Page 38 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
Darcy
Darcy’s jaw tightened as he recognised it at once. His aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had arrived. He turned to Elizabeth, his eyes apologetic, and then to Georgiana, Kitty, and Mary, but before he could speak, his sister took a deep breath.
“It is Aunt Catherine.”
“What does she want?” Kitty asked, staring in the direction the carriage had come from, while Mary simply observed in silence.
“Ladies, please,” Darcy said in a low, steady voice. “Head inside for now. It would be best if I dealt with this.”
Georgiana hesitated but nodded, gathering Kitty and Mary with her. Elizabeth remained rooted to the spot, her expression thoughtful.
Darcy turned back to her. “Elizabeth,” he began, his voice gentle. “I would like to shield you from my aunt, but I suspect that would be a mistake. She needs to see—”
“That our marriage is real,” Elizabeth interrupted, her gaze steady. “I understand.”
He inclined his head, his eyes warm with gratitude, though his manner remained restrained. Though their rapport had softened in recent weeks, they had not yet reached a placewhere he felt he could reach for her hand, no matter how much he wished to.
The carriage door opened, and Lady Catherine stepped out, her imperious gaze sweeping over the grounds before landing on Darcy. She marched towards him with deliberate purpose. Darcy squared his shoulders, his expression unreadable.
“Fitzwilliam,” Lady Catherine said sharply.
“Aunt Catherine, we were not expecting you,” he said.
“I would think not, since I decided to call on you just this morning. I was in the area and I thought it would be best that I address your impertinence in person.”
He had to stop himself from grinding his teeth as he watched her.
“We shall have time to converse. But first, let me formally introduce you to my wife, Mrs Eliza—”
“We have already had the pleasure,” she said sharply, and eyed Elizabeth as though she were a stray dog hobbling in from the woods rather than her niece by marriage.
Elizabeth curtsied with flawless grace. “Lady Catherine, how kind of you to visit.”
Lady Catherine acknowledged her with a cold stare but said nothing. Her attention returned to Darcy. “We must speak at once, in private,” she demanded.
“Very well, Aunt,” Darcy replied evenly. “Shall we use the drawing room?”
Lady Catherine swept ahead without waiting for a reply. Darcy offered Elizabeth a faint nod before following his aunt inside. They entered the drawing room, and Darcy closed the door firmly behind them.
Lady Catherine whirled to face him. “Explain yourself!” she demanded, her voice sharp. “How could you marry that girl? After everything, after I express commanded that you not entangle yourself with someone so beneath your station, you went and married her? When you were already promised to Anne?”
Darcy’s expression hardened. “I am a grown man, Aunt. I owe you no explanation for my choice of wife.”
Lady Catherine’s eyes narrowed. “You owe it to your family! To your name! Your marriage is a disgrace! I raised Anne for this union, groomed her to stand by your side, and now—”
“She deserves happiness too,” Darcy interrupted, his voice firm. “Would you condemn your daughter to a loveless match, simply to satisfy some ambition?”
Lady Catherine stiffened, but her lip curled. “Would I? And yet, it appears you had no qualms about leaving her humiliated. Tell me, Fitzwilliam, did you know?”
Darcy frowned. “Know what?”
“About Anne and Richard,” she snapped, her tone biting. “Did you know they have been harbouring feelings for one another?”
Darcy faltered, the flicker of surprise on his face betraying him.
“So you did know,” she hissed. “And yet you kept it from me!”
“What good would it have done to tell you?” he countered, recovering his composure. “If this is true, they are both of age and free to make their own choices. I see no reason to interfere.”
