Page 122 of Colour My World
Mr Collins gasped, but Darcy could not stop his smile.
“Miss Elizabeth,” Lady Catherine pressed, “is independent to the point of folly. She walks unchaperoned, she befriends the servants, she plays chess with men, she—”
“Possesses a mind superior to most,” Darcy said.
Lady Catherine clucked her tongue. “You would stake thehonour of Pemberley, your name, your future heirs, on a penniless country girl, bred among vulgarity, whose very eyes mark her as unnatural?”
“Yes.”
Mr Collins made a strangled sound.
Anne set down her teacup with deliberate care and rose. “Are you speaking of Lady Anne? My aunt? Fitzwilliam’s mother?” She walked towards Darcy; her eyes fixed on the marble statue her mother had become. “Your beloved sister?”
Lady Catherine’s fingers whitened against her cane.
Darcy offered his arm. “Curious, is it not, Cousin, that Mr George Darcy found her quite…worthy.”
Lady Catherine’s cane struck the floor. Mr Collins whimpered.
Anne placed her hand upon his forearm. “Fascinating.”
Darcy inclined his head. “I shall look forward to the evening’s entertainment.” He led Anne from the room.
* * *
The drawing room doors remained open behind them. Lady Catherine remained with a pale and shaken Mr Collins. Mrs Jenkinson fluttered towards Anne.
“No.”
Mrs Jenkinson hesitated. “But—”
Anne unravelled the last muffler and dropped it to the floor. “You may tidy me when I am dead.”
Mrs Jenkinson let out a breath, hesitated, then curtsied. “Yes, miss.”
“Good girl.” Darcy led her towards the staircase. “Well?”
“You cannot expect me to endure Mother’s dramatics without due compensation.” Her smile was distinctly feline. “Tell me about your Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”
Darcy took deliberate care to adjust his cuffs.
Anne smirked. “A lost cause, Cousin.”
“And how, pray, do I look?”
“As if bracing for cannon fire.”
Darcy huffed a quiet laugh. He slowed to keep pace with her on the stairs.
“You know, I have no quarrel with Miss Elizabeth.”
He studied her.
“I am, in fact, rather fond of the idea of her,” she continued. “She will save me from a most odious fate.”
Darcy exhaled. “Anne.”
She waved a hand. “Do not ‘Anne’ me, Darcy. We both know where this path ends. If you marry, Mother must surrender this absurd delusion that I am waiting in the wings like some tragic wraith.”
