Page 35 of Grief and Grievances
"Leave us? But this is most unexpected!" she cried, her voice wavering between indignation and despair. "I cannot bear to be stripped of my greatest supports in my hour of greatest need. Surely, Mr. Darcy, you understand how deeply I have come to rely on the company of Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth."
"Indeed, Lady Catherine," Darcy replied gently, his brow furrowing with concern. "Your attachment to them is evident, and I assure you that their departure is not without a heavy heart. However, they must attend to their family in Longbourn, and we are obliged to respect their wishes."
"Very well," she conceded, her tone resigned. "But do convey my deepest regrets to them, and remind them of the profound impact they have had upon Rosings Park."
"Of course, madam," Darcy said, bowing respectfully.
As he retreated from the drawing-room, Darcy mulled over the significance of the events unfolding before him. His sister's delight at accompanying Elizabeth, Lady Catherine's genuine sorrow at losing the Bennet sisters' company—these were testaments to the power of friendship and love, forces that had the capacity to transcend even the most rigid societal boundaries.
Elizabeth stood by the window, her eyes tracing the familiar contours of Rosings Park as the golden light of the setting sun cast long shadows across the verdant lawns. She sighed, knowing that she must soon depart this place to return to Longbourn and face her family's troubles. The thought weighed heavily upon her heart.
"Miss Elizabeth," Lady Catherine called from across the room, cutting through Elizabeth's introspection. "Pray tell me the true reason for your sudden departure. I cannot believe that it is a mere whim."
Elizabeth hesitated, her fingers twisting the folds of her gown as she considered how best to answer the formidable woman. She had come to appreciate Lady Catherine's forthrightness, even if it often bordered on rudeness. Deciding on honesty, she turned to face her hostess and said, "I fear my youngest sister may be on the verge of making a terrible mistake, one that could ruin not only her own reputation but that of our entire family. I feel it is my duty to intervene before matters spiral out of control."
Lady Catherine pursed her lips, her stern countenance betraying her disapproval. "Silly young girls," she muttered, shaking her head. "Always fancying themselves in love with the wrong men. In my day, we understood the importance of a sensible match."
"Indeed, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth replied softly, her gaze returning to the window. "But I hope you will understand that I must prioritise the well-being of my family, however much I have grown to value your company and that of Rosings."
"Very well, Miss Elizabeth," Lady Catherine conceded, her voice tinged with regret. "You must do what you believe is right. But remember that Rosings will always welcome you back with open arms."
"Thank you, Lady Catherine," Elizabeth whispered, touched by the unexpected warmth in her words. As the final rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, she steeled herself for the trials that lay ahead, knowing that she carried with her not only the weight of her family's expectations but also the hopes and dreams of those who had come to care for her during her time at Rosings Park.
Darcy stood in the shadows of the drawing room, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth as she spoke with Lady Catherine. The fading light of the day cast a warm glow on her face, accentuating the delicate curve of her jaw and the determined set of her lips. Her honest confession to Lady Catherine stirred something deep within him, a sense of admiration for the strength and integrity that shone through even in the most trying of circumstances.
At Lady Catherine's grumble about silly young girls falling in love with the wrong men, Darcy's thoughts turned abruptly to Georgiana and the ever-present spectre of Wickham. A sudden suspicion seized him: did Lady Catherine know more than she let on about the sordid incident at Ramsgate? It seemed unlikely, but the nagging doubt refused to release its grip on his mind. He could not help but wonder how much she knew, and what she might think of his sister's near ruin at the hands of such a man.
"Miss Elizabeth," Lady Catherine said, her voice regaining some of its usual authority, "I shall grant you my blessing to attend to this family matter. However," she added, her gaze piercing Elizabeth, "I expect you to return to Rosings as soon as possible. I have given much thought to our mutual attachment, and I find it only fitting to offer you an opportunity to expand your horizons. I intend to travel to Germany and then south to Italy, and I would be delighted if you would accompany me as my guest and travelling companion."
Elizabeth blinked in surprise, her brows lifting ever so slightly at the unexpected proposal. Her eyes flicked toward Darcy, who stood near the window, his expression unreadable but his presence undeniably reassuring.
"Your Ladyship, I am deeply honoured by your invitation," she replied cautiously, her mind abuzz with questions and concerns. "May I ask what prompted this decision?"
"Your care for Anne did not go unnoticed," Lady Catherine answered, her voice firm yet tinged with a hint of warmth. "It is a small compensation, I admit, but I believe you would enjoy the journey. We shall sail in the autumn."
"Your Ladyship, your generosity overwhelms me," Elizabeth said slowly, obviously choosing her words with care. "I must discuss the matter with my father before I can give you an answer, but I am truly grateful for the opportunity."
"Of course," Lady Catherine nodded, a satisfied smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I trust that your father will see the value in such an excursion, and I shall eagerly anticipate your answer."
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment, glancing at Darcy as if seeking his approval or disapproval. "If my father agrees," she finally admitted, her voice tinged with both excitement and apprehension, "I would very much like to accept your offer, your Ladyship."
The words struck Darcy like a blow to the chest, causing an unpleasant sensation to coil within him. His earlier fears intensified, mingling with a sense of impending loss that threatened to consume him. He struggled to maintain his composure, unwilling to let his emotions betray him in front of the others.
"Very well, Miss Bennet," Lady Catherine declared with satisfaction. "I shall eagerly await your father’s approval, and I trust that we shall be able to make the necessary arrangements in due course."
"Thank you, your Ladyship," Elizabeth replied, her cheeks flushed with excitement as she curtseyed and turned to leave the room. Her steps were light, almost buoyant, as if she were walking on air.
As the door closed behind her, Darcy was left alone with his thoughts, his heart heavy with conflicting emotions. He could not begrudge Elizabeth the opportunity to travel and broaden her horizons, especially given her keen intellect and adventurous spirit. At the same time, he could not shake the fear that their relationship would suffer in her absence, that the fragile bond they had forged would be irreparably damaged by the distance between them. That she might even meet and marry another man, as Lady Catherine had hinted she would try to find Elizabeth a husband on their travels.
"Mr. Darcy," Lady Catherine addressed him, her voice breaking through his reverie. "I trust you understand the benefits of this arrangement for both Miss Elizabeth and myself?"
"Of course, your Ladyship," he replied stiffly, forcing a polite smile onto his face. "I am certain that it will prove to be an enriching experience for all involved."
Yet even as he uttered these words, Darcy could not help but wonder whether he was truly willing to pay the price that such an experience might exact upon his heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Laterthatevening,afterthe ladies had retreated to the drawing room after dinner, Elizabeth approached Jane and drew her into private conversation at the side of the room, aware from where Lady Catherine talked with Lucinda, Georgiana and Georgiana’s companion, Mrs. Annesley.
