Page 31 of Roses from Pemberley
At length, she heard the sounds of the front door being opened followed by voices in the entry hall. They were louder for a while, then grew fainter as the guests were taken into the parlour. She sat absently on the bed and thought to herself,Lady Catherine cannot possibly be here to call on me…can she?
For a while all the voices were muffled and at times inaudible. But after a period of about ten minutes, she heard footsteps in the hallway. Presently Charlotte came in and asked if she was well.
“I am improving steadily,” she said cautiously.
“Are you well enough to receive visitors? Or rather, Lady Catherine?”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide and she swallowed. She never thought that Lady Catherine was particularly fond of her but she could not possibly refuse such an honour as a visit from the great lady.
“Do you think that I am presentable?” she asked.
Charlotte regarded her closely, then moved a few strands of her hair away from her face. “Yes, you shall do, Elizabeth. I shall have Mary bring in an extra chair, so the two of you may converse.
Elizabeth nodded then Charlotte left. She wondered if somehow Lady Catherine had heard about Darcy’s proposal and was now there to upbraid her, perhaps ask her to give him up. She would not blame her if she did. She could imagine Lady Catherine telling her how her daughter was meant for Darcy and how it had been planned from their infancy. She could even imagine Lady Catherine insulting her relatives and her ties to trade. Then telling her how she might pollute the shades of Pemberley were she to become Darcy’s wife. Elizabeth began to feel slightly panicked after that, as she awaited Lady Catherine’s arrival.
Eventually Charlotte entered and Elizabeth rose to greet her honoured guest.
“Miss Bennet,” she said as she walked in and was shown to the comfortable armchair, “I am glad you are better.”
Elizabeth sat in the other chair and faced her. “I am honoured by your visit, Lady Catherine.”
Surprisingly, Mary returned with a vase full of flowers - the same flowers that she had seen Bingley carrying earlier - and put them down on a nearby table.
“These are for you, Miss Elizabeth,” said Lady Catherine.
“They are?”
Lady Catherine looked curiously at her before answering, “Yes. Why would you think otherwise? They came from my garden and were picked this morning.”
Elizabeth, who recalled who was carrying them earlier, only said, “I assumed that they were from Mr. Bingley…to Jane."
“Well, it was Darcy who picked them,” said Lady Catherine. “And they are from him. To you.”
“Mr. Darcy!”
“Yes, I just said so. He asked me to give them to you.”
Elizabeth was stunned. That Darcy would pick the flowers in the first place. And that Lady Catherine would deign to deliver them for him.
“Does it surprise you that he would pick them for you?” asked Lady Catherine.
Elizabeth did not know how to answer without offending Mr. Darcy. But she was indeed surprised, and so murmured, “Yes…and that you would deliver them.”
Lady Catherine looked at her impassively. “Perhaps itishard to believe, but he has indeed picked them. And here I am, as you see.”
“I am very honoured that you came.”
“As you should be,” said Lady Catherine.
“And please thank Mr. Darcy for the flowers.”
“Yes, I shall. But perhaps you might thank him yourself, when next you see him.”
Elizabeth, who had not seen him in over a week, answered her with a question. “Is Mr. Darcy well?”
“He is.”
Elizabeth stared once more at the flowers, and hoped that Lady Catherine would speak more about Mr. Darcy.
