Page 50 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"A fantasy," Darcy said. "My mother never mentioned it. It is a fabrication of Lady Catherine's will."

"Then tell her," the Earl said. "Be a man, Fitzwilliam. Write to her. Tell her you will not marry Anne. Stop lingering in this grey area. It is dishonourable."

"I... I intend to," Darcy stammered. "But the timing... with Christmas..."

"You are afraid of her," the Earl accused.

"I am not—"

"Well, I am," the Earl admitted frankly. "Terrifying woman. Shouts. Doesn't listen. I would rather face a firing squad than tell my sister she is wrong. But you have to do it, boy."

"He will not do it," Lady Matlock observed, looking at the three men with a mixture of pity and affection. "Look at them. Mice, not men. Robert runs from responsibility, Richard runs from wealthy widows, and Fitzwilliam runs from his own shadow. If Catherine walked in here right now, you would all hide under the table."

"I would not," Richard protested. "I would hide behind the sideboard. It offers better cover."

"Mice," she repeated, shaking her head. "We shall have to find you wives who can protect you."

Robert and Richard exchanged a look. Darcy stared at his plate, thinking of a woman who was definitely not a mouse, and who would likely eat Lady Catherine for breakfast.

The fish course arrived, and with it, the Countess's focus shifted. She had the instincts of a bloodhound.

"Fitzwilliam," she said, her voice dropping to a deceptively conversational tone. "You are not eating. And you have that lookyou get when you are evading. It is the same look you had when you were ten and broke the vase in the hallway."

"I am hiding nothing, Aunt."

"He is pining," Richard offered helpfully, earning another kick under the table, this time from Robert.

"Pining?" Her eyes lit up. "For whom? Is she suitable? Does she have teeth?"

"She has excellent teeth and fine eyes," Robert murmured into his wine glass.

"Fine eyes?" She looked at Darcy. "Fitzwilliam? Is this true? Have you found someone?"

"It is complicated," Darcy managed. "We are merely acquainted."

"Where did you meet?"

"Hertfordshire," Georgiana piped up. She had been silent until now, but she beamed at her aunt. "She is wonderful, Aunt. I met her today."

The table went silent. The Earl lowered his fork.

"You met her today?" she asked sharply. "In London? Where is she staying?"

Darcy's heart stopped. He turned to Robert, pleading silently.Do not say Cheapside. Do not say Cheapside.

"She is staying with family," Robert cut in smoothly. "In the City. Near the legal district."

It was a half-truth, but it held.

"A solicitor's family," the Earl grunted, and no one corrected the assumption. "Respectable enough. Not landed gentry, but better than a poet."

"And her name?" she pressed.

"Miss Bennet," Georgiana said. "Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Bennet," the Earl mused. "Longbourn Bennets? I knew a Bennet once, in Cambridge. Odd fellow. Liked books more than people. I owe him money."

"That is the one," Darcy said quickly. "Her father."