Page 69 of Such Low Connections
“Now, now, dearest, your sister will not be interested in that,” Mr Wickham smoothly interrupted Lydia. “And in any case, we must go in to luncheon. Are you not hungry?”
“Oh, starving!” Lydia replied, taking her husband’s arm with enthusiasm. “Let us go now.”
Elizabeth trailed after them, looking at Lydia with some curiosity. She could not help wondering what her sister had been about to say, and yet likely Mr Wickham was correct, and she would do better not to enquire. If there were any details of the elopement so unpleasant that even he would blush over them, she ought not to know them.
As so often of late, Elizabeth found her thoughts going back to Mr Darcy. If, by chance, he learned of the patched-up wedding, he would be glad of the safety it had brought her. Though every tie between them must now be severed, he would have at least that much generosity of spirit. Though, knowing the infamy of her sister and the indelible connection to Mr Wickham, the name of Bennet must be abhorrent to him, he would nonetheless wish her well.
Elizabeth only wished she could have understood her own feelings sooner. Respect, even friendship, were too little to encompass what she felt for Mr Darcy. Nothing less than love would do.
And for love, it was already too late.
∞∞∞
“I will speak to Miss Elizabeth Bennet alone,” declared the majestic figure in brown and gold brocade, who had swept into Longbourn after banging loudly on the front door at almost nine o’clock at night, and then ignored Mrs Bennet’s every offer of hospitality. “I have come here with a purpose, Madame, and cannot be distracted from it.”
Awed by the unexpected arrival of Lady Catherine de Bourgh with her liveried coach and four with multiple footmen, Mrs Bennet could only curtsey in reply, while Mr Bennet looked on silently with amused and speculative eyes, finding in the great lady a figure of private fun.
Elizabeth herself was as surprised as her parents to find Lady Catherine on Longbourn’s doorstep, two nights following Mr and Mrs Wickham’s departure for Newcastle. She was also puzzled by the mood of their visitor and curious to know what had prompted either her journey or her fury.
Taking up a candelabra from the hallway, Elizabeth led their guest into the drawing room and closed the door.
“You know, of course, why I am here, young woman,” Lady Catherine began peremptorily.
“I do not know,” Elizabeth declared, folding her arms and preparing for what she sensed already was to be a battle.
“Do not play games with me, Miss Bennet. I warn you, I am not to be trifled with. I have travelled to Hertfordshire on two counts. Firstly, because of the rumours abroad that you and my nephew are engaged to be married —”
“Mr Darcy?” Elizabeth asked incredulously.
“Yes, Miss Bennet, the rumour concerns my nephew Mr Darcy, as you no doubt well know.”
“I take no part in evil gossip, Your Ladyship,” answered Elizabeth. “I cannot comment on what you have heard.”
“A likely story. My second reason for my intervention is on account of your undue influence over my nephew. Through unfortunate circumstances, I understand you are well aware of certain private family matters, including Lord Hexham’s harassment of Darcy and his sister. Do not think to blackmail my nephew into marriage through this knowledge without incurring my wrath. He is promised to my daughter!”
“I should not blackmail anyone into anything,” Elizabeth objected strongly to this odd accusation, while reflecting to herself that any promise of Mr Darcy to Miss de Bourgh likely existed only in Lady Catherine’s head. “Mr Darcy may surely marry as he pleases. I fail to see why you think I should influence him at all.”
“You know perfectly well the family infamy that would result if it were known that Lord Hexham had deliberately smeared his cousin’s name around thetonand in the gutter press, using stolen letters too!” Lady Catherine raged. “The stories of Ludlow Fitzwilliam’s debts alone would make a scandal. The rest is beyond imagining.”
Elizabeth could not quite stifle a gasp. Ludlow Fitzwilliam’s actions towards Georgiana were horrific enough. She had not imagined that the full story could be still worse. While Darcy had told her about the resolution of the campaign against him in outline, he had not made the name of his persecutor explicit. It all added up now.
“Yes, I can see that you would not want such details known,” Elizabeth said coolly. “Even so, this has nothing to do with me. The only person who might seek to publish any of what has occurred is surely Lord Hexham himself. I suggest you address yourself to him instead of me.”
“Headstrong, foolish girl!” Lady Catherine castigated Elizabeth. “You mock me at your peril. With the aid of physicians and lawyers, Ludlow Fitzwilliam is confined to Matlock Castle with a set of keepers. He can publish nothing. It is your intentions that concern me.”
“I am glad for Georgiana’s sake to hear that his relatives now have Lord Hexham under lock and key. As long as that is true, you may rely completely on my silence.”
This assurance seemed to soften Lady Catherine, if only slightly.
“We cannot keep him at Matlock forever,” she admitted. “But I trust it will be long enough to mend his ways. If I were a man, I would have horsewhipped him with my own hand for his offences against Georgiana. I do not hold with the abuse of young heiresses.”
Elizabeth nodded her agreement with this sentiment, admiring Lady Catherine’s strength and determination, if not the uses to which she put them.
“Very well, then. You have assured me of your silence on Darcy’s private family matters and claimed ignorance of the rumours of your engagement to him. Will you also assure me that you will never enter into an engagement with my nephew?”
“I shall not give any such assurance,” Elizabeth answered crisply and without hesitation, instinctively unwilling to give up that last small shred of hope. “Both now and in the future, I shall act entirely as my heart and conscience dictate.”
Any previous softening in Lady Catherine’s manner vanished, and she grew angrier than ever.
