Page 39 of Unwillingly Mrs. Darcy
“No reason to interfere?” Lady Catherine repeated, her voice rising. “How dare you speak to me so cavalierly? I am the head of this family, and I will not allow this disgrace to continue!”
“I think my uncle would have something to say about that,” he said, aware he sounded rather too rude for his aunt’s liking.
“My brother may be head of the family in name, but we all know I am the one who keeps this family together and in the ton’s good graces.”
“By making people do things they do not wish?” Darcy’s tone was cutting.
“For the benefit of the family and our reputation. Yes,” she said.
“You have interfered enough,” Darcy said, his tone low and sharp. “What do you intend to do, forbid them from ever seeing one another? How well has such a strategy worked in the past?”
Lady Catherine’s expression darkened. “What did you intend to do, Fitzwilliam? Help them run away to Gretna Green like some common rabble?”
“If that is their wish,” Darcy said quietly, “I will not stop them. I will help them. I will not let you destroy their happiness.”
Lady Catherine let out a sharp laugh, her tone mocking. “Oh, I see. Perhaps you fancy yourself experienced in the art of ruining romances? I’ve heard about what you did with Bingley. It was a wise decision, though it seems the fool cannot let go of the Bennet girl, either.”
Darcy’s face flushed with barely contained fury. “That is quite enough, Aunt.”
“That is enough, Lady Catherine,” he repeated, his voice cutting. “It is time for you to leave.”
Lady Catherine blinked, taken aback. “Leave? My own nephew is dismissing me?” she spat.
“I will, if you do not depart immediately.”
“But you have not even heard me out yet!” she raged. “I have yet to discuss what brought me here. It is not Anne’s announcement of her matrimonial pursuits. It is your request to help break the entailment. I will never assist you in such a disgraceful matter! You would seek my help to subvert the family’s rightful inheritance?”
Darcy stood firm, his voice quiet but resolute. “I have made my position clear, Aunt. The entailment binds the Bennet estate in a manner I cannot abide.”
Lady Catherine’s face turned a deep shade of crimson. “And you think I would help you? Betray my own dear Mr Collins, all to feed your selfish, ungrateful desires? Youwillnot have my assistance, Fitzwilliam, not now, not ever!”
Darcy met her fiery gaze. “I asked as a courtesy as you are my relation but if you insist upon being difficult then I will find a way to break it without you.
His patience reached its limit. Straightening, he pulled the bell cord by the mantel. “It is time for you to leave.”
“You would dismiss me?” she demanded, her tone incredulous.
“Yes,” Darcy replied. “For the sake of my wife, myself, and what remains of our peace, I will not allow you to stay here and spread such venom. I bid you good day.”
Chapter 22
Elizabeth
That evening, the air in Pemberley’s drawing room felt heavy with quiet tension, the flickering light from the fire casting shadows against the walls. Elizabeth sat in her usual chair, her fingers idly tracing the edges of a book she had not opened in quite some time. Her mind wandered back to the conversation she had overheard between Darcy and Lady Catherine—an argument that had shaken her more than she cared to admit.
Darcy—she realised now that she thought of him thus, rather than with the cold formality of ‘Mr Darcy’. Over the past few weeks something had changed between them.
She thought of his firm words, his defence of his cousin, and how he had stood unwaveringly, even in the face of his aunt’s wrath. It had been a rare glimpse of the depth of his feelings for her, for his family, and, she now realised, for what he believed in. Lady Catherine’s biting words had been harsh, but Darcy had stood tall in the face of them, his commitment to the truth steadfast. He had, in his own way, defended their union, their shared life, and the dignity of her family, too. Elizabeth felt moved by that, in a way she hadn’t quite known how to express.
Yet, beneath her gratitude, there lingered a sharp sense of discomfort. The argument between Darcy and Lady Catherine had cast a shadow over their lives, a shadow she feared would only grow. And she would not help them break the entitlement—making it almost impossible to do so now.
She sat there, lost in her thoughts, when Darcy’s voice broke through the silence.
“You seem distant,” he said, stepping into the room, his gaze searching hers. His voice was soft, filled with concern.
Elizabeth looked up, startled for a moment, as though she had forgotten he was even in the room. She gave him a faint, distracted smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “It is nothing,” she began, but the words felt hollow, even to herself. She bit her lip, hesitating, and then finally spoke the truth that had been gnawing at her for hours.
“I was thinking about earlier. The argument with Lady Catherine. I cannot help but feel that the shadow of her words still lingers.”
