Cousin Emma

by Perpetua Langley

  “A proposal,” Lady Catherine repeated. “I demand to know if one has been made.”

  “It would seem unlikely,” Elizabeth said, “as you yourself have painted it a slight attention.”

  “So, he has not proposed,” Lady Catherine said.

  “He has not,” Elizabeth said, wishing the lady out of the house and back into her carriage with all speed.

  “And were he to,” Lady Catherine pressed on, “you swear you would decline him?”

  This was really too much. Elizabeth had no intention of allowing this badger of a lady to push her into any such declaration.

  In a moment, it struck Elizabeth that it was not only the refusal to be bullied that would cause her to thwart Lady Catherine. She would not swear to decline Mr. Darcy because she really could not swear that she would.

  “Miss Bennet,” Lady Catherine said, her voice rising, “I insist you swear you would decline him.”

  Elizabeth felt her restraint slipping away. She gave in to her agitated feelings.

  “I will swear no such thing,” Elizabeth said. “Further, I do not presume to know how things are done in Kent, but in Hertfordshire we do not charge into houses making demands of strangers. You have said quite enough, and I have said all I will say. You may depart, your majesty.”

  As soon as she said it, Elizabeth wished she had not. As insulting as the lady was, there could be no excuse for taunting her. Especially not on Mary’s account, as her sister would be much in the company of Lady Catherine.

  Lady Catherine’s features underwent several transformations, from surprised, to affronted, to furious. “I have never been so insulted in my life! You have not heard the end of this and do not even imagine you will marry my nephew!” she said. The lady then turned and hobbled from the room.

  Elizabeth steadied herself with the back of a chair. She could not conceive of what sort of picture Mr. Collins had painted in his letter. The lady clearly believed that an engagement between her and Mr. Darcy was imminent.

  The idea caused a flutter in her stomach. Though it was sure to be a false report, an engagement felt as if it would not be unpleasant.

  In truth, it would be more than pleasant. She had not understood her own feelings for Mr. Darcy when the truth of Mr. Wickham had been revealed to her. She had wondered what they would be when they settled. They had settled, and she had done her best to ignore them. What use allowing herself to know them fully when there could be no possibility of…anything?

  Lady Catherine had forced her to examine those feelings. The lady had demanded that Elizabeth refuse Mr. Darcy, and she had not seen her way clear to do it. If he asked, she thought she might say yes. She knew she would say yes.

  Elizabeth pulled herself away from that ridiculous daydream. The whole idea was built on some silly letter that Mr. Collins had sent. The very last person to know anything of Mr. Darcy’s feelings would be Mr. Collins.

  Lady Catherine was mistaken, and Elizabeth found she was sorry for it.

  Mr. Bingley rushed back into the room as the clatter of Lady Catherine’s carriage drifted into the distance. He was quickly followed by the rest of the party.

  Mr. Collins appeared too overcome to speak and Mary helped him to a chair.

  Mr. Bingley said, “Are you all right, Miss Bennet?”

  “Certainly,” Elizabeth said, mustering her courage. “It was only an unpleasant interview, that is all.”

  “What was the subject, Lizzy?” Jane asked. “What cause could the lady have to see you at all?”

  Elizabeth forced a smile. “I will tell it to you someday, but it is of no consequence. Just a misunderstanding and I had rather not speak of it just now.”

  Mr. Bingley suddenly cried, “Good Lord, I would wager she’s on her way to Netherfield next. Darcy must be warned. I can ride through the fields and beat her carriage by a good fifteen minutes.”

  He kissed Jane’s hand and ran from the room.

  Elizabeth had a great urge to laugh and cry at the same time. The idea of Mr. Bingley racing his horse over hill and dale to warn Netherfield that a Kentish ogre approached was comical. What was less comical was the idea that Lady Catherine would have a conversation with Mr. Darcy that was even remotely similiar to the one she had just endured.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Darcy sat with Georgiana in front of a window overlooking Netherfield’s park. The morning had been one problem after the next—was there enough white soup, how many seats for supper, were any of the guests staying the night? Guests had been arriving from London and Darcy had little idea of what rooms they were meant to have. Tradesmen had been clattering up and down the drive all morning. Bingley, who by rights should have been fielding every question, had taken himself off to Longbourn directly after breakfast.

  Darcy could not really hold it against his friend. Had he been engaged to a daughter of Longbourn, he would no doubt be there too, careless of what responsibilities he left behind him.

  “I do so look forward to seeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” Georgiana said. “Jane Bennet, too, of course. Only think, Miss Jane Bennet is to be married. It will be as if the Darcys and the Bennets are distantly related through our friendship with Charles Bingley. I hope we see much of them after they are married. Perhaps they might come for Christmas.”

  “You like Miss Elizabeth Bennet exceedingly, I think,” Darcy said. It did not particularly surprise him that he and Georgiana should be of the same mind concerning Miss Bennet.

  “I do, brother,” Georgiana said. “I have known so few women near my own age. Well, so few that I would wish to emulate.”

  Darcy suppressed a smile. He knew perfectly well that his sister alluded to Miss Bingley. Georgiana did not wish to emulate Miss Bingley, and he was glad of it.

  The lady so recently alluded to walked into the drawing room. “Well,” Miss Bingley said, “I have managed to calm the cook’s temper though I do not understand half of what he complains of. Charles is ridiculous to be away at such a time.”

  “I suppose he could not bear to be parted from Miss Jane Bennet,” Georgiana said. “It is terribly romantic of him.”

  Miss Bingley sniffed, as if Jane Bennet were a subject she did not care to consider.

  In the distance, Darcy noted Bingley galloping with all speed across the park as if the devil were on his heels. Bingley reined in his horse, leapt down to the drive, and handed it off to a footman who’d come running from the house.

  “You may forgive your brother, Miss Bingley,” Darcy said. “He comes now, no doubt realizing his duties and prepared to take charge of them.”

  Mr. Bingley was soon in the room and came in with an alarming speed.

  Darcy laughed and said, “No need to be at the races, Bingley, we have things well in hand. Or at least, as well in hand as they ever are on the day of a ball.”

  Mr. Bingley heaved in breaths and leaned on the edge of a sofa. “Lady Catherine. She has been at Longbourn and I suspect makes her way here even now.”

  “Lady Catherine?” Georgiana said, her voice an octave higher than it had been.

  Miss Bingley only said, “I’d better check on cook.” She fled the room as fast as her brother had come into it.

  “There is no need for such alarm. It is a bother, I’ll not deny it,” Darcy said. “I should have known she’d make all haste to Hertfordshire to size up Mr. Collins’ choice of a wife. No doubt, she wishes to stay the night here. She might have written first.”

  Georgiana had risen. “Brother, I will just go above stairs and rest. I will greet our aunt after she has had her tea. She is always more cheerful after she has had tea.” She picked up her skirts and ran from the room.

  Darcy smiled at Bingley and said, “You can see the effect my aunt produces on my own relations. Do not fear, Bingley, it is unlikely she will present herself at your ball, she does not like them. She prefers holding court at a dinner table, not watching young people enjoy themselves. I predict she will be perfectly happy to have a tray in h
er room.”

  “No,” Bingley said, still catching his breath, “you have got it all wrong. It is not what you think. She did not speak to Mary Bennet. Lady Catherine demanded a private interview with Elizabeth Bennet. I do not know what they spoke of, other than Miss Bennet claimed it unpleasant. I do not doubt it, considering what a temper your aunt appeared to be in.”

  Darcy rose. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet? Lady Catherine? I do not understand.”

  “Nor do I, or any of us who were present. I also do not know for a fact that she comes here, it only seemed likely and I would warn you of it.”

  Darcy patted Bingley’s arm. “I thank you for it. I cannot comprehend why my aunt should seek out Miss Bennet, but I will get an explanation. It will be the worse for her if I discover she has insulted Miss Bennet.”

  The distant clatter of horses’ hooves sounded faintly in the room. “Here she comes,” Bingley said, it sounding very much like he’d announced the imminent arrival of Lucifer.

  Bingley looked around him. “Well I ought to do something round here. Elsewhere. In other rooms.” He eyed the drawing room door as if it were the last exit out of a fire.

  Darcy folded his arms. “We have things well in hand here, Bingley. Take my horse, as I suspect yours is winded, and return to Longbourn and your charming Jane Bennet.”

  Bingley gave his friend a grateful look and speedily left the room. Darcy watched Bingley squint down the drive and then run for the stables like a housebreaker who’d heard the servants raise an alarm.

  Shortly thereafter, Lady Catherine’s carriage rolled to a stop at the front door.

  Darcy did not go out to greet his aunt. She being uninvited and unexpected, he did not feel the need to do so. Rather, he allowed her to be shown into the drawing room.

  “Darcy,” she said, hobbling to him. “How do you do?”

  “Very well, aunt, though rather surprised to see you. I expect a letter you sent informing me of your arrival has gone astray somewhere.”

  “I sent no letter,” Lady Catherine said. “There was no time.”

  The lady sat herself heavily down and said, “Can one get tea in this house, despite it being taken by a family so recently in trade?”

  Darcy nodded to the hapless footman who’d had the bad luck to show Lady Catherine in. The boy left, appearing delighted to escape from the room.

  “Tea is usual, I believe,” Darcy said, “in every house in England, tradesman or no.”

  “I suppose there is a suitable room for me here, despite my aversion to it?” Lady Catherine said, casting a withering eye on the furniture.

  “I suppose so,” Darcy said, “though it would be good form if you gave Bingley the opportunity to invite you. It is not my house.”

  “Do not be ridiculous,” Lady Catherine said. “I can hardly be found to accept an invitation from a person so low. Just arrange the thing. Where is Georgiana?”

  “Resting,” Darcy said.

  The tea was hastily brought in and they were silent until the footman left the room and closed the door.

  “Aunt,” Darcy said, “do tell me the purpose of this visit. I have been made to understand that you have been to Longbourn and have seen Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”

  “Oh yes, I have been there, and never so ill-treated,” Lady Catherine said.

  “For what purpose did you go?” Darcy pressed.

  Lady Catherine put her cup down. “To stop you from making a terrible mistake.”

  Before Darcy could reply, Lady Catherine put her hand up. “Oh, do not bother attempting to put me off the subject. I know all about it from Mr. Collins’ letter. You have been rather too admiring of that little Miss Bennet.”

  Darcy was rather thunderstruck. How on earth had Mr. Collins divined his interest in Elizabeth Bennet? Had his aunt the temerity to bring up such a subject to Miss Bennet?

  “I told the girl, in no uncertain terms,” Lady Catherine went on, “that you are meant for a higher position than could be afforded by such an entirely unremarkable family as the Bennets.”

  “Did you?” Darcy said quietly.

  “I can assure you I did. The Bennets are all well and good for Mr. Collins, but a Darcy? It is absurd. Nephew, you should be very grateful I have arrived when I have. The girl is shockingly bold. I demanded an assurance from her that, should you completely lose your wits and issue any sort of proposal, she would very sensibly decline. She refused to say it. She defied me. Me!”

  Darcy caught his breath. Elizabeth Bennet had refused to say she would decline him? It was not a declaration of regard, but certainly, if she had no regard whatsoever, she would have happily obliged the lady. Perhaps his letter had produced some good effect.

  “Then,” Lady Catherine continued, “as if that were not enough, she demanded I depart the house and called me your majesty. It was not a compliment, I can assure you!”

  Darcy could not control his laughter. It was laughter of both happiness at discovering Miss Bennet would not say she would refuse him, and the utter comic vision of Miss Bennet calling his aunt your majesty. Though many had thought it, only a lady with such spark would have dared say it.

  “None of what I have just relayed is at all amusing, Darcy,” Lady Catherine said. “I fear this neighborhood has had some untoward influence on you.”

  “It has certainly had an influence,” Darcy said.

  “You know very well that you are to marry Anne,” Lady Catherine said. “I insist you cease whatever dalliance this is.”

  Darcy folded his hands and said, “Aunt, as I have mentioned so often, I have no intention of marrying Anne. I do, however, have every intention of marrying Miss Bennet, if she will have me. By the by, Anne much prefers Mr. Cresswell.”

  “Why does everybody keep saying that?” Lady Catherine cried.

  “Because everybody in the world knows it,” Darcy said drily. “Now, as you have been apprised of my plans, I am certain you should wish to continue on with your journey wherever it may take you. I imagine Bingley would prefer you out of the house, and I know I would. There is an inn not too far from here.”

  Lady Catherine’s cup clattered on its saucer. “This is how you would speak to me? You would throw over your own relations in favor of that little nobody?”

  Darcy was beginning to lose all patience. “I have discovered, Aunt, that there really is no such thing as a nobody. Further, I have learnt that being a somebody does not confer any special dispensation on how people are to be treated. Rather, individuals deemed important through money or title ought to pay special attention to their own inflated sense of worth. It generally is inflated, I have discovered.”

  “What bit of nonsense is this, I wonder?” Lady Catherine said.

  “It is a hard-earned lesson that I’ll not soon forget. Now, you had best be off. We have a ball this evening and I know you do not favor such things.”

  Lady Catherine rose. “I will take my leave but hear this: if you marry that girl our relations are at an end. You will not be welcome at Rosings, I could not allow it.”

  Darcy smiled, thinking how pleasant it would be to find himself banned from Rosings. The twice a year visits would be at an end, though his poor cousin would be left to bear the brunt of them alone and would not thank him for it. He, Fitzwilliam and Georgiana had been in the habit of arriving as a united front. Georgiana would be delighted to avoid the journeys to Rosings, though she would not dare say so.

  “Good day, Aunt. And do give my regards to Mr. Cresswell.”

  With that, he turned and strode from the room, highly satisfied with the interview.

  Elizabeth, Jane and Emma were in Jane’s bedchamber, looking over the ribbons Jane had managed to retrieve back from Lydia and Kitty.

  “What I find remarkable,” Emma said, “is that the moment I gave up matchmaking, Mr. Collins went off and did exactly what he was meant to do all along.”

  “He does not have any real feelings for Mary,” Elizabeth said. “Nor her for him. For all that, though
, I think they might get on well together. Mary goes into it with her eyes open, in any case.”

  “Mr. Collins certainly has had a remarkable influence on her playing,” Jane said. “It is vastly improved.”

  Elizabeth suppressed a smile. She had decided to keep her conversations with Mary to herself. Jane had never mocked Mary, and so there was nothing to correct there. As for Kitty and Lydia, no amount of lecturing would stop their teasing—informing them of Mary’s feelings would only cause them to tease her more.

  No, she would keep it to herself and vow to be a better sister going forward. When Mary went off to Hunsford, she would receive a letter from her sister every week. Elizabeth might wish to visit her as well, if it were not for Lady Catherine being in the vicinity. Letter writing would have to do, at least for now.

  She hoped, for Mary’s sake, that Lady Catherine would not transfer her obvious dislike for Elizabeth onto her sister. She planned to speak to Mary about the interview so that her sister might be forewarned. Elizabeth had little fear that Mary would be cowed by the great lady, though. Mary Bennet turned out to have quite the stiff backbone.

  Elizabeth still could not quite comprehend Lady Catherine’s extraordinary visit. The lady had traveled all the way from Kent to assure herself that there was no engagement between herself and Mr. Darcy.

  While Elizabeth hoped that Mr. Collins had written of something he had observed, she feared he’d written utter nonsense. He seemed to be full of nonsense so there was no reason to doubt that some of that nonsense had left the house in a letter. She briefly wondered if Mr. Collins’ exaggeration of Mr. Darcy’s attention might not have been a bid to impress the lady. Mr. Collins might suppose that hinting that her nephew viewed his own relations in a positive light might elevate his standing with his benefactress.

  Whatever Mr. Collins had written, she was very much afraid it had been discussed with Mr. Darcy. Mr. Bingley had returned from his mad ride to Netherfield with the news that she had indeed gone there.