yet more quickly.
For something so long awaited, their wedding seemed to pass almost in a blink. Afterwards, Elizabeth could remember little beyond what she had felt at the moment of pledging herself to Darcy forever, and the depth of emotion in his eyes as he had made his vows to her. The wedding breakfast passed almost in a blink. Some weeks were spent in a wedding trip to Bath, which would forever remain in Elizabeth’s memory as a golden time of love and discovery, before they began on the journey to Derbyshire.
Undertaken without haste and in considerable luxury, the journey north was more comfortablethan Elizabeth had imagined so long a carriage ride could be. The landscape became more dramatic as they came into the Peak District, very different from the gentle rolling hills of Hertfordshire, but with a stark beauty that went to Elizabeth’s heart at once. Then at last the carriage was rolling through Lambton, the nearest village to Pemberley, and then on to the Darcy landholding.
The approach to Pemberley was more beautiful than Elizabeth had imagined, though she had imagined it often. The road wound gently through rising ground and scattered trees before opening to a clear view of the house.
Upon finally seeing her new home, Elizabeth drew in a quick, involuntary breath. Pemberley stood with a quiet dignity that did not depend on display. Everything about it felt balanced and well-placed. The house belonged to the land, and the land seemed to belong to it in return.
Though unspoken, it had been obvious that her husband was excited to show her his home. Had the understanding between them been less, Elizabeth might have been frightened lest she disappoint him by liking Pemberley less than he hoped. Now, upon seeing it for herself, she felt certain that however high Darcy’s hopes might be, they would not be disappointed.
Darcy watched her without interrupting. He did not need to speak. His satisfaction was clear, andElizabeth felt it.
As they approached the house, the door opened, and Georgiana came forward at once. “My dear Elizabeth,” she said, taking her hands with warmth, “I am so glad you have come at last.”
