Page 117 of The Mistress of All & Torn

“This is a nightmare,” Lady Catherine uttered. “Miss Bennet, a country nobody from Hertfordshire? Married to Lord Alveston? What nonsense is this? She is an impertinent brat! I was worried that Richard was infatuated with her when he visited me last year. She was there too, you know. Just before Darcy finally proposed to Anne.”

“Catherine, for God’s sake lower your voice! I am not sure what has upset you, but it is the height of disrespect to speak so to the hosts. Why would you care who Lord Alveston marries? You harped on for years about Darcy marrying Anne. Now you want to marry off others to your liking?” Lord Matlock whispered sharply.

“Do not speak to me in such a manner,” Lady Catherine whispered back.

“Then do not embarrass us all!”

“You two calm down,” Lady Matlock interjected. “It is surprising news, but I am glad to see Lord Alveston looking so well. Rumour had it that he was confined to his bed for years. And now he is ready to wed, God bless him.”

“But how did he meet a woman so below his situation in life? Could he not find a more suitable wife? Can you imagine all that fortune will belong to that country girl sooner or later?” Lady Catherine continued.

“And what is that to you? Did you expect it to be left to you?” her brother asked.

“Oh, stop making a fool of yourself,” Lady Catherine said through her teeth.

“Then you should do the same! Now excuse me, I am in desperate need of a drink.” The earl left them in a hurry but not before a last angry glare at his sister.

Lady Catherine, however, continued the conversation with Lady Matlock, nodding to her daughter Anne to join them.

Anne approached, arm-in-arm with Georgiana, Colonel Fitzwilliam following them.

“What is it, Mama? I was just speaking to Jane. Mrs Bingley.”

“Jane? Elizabeth? What is this?” Lady Catherine interrupted her. “When did you become so friendly with the Bennet sisters? On first name terms with some country nobodies? And how do you know Mrs Bingley at all?”

“Mama, Mrs Bingley and Miss Bennet came to Pemberley last summer. Mr Bingley is Darcy’s best friend, and his wife is considered a close friend too. We liked both Jane and Elizabeth very much. We spent quite some time together. They are not country nobodies at all,” Anne responded with surprising determination.

The colonel stepped forward.

“Anne and Georgiana enjoyed the Bennet sisters’ company very much, as we all did. I trust they have enough wit and reason to acknowledge the quality of someone they call a friend.”

“Well, I know you have been smitten with Miss Bennet since you were in Kent,” Lady Catherine said, and both Anne and Georgiana blushed.

“I was not smitten with anybody, but I willingly admit I have admired Miss Bennet since I first met her. I believe we should try to enjoy ourselves as much as we can instead of wasting time with gossip and debate, since we decided to attend this ball. Or do you already regret your choice, Lady Catherine?” the colonel asked with concealed mockery.

“I would like to find a chair, as I do not intend to dance,” Anne said.

“Me too,” Georgiana added, and the colonel offered each an arm, leading them towards a couple of comfortable chairs from where they could have a full view of the room.

Lord Alveston was still holding Elizabeth’s hand while talking to his grandmother and greeting other guests.

∞∞∞

Caught in a nightmare worse than any before, Darcy kept glancing at Elizabeth—and Lord Alveston holding her hand. His eyes were so wide and his face so tense that he was beginning not to be able to bear the light and the music.

He had to do something to wake up. She could not truly be engaged! He could not be there to celebrate her betrothal to another man.

Then again, why not? He was engaged too. She had never wished for his good opinion, and she had already told him she would marry anyone else over him. ‘You were the last man in the world…’ Why should he be surprised if she married a man wealthier, with a better situation in life and likely more worthy of her admiration than him?

Everybody spoke about Lord Alveston’s poor health. Darcy did not know much about it, nor was he interested in finding out more details. She had chosen to marry him—that was enough to break the last unbroken piece of his heart.

He had to leave; he could not stay and pine for what was not his.

“Darcy, I am so happy to see you! I have called on you several times! When did you arrive in London?”

Bingley’s joyful and booming voice cut through his head like a blade. So much cheerfulness was unbearable.

“Only two days ago and we shall leave soon. I am glad to see you too, Bingley. I see Mrs Bingley looks lovely. I hope you are all well?”