Chapter 25

The Green Parlor

The Red Dragon Inn

Tuxford

The party had gathered in another guest parlor that was fortunately available, while Mr. Darcy remained behind to battle with his aunt. It was half the size of the one where they had been eating their meal, but it was a cozy place, with several comfortable chairs and a roaring fire. The two gentlemen seeking Lydia's favor made their way over to the fire and spoke determinedly of horses, obviously with the laudable desire of making it possible for the Bennets to speak of the situation with a modicum of privacy.

"So that is Lady Catherine de Bourgh," Mr. Bennet remarked drily.

Elizabeth, studying her father narrowly, was of the view that her sire was experiencing a mixture of amusement and fear. Yes, Lady Catherine was a ridiculous woman, and the type of individual whom Bennet would ordinarily observe with great enjoyment. But she also seemed fully aware of Lydia's elopement, and she could cause significant trouble for the Bennet family if she wished.

"That is indeed Lady Catherine," Elizabeth replied.

Lydia's brow was furrowed, and she said, "I do not understand! Why is she here? And why would she care about," and here she flushed, "my elopement?"

"Lady Catherine is concerned that Mr. Darcy is pursuing me," Elizabeth explained, "when she wants him to marry her daughter, Miss de Bourgh."

Lydia looked astonished, which Elizabeth found exasperating. They had been on this journey for six days now, and surely even self-absorbed Lydia had noticed Darcy's attentions to the second Miss Bennet.

But perhaps not – despite the substantial improvements in her manners, Lydia was still very self absorbed.

Now it seemed that understanding had finally dawned, and the girl said, "I had wondered why Mr. Darcy was so willing to assist us. Is that it, Elizabeth? Is Mr. Darcy in love with you?"

Elizabeth glanced over at Mrs. Greenfield, who was seated demurely on a nearby chair, and said, "He is in love with me, Lydia, though I beg you not to speak of that openly. The situation is still complex and thus ... well, we do not know the future."

"Because of me," Lydia said baldly.

"Yes," her sister agreed.

"Are you in love with him?"

"Yes," Elizabeth admitted, though quietly. "I know I disliked him thoroughly when we first met, but now I consider him one of the very best of men, and I believe we are well matched."

Lydia's lip trembled. "Will Mr. Darcy not wed you if I am not properly married?"

Elizabeth blew out a breath and said, "Certainly we all wish your affairs to be settled before any decision about a marriage takes place. And now that Lady Catherine is here, well, it makes it more complicated."

"You are saying," Lydia said, "that she might threaten to tell everyone about my misdeeds if Mr. Darcy does not marry Miss de Bourgh?"

Elizabeth was surprised again, though this time in a good way. In truth, she had always thought Lydia clever – she had learned to read with ease when but a small child – but the girl had been so focused on her own desires in the last years that there had been little room for sense or keen observation.

"That is the concern, yes," she answered.

Lydia's face tipped down, and her lips curled down mournfully. "I am sorry, Lizzy."

/

The Purple Parlor

The servants, under strict orders from Mr. Bennet, did not disturb the pair in the dining room, and the scents of dinner lingered from the dishes remaining on the table. Darcy crossed the room to push back the heavy curtain and gaze stolidly through the glass; a grassy sward spread below him, dotted with wildflowers. It was a serene sight, and he drank it in, letting it calm him and help him rein in his rising temper. From the corner of his eye, he could still see his aunt, sitting upright and regal on the best chair available in the parlor, her eyes fixed angrily on him.

"Tell me, once for all, Darcy," she ordered, "are you engaged to Elizabeth Bennet?"

Though Darcy would not, for the mere purpose of obliging Lady Catherine, have answered this question, he could not but say after a moment's deliberation, "I am not."

Lady Catherine heaved a relieved sigh and continued, "And will you promise me never to enter into such an engagement?"

"I will make no promise of the kind," Darcy replied flatly.

"Darcy, I am astonished! That hussy has indeed…"

"Take care, Aunt!" Darcy snarled, taking a dangerous step toward his elder relation. "I will not permit you to insult Miss Bennet in my hearing."

Catherine de Bourgh gazed at him, wide-eyed and wide-mouthed. For a full minute, the tableau held of the younger, taller man looming over his fractious, self-absorbed and demanding relation.

Finally, the lady took a deep breath and blustered, "If you do not return with me to Kent right now and marry Anne, I will spread the news of the Bennets' shame throughout society, do you understand?"

Darcy stared at her, horrified and amazed in spite of himself. "How could you even think of doing such a cruel thing?"

"It is not cruel in the least," his aunt said with obvious satisfaction, recovering her equanimity. "Miss Lydia Bennet is ruined, and thus her sisters are ruined as well. It would be criminal to permit you to marry a woman of such ill repute. You are a Darcy and the nephew of the Earl of Matlock! In addition, you are engaged to my daughter!"

"I am not engaged to Anne."

"Of course you are! Now I will admit that the engagement between you is of a peculiar kind. But you know that from your infancies, you have been intended for each other. It was the fondest wish of Lady Anne, your dear mother, and me. While in your cradles, we planned the union. And now, at the moment when the wishes of both sisters would be accomplished, is your marriage to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, with a besmirched name, and wholly unallied to the family?"

"Lady Catherine," Darcy said, raising to his full height, "whether you like it or not, I am my own man, and I will not marry my cousin. You cannot force me to do so."

The older woman was not dismayed at his words. "Oh, I think that you will, my dear nephew. If you do not, your precious Miss Bennet, and her entire family, will be destroyed in the eyes of society. Is that a way to show your love for the girl?"

/

The Bennet Daughters' Bedchamber

The Red Dragon Inn

Midnight

The sheets of the inn bed were clean and well-aired and comfortable, and Lydia had succumbed at once to their embrace. She lay at Elizabeth's shoulder, her breathing deep and even and peaceful. Elizabeth envied her sister's slumber. Worry gnawed at her own mind, keeping her wide awake. She had not seen Darcy since their interrupted dinner and wondered anxiously how his conversation with Lady Catherine had gone. No raised voices from the parlor betrayed the discussion, but Elizabeth was keenly aware of the woman's temperament – dictatorial, irascible, and ferociously determined. Darcy had stayed closeted with her until it was time for the rest of the party to retire to bed, and Elizabeth had retired to her room full of concern.

Now she turned restlessly onto her side, staring into the darkness. She was aware of Lady Catherine's desire that Mr. Darcy marry the frail Miss de Bourgh and thus unite Rosings and Pemberley, and the mistress of Rosings did not take kindly to anyone flouting her orders. Catherine de Bourgh was not a compassionate woman, and could do the Bennets a great deal of harm should she choose to spread the facts about Lydia's situation. Her word as the daughter of an earl and the mistress of a great estate would be accepted as truth among society, and Meryton was close enough to London that the rumors would spread, and the Bennets' reputation would be utterly destroyed. Moreover, it was unlikely that either of Lydia's remaining suitors would be willing to sully their own reputations by marrying the girl under such circumstances, and Darcy was far too honorable a man to conceal his aunt's intentions.

There was a soft tap at the door, and Elizabeth sat up and called softly, "Come in?"

The door opened to reveal a maid carrying a candle, who said, "I apologize for disturbing you, Miss Bennet. Mr. Bennet has requested that you join him in the Purple Parlor."

"Now?" Elizabeth asked in amazement.

"Yes, Miss."

Elizabeth rolled out of bed and cast a glance at her sister, who was still burrowed under her blankets, snoring softly. "I assume Miss Lydia is not to come?"

"No, Miss. Do you need my assistance in dressing?"

"Not at all, thank you. If you do not mind lighting a candle on the mantle, I will be well enough."

The girl did so and retreated, and Elizabeth threw on a simple gown, twisted her hair up into a serviceable bun, hastily donned stockings and shoes, and made her way out of her room, down the corridor, and into the Purple Parlor, whose door was open.

"Mr. Darcy," she said, surprised at the sight of the gentleman, who was standing a few feet beyond the door. A moment later, she blushed at being in such close proximity to her beloved in the middle of the night. The room was at least full of light, given that some ten candles scattered around the room were aflame.

"Miss Bennet," he returned and glanced to the right. Elizabeth, following his gaze, observed her father sitting on a chair near the fire, a glass of wine at his hand.

"Close the door, Lizzy, and come over here and sit down," Mr. Bennet ordered.

She pushed the door shut and walked over to take her place on the chair opposite her father, while Darcy took his own place a few feet away from both Bennets, though he remained standing.

"We need to speak about Lady Catherine," Mr. Bennet explained.

Elizabeth felt her stomach lurch uncomfortably, and she looked at Darcy. "Is she threatening to tell everyone about Lydia's folly unless you marry Miss de Bourgh?"

Bennet exclaimed in surprise, and Darcy shook his head. "It seems that you know my aunt better than I do. That is exactly what she is threatening, and I fear that she means it. She is so accustomed to getting her way that when she meets opposition, she combats it with every possible weapon in her arsenal, no matter how cruel."

Elizabeth grimaced in exasperation. "How did she even find us?"

"My aunt heard from Mr. Collins of my role in saving Miss Lydia's reputation, who in turn received information by mail from the gossiping Lucases, and apparently came to the correct conclusion that I am in love with you. She hastily made her way to Darcy House in London and bullied details from my servants. They are a loyal group, by and large, but my aunt is a force of nature."

"She is," Elizabeth acknowledged.

"Once she knew that we were heading toward Gretna Green, it was simple enough for her to race as quickly north as possible and have her servants ask about us at every stop."

Elizabeth blew out a deep breath and asked, "What will we do?"

He smiled at her lovingly and said, "I have an idea."