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“Fitzwilliam!”
The word echoed from the terrace overlooking the gardens.
Elizabeth jumped, her fingers abandoning his instinctively.
They both turned their heads to the manor.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh stood on the terrace, swathed in a voluminous morning wrapper that resembled a royal tent, leaning on the stone balustrade, her face furious.
“Fitzwilliam!” she bellowed again. “I demand to know why the gravel on the carriage sweep has not been properly raked! I saw a leaf resting near the portico! This level of slovenliness is unacceptable!”
Mr Darcy blinked rapidly.
Elizabeth bit her lower lip, fighting the urge to collapse into a fit of hysterical laughter.
Mr Darcy cleared his throat. “It appears my aunt has risen.”
“And she is ready to seize the day,” Elizabeth agreed.
The courtship of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy had officially begun.
Chapter Six: Familial Support
Darcy offered Miss Elizabeth his arm for the walk back to the house. She took it with a composure that would have satisfied the most exacting matron, and only the pink at her cheeks betrayed what had passed among the roses. He matched his step to hers. The gravel of the sweep, so lately condemned, lay innocent in the morning sun. A single leaf remained near the portico. He made a note to have it removed before his aunt could summon a magistrate.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh had not waited on the terrace. She met them at the foot of the stone steps, the wrapper gathered about her person with the authority of a state robe, and she halted them as if the courtyard were her own antechamber.
“Fitzwilliam!” Lady Catherine’s volume disrupted the tranquil morning air. “What is the meaning of this undress?”
“Good morning, Aunt Catherine,” he offered. “I trust you slept well.”
“I did no such thing!” Lady Catherine pointed a finger at his chest. “I demand an explanation for your appearance! You are parading about the estate in your shirt sleeves! Where is your coat? Where is your cravat? You resemble a common labourer!”
“I was pruning the hydrangeas,” Darcy stated calmly.
The matriarch gasped. “Pruning! You are the master of Pemberley, Fitzwilliam! Gentlemen do not prune! They hire individuals with dirt under their fingernails to manage the foliage. You demean your station and you demean the memory of your ancestors by engaging in such menial toil!”
Miss Elizabeth’s fingers tightened a fraction on his sleeve. He kept his countenance as even as the steps before them.
“I assure you, Aunt, my dignity remains intact,” Darcy replied, his patience fraying at the edges. “I wished to inspect the shrubs you found so offensive yesterday afternoon. I have concluded they are healthy.”
“They are offensive to the eye, and you are offensive to propriety!” Lady Catherine declared. “And you, Miss Elizabeth! What possible business do you have roaming the grounds at this hour? A gentleman’s estate is not a public park for your early morning entertainments.”
Miss Elizabeth released his arm and curtsied.
“The gardens are magnificent, your ladyship,” she said politely. “I wanted to enjoy them before the heat of the day became too severe. I find the fresh air highly restorative.”
Lady Catherine searched for a flaw in the younger woman’s impeccable manners, but found none. “Fresh air is no excuse for improper company. You will return to your chambers, Miss Elizabeth. Breakfast will be served in one hour, and I expect you to appear in a more suitable gown. Yellow is inappropriate for a morning meal in Derbyshire.”
“Miss Elizabeth is my guest, Aunt. She may wear whatever colour she pleases.”
“I shall change for breakfast regardless, Mr Darcy,” Miss Elizabeth interrupted gently, offering him a reassuring smile that melted his rising anger. “Your aunt is correct. The dust from the garden has sullied my hem. I thank you for the pleasant conversation.”
Darcy bowed deeply. “The pleasure was mine, Miss Elizabeth.”
He offered his arm again and escorted her up the sweeping stone stairs, ignoring the continued, muttered complaints from his aunt. When they reached the entrance hall, Miss Elizabeth turned to him.
“I believe we have survived the first obstacle, sir,” she murmured.