Page 71 of Mr. Darcy's Runaway Bride
The dinner hour arrived with the usual formality. Elizabeth, seated opposite Darcy, appeared composed, though her eyes betrayed a wariness. For his part, Darcy was peculiarly alert to the undercurrents of tension in the room.
It was during the removal of the soup course that Lady Catherine launched her first salvo.
“I have received an interesting communication from London,” she announced, fixing Elizabeth with a penetrating stare. “From Margaret Blackfriars.”
Darcy felt a cold weight settle in his stomach as he observed Elizabeth’s fingers tighten around her napkin. “Indeed, aunt?”
“We were presented together at court in our youth. Her most recent missive contained startling information regarding Mrs Darcy’s former connections.”
Elizabeth met Lady Catherine’s gaze steadily. “How singular that Mrs Blackfriars should find my insignificant self, worthy of mention.”
“Singular, certainly. She informs me that you were engaged to her nephew, Jonathan Blackfriars, and withdrew from the very church on your wedding day.”
A hush fell over the table. Even the footmen paused in their duties, though a sharp glance from Darcy sent them retreating.
“My engagement to Mr Blackfriars was arranged without my consent,” Elizabeth replied, her voice steady. “I discovered on the morning of the wedding that we were fundamentally unsuited.”
“Withdrew! A charitable term for abandonment.” Lady Catherine’s lips curved in a thin smile.
Before Elizabeth could respond, Darcy spoke, his voice cool and measured. “I am aware of Elizabeth’s broken engagement. She has been entirely forthcoming on both matters.”
“Then you knowingly married a woman who had jilted another gentleman at the altar?” Lady Catherine demanded. “Have you taken leave of your senses entirely, nephew?”
“I married a woman of intelligence, principles, and courage,” Darcy replied.
“Principles! The girl fled from a respectable match because of financial circumstances. The Bennets sought to secure their future through advantageous marriages. First with the Blackfriars, and when that scheme failed, with you.”
“My family will resolve their financial matters without Mr Darcy’s assistance,” Elizabeth said with quiet dignity. “They have done so even now, through legitimate channels.”
“A convenient assertion,” Lady Catherine sniffed. “Though I understand Mrs Bennet’s ambitions extend beyond asingle daughter’s match. Is it not true that she harboured similar hopes for Jane Bennet and Mr Bingley?”
“Charles Bingley’s connections are his own concern,” Darcy interjected, struggling to maintain composure.
“Indeed, and you have done him a service in extracting him from that entanglement,” Lady Catherine replied with satisfaction.
Darcy watched in horror as the impact of these words registered on Elizabeth’s face. He looked at his cousin who shook his head, face pale.
“I have said not a word,” he said.
“You need not, nephew,” Lady Catherine smiled.
“What do you mean? Done him a service how?” Elizabeth asked, voice shaking.
None spoke until Lady Catherine cleared her throat. “Shall I tell you, Fitzwilliam?” She did not give him a chance to do so. “My nephew overheard your mother’s plans for Mr Bingley and Fitzwilliam informed his friend post haste that he needed to extract himself from the entanglement with your sister. Something he should have done for himself.”
“Is that true?” she asked, the anguish in her voice cutting through him.
“I… I meant…” He couldn’t say he meant well because in the moment, he had been full of nothing but anger. Instead, he turned to his aunt. “How dare you involve yourself in my personal affairs. And how do you know any of this?”
Lord Matlock cleared his throat.
“You ought to be more careful where you share your private conversation,” he said. “Although in this case, I am glad you were careless and allowed me the opportunity to overhear your conversation in the sculpture garden.”
“You eavesdropped?” Darcy called, throwing his napkin down.
“Hardly. I was there reading a book when the two of you arrived, and what fortune timing it was indeed,” Lord Matlock said.
“Father, this was not your information to share,” Richard said, shaking his head.
