20. Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty

The grand carriage pulled up outside Darcy House, the de Bourgh coat of arms emblazoned on its side. The liveried footman jumped down to open the door, and Lady Catherine de Bourgh stepped out, her head held high. She was resplendent in a rich green velvet pelisse trimmed with fur, her bonnet a towering confection of feathers and lace. She swept up the steps to the front door, her footman hurrying to keep up with her. Darcy House was an imposing mansion in the best part of London, a tall, elegant building of white stone. The front door was flanked by two columns, and the windows were tall and wide, hinting at the wealth and status of the family within.

Lady Catherine did not pause to admire the house, though she had not been here in many years. She was on a mission, and she would not be swayed. As the footman rapped on the door, she stood with her back straight, her expression set in one of determination.

The butler opened the door, bowing deeply.

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh," the footman announced.

"Lady Catherine," the butler said, bowing again. "Please, come in. Miss Darcy is at home."

Lady Catherine swept past him without acknowledging he had even spoken. She strode down the hall, her skirts swishing around her ankles, and the butler had to hurry to catch up with her. He led her to the drawing room, opening the door and announcing her. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh."

Georgiana Darcy was standing in the middle of the room, her hands clasped tightly together. Lady Catherine took in the sight of her niece. Georgiana was a tall girl, and she had grown into a beauty. She was dressed in a simple white muslin gown, her hair neatly arranged in a knot at the back of her head. She was trembling, her hands shaking, and her voice quivered as she tried to speak. "Aunt Catherine, I –"

"Where is Darcy?" Lady Catherine cut Georgiana off before she had even managed to stammer out her greeting. "I need to speak with him immediately."

"Oh, but…"

"Immediately, girl! Fetch my nephew, at once," Lady Catherine ordered, turning to the butler.

"He isn't here."

Georgiana's voice was quiet, but it was no longer shaking, and Lady Catherine swung back around to frown at her niece .

"What do you mean, not here? Where is he, then?"

Georgiana straightened her back and lifted her chin bravely. "Your pardon, Aunt Catherine, but we had no notice that you planned to visit, or my brother would surely have been here to greet you. As we have a house full of female guests at the moment, my brother has chosen for propriety's sake to stay with his friend Mr. Bingley. I can have a note sent over to advise him you are here."

Furious at being thwarted in her immediate goal of confronting her nephew, and somewhat irritated by Georgiana apparently having grown a spine in the last year or so, Lady Catherine changed tack. "Ah yes, your guests! I will see Miss Elizabeth Bennet at once, then."

Georgiana blinked. "You know Miss Elizabeth, Aunt Catherine?"

"Certainly not, and I have no wish to, but I will speak to her nevertheless. Now where is she?"

"I am right here, ma'am," a cool voice said, and from a chair near the window a young woman stood, a book in her hand. "Lady Catherine de Bourgh, I presume?" One dark eyebrow arched insolently.

Briefly taken aback by the young woman's apparent insouciance, Lady Catherine quickly rallied. "Miss Bennet, I have a few words to say to you." She advanced on the girl, her skirts swishing. "You have been plotting to entrap my nephew, have you not?"

Elizabeth blinked. "I beg your pardon, my lady?"

"You heard me, girl! You have been scheming and plotting to entrap Darcy into marriage!" Lady Catherine's eyes were wild with fury. "You rejected a perfectly suitable proposal from Mr. Collins, that would have secured the future of your entire family, in the hopes of ensnaring my nephew! I have heard all about you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, and I will not have it! You will renounce any interest you have in my nephew immediately!" She made a sharp, dismissive gesture .

Elizabeth's chin came up. "I am afraid, Lady Catherine, that you are labouring under a misapprehension. I have no intention of entrapping Mr. Darcy into marriage. Indeed, Mr. Darcy has made no indication that he has any intention of marrying me."

"Of course he does not!" Lady Catherine exclaimed. "You are beneath him! He would never consider you!"

"Then you have nothing to fear, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth said coolly.

Lady Catherine's face was red. "You will renounce any interest you have in him, Miss Bennet, or I will make you sorry!"

Outside, a second carriage was drawing up before Darcy House. This one, unlike Lady Catherine's ostentatious monstrosity, was elegant and understated, gleaming black with the Matlock crest discreetly painted on the door. The coachman jumped down from his seat and opened the door, bowing as Lord and Lady Matlock descended.

They were greeted by the butler and led into the house, where the tension in the air was palpable. Silently, the butler led them to the drawing-room.

"You will renounce any interest you have in him, Miss Bennet, or I will make you sorry!"

Lord and Lady Matlock heard Lady Catherine's shrill voice as they approached, and then a calm, firm voice, which they assumed to be Miss Elizabeth Bennet's. "I am afraid, Lady Catherine, I cannot oblige you. "

Lord Matlock exchanged a glance with his wife. It appeared that Lady Catherine had taken matters into her own hands. This was a delicate situation indeed. He had met Miss Elizabeth Bennet on a few occasions and had been impressed with her wit and intelligence. He had no doubt, though, that Lady Catherine would not be so easily swayed. Stepping forward, he cleared his throat loudly to attract his sister's attention.

Lady Catherine's face was flushed an unbecoming shade of red, her hands gesticulating sharply. "You will do as I say, girl!" she shouted, and then turned, her voice rising, "Henry, Helen, you must speak to Darcy! He is not here, but you must make him see sense! He cannot be so taken in by this little hussy as to..." She shook her head in disgust.

Lord Matlock raised one eyebrow. "Catherine," he said, his voice cool, "I think you have said quite enough."

Elizabeth stood tall, her hands steady at her sides. "Lord Matlock, Lady Matlock, good afternoon." She did not curtsy, and Lady Matlock did not blame her. "I am afraid I cannot oblige Lady Catherine in this matter."

"And indeed, you shall not," Lady Matlock said calmly. "Catherine is being quite ridiculous."

" Ridiculous !" Lady Catherine's voice rose to a shriek. "Helen, you cannot mean you will countenance this! Henry, you must speak to Darcy, make him see sense! He cannot possibly marry this..." She cast about for an appropriately damning word. "This nobody !"

Lord Matlock drew himself up to his full height, towering over his sister. "Catherine, Darcy's decisions are his own and not subject to interference."

"The shades of Pemberley shall not be thus polluted!" Lady Catherine shouted back at him. "How can you disrespect our sister's memory in this way? It was Anne's dearest wish that… "

"No, it was not," Lord Matlock cut her off firmly. "Anne was quite disapproving of the idea of cousins marrying, if you recall. She talked me out of proposing to our cousin Julia, which was a blessing I will be forever thankful for." He cast a quick smile at Lady Matlock. "She would certainly not approve of her son marrying his first cousin."

Lady Catherine's reaction to Lord Matlock's firm denial of her appeal was a sight to behold. Her face flushed an even deeper red, her nostrils flaring. For a moment, Elizabeth thought she might actually stamp her foot.

"I take no leave of any of you," she said coldly. "You deserve none." She cast one more look of spite in Elizabeth's direction, and then she turned sharply, her skirts rustling with the movement, and swept out of the drawing room with her head held high.

Her footsteps echoed through the hall, quick and determined. She did not spare a glance for the housemaids and footmen she passed, all of whom shrank back against the walls. "Have my carriage brought around immediately," she snapped at the butler, who bowed and hurried to comply.

The atmosphere at Darcy House changed palpably the moment Lady Catherine left.

Elizabeth stood stock-still for a moment, breathing deeply and willing her heart to stop racing. She had faced down Lady Catherine, but she had no illusions about what had really saved her. She turned first to Lord Matlock. "My lord," she said, her voice steadying. "I thank you for your intervention."

She turned then to Lady Matlock. "My lady, I thank you also." She glanced around the drawing room, which suddenly seemed much brighter, the sunlight streaming in through the windows, the elegant furniture less intimidating. Georgiana was still trembling, but she was beginning to calm down, and Elizabeth felt a surge of gratitude. She would have to make her thanks plain, but she knew she could never express how grateful she was that Lord and Lady Matlock had arrived when they did.

"Oh Elizabeth," Lady Matlock said warmly, stepping forward and taking her hands. "You did not need us at all. Catherine has no power over you. Nor you, Georgiana." She cast a look at her niece, who sank into a chair, pressing her hands to her face.

"Miss Elizabeth looked to have the situation well under control before we even arrived," Lord Matlock said, taking the seat beside Georgiana and patting her shoulder comfortingly. "Very impressive, I must say." His expression was kind as he looked up at Elizabeth and added, "Miss Elizabeth, you have nothing to fear from us. I want you to know that Darcy has our full support in his courtship of you."

His tone was gentle, and Elizabeth felt a swell of relief wash over her. Her eyes welled up slightly, and she blinked quickly to clear them.

Lady Matlock nodded in agreement, her expression warm and understanding. "Indeed, Elizabeth," she said. "Henry and I have both long believed you would make an excellent wife for Darcy."

Elizabeth hesitated a moment, before forcing a brave smile. "I can only tell you what I told Lady Catherine; that Mr. Darcy has given me no indication that he intends to marry me."

There was a brief silence, and then Lord Matlock gave a short, chortling laugh. "In that case, my dear," he said, rising and moving towards her, placing both hands on her shoulders before stooping and kissing her cheek gently, "my nephew is an idiot."

Elizabeth did not quite know what to say in response to that, so she looked away, and met Georgiana's eyes. The younger girl was still pale, but her trembling had ceased, and she managed a smile as Elizabeth looked at her .

"You were so strong and brave," Georgiana said, her eyes wide. "I have never seen anyone stand up to my aunt like that."

Elizabeth smiled gently as she took a seat beside her young friend. She took Georgiana's hands in hers, noting the contrast between Georgiana's cold fingers and her own steady grip.

"Georgiana," she said, her tone soothing, "I must thank you for your presence today. You have been such a good friend to me, and I could not have faced Lady Catherine without you by my side."

Georgiana's eyes widened even more, and she looked up at Elizabeth, her expression slowly changing from anxiety to relief.

"Oh, Elizabeth," she said finally, and Elizabeth squeezed her hands gently.

"Don't worry, Georgiana," she said softly. "Everything will be all right."

Darcy and Bingley walked to Darcy House that morning, planning to join the Bennet ladies for luncheon. Bingley and Jane's wedding was to take place the following day - despite his enthusiasm for the task, Bingley had not been able to immediately secure a clergyman to perform the ceremony, but finally one had been found. Bingley's sisters and Mr. Hurst had been invited to the wedding, and were expected to arrive that afternoon. Darcy's resolution never to spend another night beneath the same roof as Caroline Bingley meant he would remove to the Matlocks, and his valet was even at that moment packing his belongings .

For now, Darcy and Bingley were enjoying each others' company, on this, Bingley's last day as a bachelor. They strode along the street, dodging swept piles of snow and laughing, at least until Darcy spied a familiar carriage at the curb outside Darcy House and the laughter died on his lips.

"That is my aunt's carriage!"

"Lady Matlock?" Bingley inquired obtusely.

"No… Lady Catherine! What is she doing here?" Darcy quickened his pace, but before he could reach the carriage, Lady Catherine came storming out of Darcy House, down the steps, and the footman handed her up into the carriage. The coachman whipped up the horses and they were gone, leaving Darcy wondering why Lady Catherine would have come at all. A sense of foreboding overwhelmed him and he hurried up the steps and inside the house, past the butler whose grim expression boded ill.

"Darcy," Lord Matlock said as Darcy rushed into the drawing room. Darcy took in the scene quickly – Elizabeth sitting side by side with Georgiana on the sofa, the girl's hands clasped in hers, wide-eyed and pale. Lady Matlock seated nearby, a faint smile on her lips.

"Well, nephew," Lord Matlock said, "it seems we have had quite the morning."

"Indeed," Darcy said, his voice flat. He could not look at Georgiana, at Elizabeth, not yet. His fists clenched by his sides, he forced out, "Miss Elizabeth. You must forgive my aunt. She should not have come here –"

"She has been trying to lay the law down to us all, Darcy," Lady Matlock exclaimed.

"Indeed," Lord Matlock said, a little dryly. "She does not seem to understand that you are a grown man and can and will make your own decisions. "

Darcy's jaw clenched. He looked at Elizabeth at last, who met his gaze steadily, and then Georgiana, who was trying hard not to tremble. "Elizabeth, Georgiana," he said, his tone softening, "are you both quite well?"

"I am well," Elizabeth said, her tone steady, "but Georgiana..."

"I'm all right, Fitzwilliam," Georgiana said bravely. She tried to smile, but it wobbled.

Darcy's face tightened. He glanced again at Elizabeth, who gave him the tiniest of nods. "I apologise for her interference. I assure you it will not happen again."

"Well, Darcy," Lord Matlock said, settling back into his chair. "I must say, I think Elizabeth had the situation well in hand before we arrived. I believe you would have been very proud of her."

"I am proud of her," Darcy said, unable to keep the emotion from his voice. Elizabeth looked down, her cheeks pink. "But I thank you for your support. I am grateful, sir, ma'am."

"And you have it," Lady Matlock said quietly. "You have always had it."

Darcy bowed his head. "Thank you," he said again. He glanced back at Elizabeth. "Would you take a walk with me, Miss Elizabeth?" He was desperate to know what Lady Catherine had said to her. He could well guess what had set his aunt off; Mr. Collins was the only possible source of any intelligence which might have reached his aunt of Darcy's interest in Elizabeth.

"Of course, Mr. Darcy." Composedly, Elizabeth patted Georgiana's hand before rising and smoothing her skirts. "I will just fetch my cloak."

Darcy and Elizabeth walked slowly through the gardens of Darcy House. The snow crunched beneath their feet, the bare branches of the trees stark against the pale sky. Darcy offered his arm to Elizabeth and she took it, her gloved hand resting on his coat sleeve.

"Miss Elizabeth," he said after a moment of silence. "I must thank you for the courage you have shown today."

Elizabeth glanced at him. "I do not know what you mean, sir."

"Lady Catherine," Darcy said. "You stood up to her, I know you did."

Elizabeth smiled a little, looking away. "She had no power to hurt me, Mr. Darcy. I refuse to allow someone so wholly unconnected with me to have any influence over my thoughts or actions."

"What did she say to you?" Darcy almost pleaded.

"I can only assume that Mr. Collins told her a tale of woe, painting me as a scarlet woman out to ensnare you, sir." Elizabeth's lips quirked. "Lady Catherine attempted to command me to renounce any interest in you."

Darcy's jaw clenched with rage, but a glance at the amusement on Elizabeth's face soothed his fury. "And you refused?"

Elizabeth hesitated. "I did," she said, but Darcy sensed that she had more she wanted to say.

They came to a bench, and Darcy gently brushed the snow off it with his hand. Elizabeth looked at him, her eyes wide, and he gestured for her to sit. "Please," he said, "allow me to say this." He knelt before her, taking her hand in his. "I have not pressed you, or I have tried not to, aware that you are grieving your father's death."

Elizabeth took a deep breath of the cold winter air. "I am grateful for your forebearance," she said finally. "You must know that I had no idea you even admired me, until I discovered that you had asked my father for permission to court me."

Darcy swallowed, the shock of that lie being brought back up to him suddenly hitting home. He had told it in a desperate attempt to protect her from Collins, had almost forgotten it, but now… he could not let it stand.

"I did not ask your father for permission to court you," he admitted finally, and Elizabeth's eyes flew wide with shock.

"What?" she gasped.

"I told Mr. Collins that because he implied he planned to marry you, and I could not bear the thought of it," Darcy admitted baldly. "You must understand, I wanted only to protect you. And, though I had not then admitted it even to myself… I was already quite thoroughly enthralled by you."

Elizabeth did not know what to say. Mr. Darcy admitting he had told such an enormous lie, to protect her, was shocking enough, but for him then to confess that he really had been enamoured of her, even then!

"I wish I could have seen you stand up to Lady Catherine," he said quietly. "You must have been a magnificent sight."

Elizabeth could only stare at him, a blush rising in her cheeks. "Sir, I..."

He pressed her hand gently between both of his. "You are a magnificent sight," he said softly. "You always have been."

Elizabeth tried to look away, but she could not. She was held, trapped by the intense blue of his eyes. She could see the snow beginning to fall around them again, soft and silent, but she was captured in that moment. "Mr. Darcy," she said finally, and her voice was shaking. "I... "

"Elizabeth," he said. "Please, you must allow me to say this." He reached up and gently touched her cheek with his gloved hand. "You must allow me to tell you how much I ardently admire and love you."

Elizabeth took a deep breath and shook her head. She could not hear this, she could not. She was not ready. "Sir," she said, and she was proud that her voice did not tremble. "I..."

Darcy smiled a little. "You are not ready to hear that yet," he said gently. "I know. I will not force you. But you must know that I will not let you go."

Elizabeth gasped. "Sir, that is not for you to say!"

Darcy's smile widened. "Oh, but it is," he said softly. He reached out and brushed a snowflake from her hair. "I will not let you go, Elizabeth Bennet. You are mine and I am yours, and I will wait for as long as you need to accept it."

Elizabeth stared at him, speechless, and he leaned closer, his eyes on hers. Almost as though he was waiting for her to pull away, or to slap his face, but she was caught by those blue, blue eyes, and she could not move.

Did not want to move.

His lips pressed against hers briefly, softly, too briefly. Warm and gentle, and as he moved back, Elizabeth caught herself leaning forwards, seeking more. Seeking another kiss.

For a moment they stared at each other, both breathing fast, and the entire world seemed to hold still.

And then Jane called to Elizabeth from the house, and Elizabeth jumped to her feet with a gasp.

"I must go. I must…"

"Elizabeth," Darcy said, and she paused, looked up at him.

Her stomach was churning with panic and she did not know what to say. They just stared at each other for an endless moment, and then Darcy smiled.

"I love you." He said it again, and this time she felt the truth of it strike her to the heart.

He loves me.

She did not know what to say, what to do, and Darcy's calm expression told her that he did not expect her to say anything, so Elizabeth turned and fled, back to the house and the familiar safety of her sisters.