“What precisely were the rumours that sent you haring off, Cathy?” Lord Matlock asked.
Lady Catherine huffed. “My rector, Mr. Collins, is cousin to the Bennets—”
Lady Matlock shot Darcy an annoyed glance, and Darcy suppressed a wince. He had not yet managed to divulge Mr. Collins’s identity, though he had had every intention of doing so, and now his aunt likely believed he had been hiding the information. He suppressed a sigh.
“—and is promised to a Miss Charlotte Lucas, a local woman here. Her father is engaged in a correspondence with Mr. Collins and wrote of the likelihood of a union between Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Mr. Collins immediately informed me of the rumours and said Sir William Lucas had supported them with your presence. I knew at once that something was amiss or you would not have bothered to come.” She turned her vitriolic glare on Lady Matlock. “You have ever endeavoured to steal that which has been Anne’s since birth. I knew it was imperative that I come at once.”
“Now, Cathy—” Lord Matlock began.
“Be silent, Rupert!” she thundered. “I will hear the truth of these rumours from Darcy himself.” She turned to her nephew.
“I have never agreed to marry Cousin Anne,” Darcy said firmly. “I do not wish to marry Cousin Anne.”
Lady Catherine grasped her chest as though he had shot her. “Nephew! This trollop has made you forget all sense of duty to your family! It was the dearest wish of your mother that you unite Pemberley and Rosings.”
“My mother never said as much to me—a fact that I have explained to you on several occasions, Madam,” Darcy ground out. “I will not marry Cousin Anne.”
“You have forgotten your duty!” Lady Catherine snarled.
“I have a responsibility to ensure my tenants are well-cared for, a duty my wife must take up and a duty which Cousin Anne is too sickly to perform,” Darcy shot back.
Lady Catherine turned to Lady Matlock. “This is all your fault,” she said, her eyes narrowed. “You have ever tried to separate them. Though why you would support such a horrid girl—you do not seriously intend to allow Darcy to become related to my rector, do you? You must not have known the facts before you decided to put in your oar. I have told you countless times, Charlotte, that you are too quick to act,” she scolded.
Lady Matlock huffed. “I did not introduce Darcy to Miss Elizabeth, although I do find her to be a lovely young woman.”
“That harridan refused to accept Anne’s prior claim! She said that Darcy’s wife would be so happy that she would have no cause to repine even if his entire family disowned him and society shunned them. I have never been so insulted in all my life!”
Darcy’s heart lifted and began trying to beat its way free from his chest. Elizabeth had said that? Countless times over the past weeks she had indicated her growing love for him, but did this mean that she was ready to marry him despite all?
“—She only laughed when I told her that her future was bleak indeed if she stayed her course,” Lady Catherine continued, “and said that I did not know the future, and even if I did, it was not set in stone. The insufferable chit could not be brought to any sense of wrongdoing!”
A smile broke over Darcy’s face. That sounded rather like she believed his vision!
“And why should she?” Lady Matlock said severely. “You appear to have forsaken all the rules of polite society in order to abuse her into submitting to you, despite your lack of claim.”
Lady Catherine’s face grew florid and her bosom swelled. “I will not have you abusing my sister in this manner—if Anne were alive—”
“If Anne were alive, she would want Darcy happily married to a woman of good sense,” Lady Matlock said, overriding whatever Lady Catherine intended to say. She stared at Darcy for a moment, then returned her gaze to Lady Catherine. “And I, for one, believe Miss Elizabeth would be just the sort of person she would love.”
Warmth suffused Darcy’s chest as the woman closest to being his mother proclaimed her support. As one of the last barriers to marriage with Elizabeth fell away, he felt lighter than ever.
“Anne never was very intelligent in matters of matrimony and look where it got her!” Lady Catherine snapped. “Married to a title-less nobody—”
“—Whose property and wealth you have ever coveted,” Lady Matlock said in strident tones. “I am surprised that you did not chase George Darcy yourself.”
Lady Catherine paled.
“You did, didn’t you?” Lady Matlock crowed. “And George fell for Anne instead. That’s what this is all about!”
Lady Catherine smoothed her skirts. “You speak of that which you do not know, but, no matter, I know what is best for the Fitzwilliam name, and it is not for Darcy to form a connection with a tradesman’s niece, nor to become cousin to my rector. Such low connections can not be borne!”
“The ton will not hold those against him if I do not,” Lady Matlock said firmly.
Lady Catherine’s eyes went wide. “You cannot be serious! Though I have always had reservations about your marriage to my brother and the low behaviour your family has consistently engaged in, I had not thought you so lost to duty as this, despite your lack of a title prior to marrying above your station.”
“Darcy has found a woman of good sense who loves him and who will do an excellent job of taking care of his tenants, and I—”
“Rupert! You cannot have lost your sense, or has your wife so ensnared you that you are lost to her blandishments?” Lady Catherine screeched, turning her hysterical gaze on Lord Matlock.
Lord Matlock cleared his throat and waited, allowing silence to fill the room. “As I have told Darcy, were her family of a higher position, I would have no difficulty in supporting his marriage to Miss Elizabeth.”
Lady Catherine clutched at her throat. “But, Anne!”
Lord Matlock held up a hand and waited until she subsided. “And, as I have told Lottie, Darcy is a grown man. He is not dependent on us, and I, for one, would rather grudgingly support him than suffer a rupture in our relationship with him,” he said, turning to Darcy and giving him a loving nod. He held Darcy’s gaze. “Particularly if he will consent to an engagement of at least three months.”
Darcy gave a tight nod. He hated the idea of waiting for such a long time, but the joy of his uncle’s support far outweighed his frustration in this moment. In later days, he suspected he would curse his acquiescence, but for now, he was content to agree.
Lady Catherine spluttered, but, with what appeared to be an extreme effort, she marshalled herself. “Fine! Darcy can throw away his life on this avaricious slattern, but, mark my words, he will live to regret it. This—this woman is a flirt of the worst sort! She threw herself at Mr. Collins and then rejected his proposal. And this is the sort of person you would bestow the Fitzwilliam name upon?”
“I will thank you not to continue your accusations against Miss Elizabeth,” Darcy said in icy tones. “I love her and intend to marry her and, unless you wish for a permanent estrangement between us, you should be cautious of how you speak of her.”
“Besides,” Fitzwilliam added, jumping in as though he feared what Darcy would do in his rage, “turning down Mr. Collins only shows her good sense and that she hasn’t a mercenary bone in her body. I’m not sure I could have respected her if she had accepted Mr. Collins. They would have dealt extremely poorly together,” he added reflectively.
“She has bewitched you as well!” Lady Catherine shrieked.
Lord Matlock stood. “You are overwrought, Cathy, but do not go making accusations towards my son in your distress.” He strode to the bellpull and rang for a servant. “Let me get you some tea,” he said soothingly. “And we can talk about this more without the young people here.” He gestured for Darcy, Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana to rise and ushered them to the door. “Go secure your young lady,” he murmured to Darcy with a wink.
A grin broke over Darcy’s face, and he bowed to his uncle. “Yes, sir,” he replied just as quie
tly. Behind him, Lady Catherine continued spluttering and haranguing, but Darcy walked away, his heart already halfway to Longbourn and Elizabeth.
◆◆◆
Apollo halted, waiting at the turnoff to Longbourn, and Darcy shook himself. He barely recalled taking his leave of Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, who had promised to delay Aunt Catherine should it be necessary, and going to the stables, let alone reaching Longbourn. A sudden fear gripped him: what if Elizabeth turned him down? What if she looked at him with loathing in her eyes and proclaimed that he was the last man in the world that she would ever marry?
No, that Elizabeth was gone, he reminded himself. They had both lost that version of themselves to the growth they had experienced. If nothing else, Elizabeth would gently turn him down, either because she was not ready or because she could not accept his vision.
His aunt’s words floated back to him, buoying him forward. She said that Darcy’s wife would be so happy that she would have no cause to repine even if his entire family disowned him and society shunned them.
Before he knew it, he was standing at the door to Mr. Bennet’s library, his fingers trembling as he waited for the maid to announce him.
“Mr. Darcy,” she stated, and he walked in.
Mr. Bennet strode around his desk and shook Darcy’s hand. For a moment, disorientation washed over Darcy as though he were seeing double and not quite sure which was real. Though he had spent much time in Mr. Bennet’s library over the past week, Mr. Bennet had always walked with him up from the sitting room. The contrast between Mr. Bennet’s absentminded and languid greetings in this room before Miss Lydia’s kidnapping and his greeting now could not have been more marked.
Mr. Bennet gestured for Darcy to take a seat at one of the chairs in front of the desk, then seated himself in his chair. “What can I do for you today, Mr. Darcy? I assume it is something particular since you have not brought your entourage to call.”
All the moisture in Darcy’s mouth fled, and he swallowed, trying to speak without croaking. “I have come for two reasons. First, I wish to ascertain whether my Aunt Catherine was—impolite, particularly to Miss Elizabeth, and to apologise if she was.”
Mr. Bennet’s brow furrowed. “Not that I am aware of, though she spoke with Lizzy privately. Ought I to be concerned?
“I have reason to believe that my aunt came for the express purpose of dissuading Miss Elizabeth from marrying me and may have been less than diplomatic in her manners.”
“I shall have to ask Lizzy.” His lips turned up in a faint smile. “My girl can hold her own though. I doubt it was more than a source of entertainment to her.” Mr. Bennet leaned forward. “I must say, I had not expected to meet all your relatives when you arrived at Netherfield.”
“I did not expect them to visit me here,” Darcy said wryly. “I am afraid my courtship with Miss Elizabeth has caused some—consternation among my family.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyes narrowed. “And have you come to break your courtship with Lizzy?”
“Not at all!” Darcy replied, his heart skipping a beat. “I would be a fool to break my courtship over the matter of my family’s disapproval, particularly in the face of Miss Elizabeth’s excellence.”
“Perhaps not such a fool,” Mr. Bennet murmured, his eyes unfocused. He shook himself and returned his attention to Darcy. “I believe gaining one’s family’s approval is a useful exercise before one gets married.”
“I agree, sir. I would not wish for Miss Elizabeth to be made miserable by their disapproval, which is why I am glad to let you know that I have the approval of my uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady Matlock.”
Mr. Bennet’s eyebrows shot up.
“Which brings me to the second reason for my visit.” Darcy took a deep breath. “I request a private audience with Miss Elizabeth.”
Mr. Bennet leaned back in his chair, studying the young man before him.
Darcy tried to conceal his nerves as he held the man’s gaze. If Mr. Bennet refused to allow him access to Elizabeth once again . . . .
Mr. Bennet sighed heavily. “Perhaps, when you have daughters, you will understand Mr. Darcy. I do not wish to lose my Lizzy, but, if I must, I could not lose her to a worthier young man.” He stood. “I shall fetch her.”
It was some time before Mr. Bennet returned and Darcy found himself studying the library, visually tracing the lines of ledgers that had become familiar over the past few days and noting the paperwork Mr. Bennet had now stacked in neat piles. Fear and joy warred in his breast in equal measure. When he awoke after his vision, he could not imagine a greater joy than seeing Elizabeth alive, but now, on the verge of gaining her hand in marriage, he could not imagine leaving Hertfordshire without her. She had once teased that he sounded as though he intended to buy property in the area. If she rejected him today . . . if she needed more time, he might do just that. He had learned from his mistakes, and he would never leave Elizabeth again even if she rejected him. He would stay and fight for her hand in person, rather than leaving her with nothing more than a letter and bitter memories.
Darcy took a deep breath, clenching his hands into fists and then relaxing them. He could do this. He had learned to be more proactive. The door opened, and Darcy’s gaze shot to where Mr. Bennet was ushering Elizabeth in, a look of bewilderment spread over her features.
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth greeted.
“I will return in ten minutes,” Mr. Bennet warned, then exited.
“Are you—are you well?” Darcy asked, barely able to hear his own voice over the drum in his chest.
Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. “Yes, and you?”
Darcy took a step towards her. “I must admit that I have been concerned for you this morning.”
“Oh?” she asked, her gaze dropping to her feet.
“I am afraid that my Aunt Catherine was not content with browbeating you. She rushed to Netherfield and demanded that I put an end to your pretensions at once.”
Elizabeth’s breath hitched.
“Elizabeth, I am so sorry that you were attacked in such a manner. It was not fair, nor was it polite.” A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “A fact that Lady Matlock was determined to impress upon her.”
“She was?”
“Yes, I almost wish you had been there. I think you would have enjoyed watching those two scuffle.”
“I may have,” she murmured.
Darcy’s frown grew. “Are you all right?”
“Lady Catherine is correct,” Elizabeth said abruptly. “I am not the sort of wife expected for a member of the ton.”
Darcy took another step towards her. “A fact I am infinitely grateful for.”
She turned startled eyes on him.
“As I told my Aunt Matlock, I do not wish to marry a proper young lady who can paint china and host balls but who does not have the faintest idea who Plato is or how to care for tenants—nor the inclination to learn. A woman who does not make me laugh, or make my sister smile.”
“But I—”
Darcy stepped to an arm’s length from her and took her hand. “Elizabeth, you are the woman I love, the woman whom I had long given up ever finding. I have rattled around society for long enough to know that you are a pearl beyond price.”
Rosy hues appeared in Elizabeth’s cheeks.
“I came here today to ensure that you were well after my aunt’s visit, but I also came because I cannot bear to continue on as we have been. I will not spend another day separated from you even in the few minutes we are in the same room.”
Elizabeth gave a small laugh. “And so you intend to ask for private audiences every day? My mother will become suspicious, you know.”
Darcy cupped her cheek. “I miss you. When I am away from you, it is as though all the colours have gone out of my day. As torturous as it is to be in your presence but unable to speak to you, it is a greater torture to be absent from you.”
Elizabeth leaned into his touch. “I have missed you as well, Will.”
&nb
sp; “Today, my aunt’s words gave me hope such as I have never known.”
A frown crossed Elizabeth’s face. “I am afraid that I do not understand. Your Aunt Matlock?”
Darcy shook his head. “No, my Aunt Catherine. She repeated some of what you told her, and I,” he gulped, “I came today to ask if you believe my vision now.”
Elizabeth gave a slight nod. “How could I do otherwise when Charlotte agreed to marry Mr. Collins and Lydia ran off with Mr. Wickham, events that I believed nearly impossible, and yet they came to pass?” She hesitated. “In fact, I have found that I am—grateful for your vision.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. “Grateful?”
“Yes, how could I be otherwise? Not only have you saved my sister with the knowledge gained from it, but I,” she hesitated, “I am not the same person I was. I had not realised how badly I had treated you until you changed so drastically. You were right when you said that I sit back and watch people like my father. I was content to live in frustration rather than to work to better my family. But you—” she turned eyes full of wonder on him, “you have seen the best in them and helped them to change. You have used your vision to ensure that future does not come to pass.” Her gaze shifted to study the floor. “I will always be grateful that you came into my life.”
“No more grateful than I am,” Darcy proclaimed. He gently lifted her chin, bringing her eyes up to meet his. “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, I come before you not as Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, but as the man whose character you reformed, the man who loves you more than I can express. Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?”
Elizabeth’s eyes grew wide as though she had not expected such a turn of the conversation. Then a smile broke across her face, and tears sparkled in her eyes. “Yes.”
The world seemed to stop as she spoke, and Darcy could hardly believe his ears. With his heart leaping in joy, he gently pulled her into his arms. “You have made me the happiest of men today.”
“No happier than I am,” Elizabeth replied with a glad sigh.
“May I kiss you?” Darcy asked, looking deeply into her eyes.
A Vision of the Path Before Him Page 57
