Page 63 of The Heroic Mr Darcy's Bad Manners
“Matlock!” Lord Limerick greeted the man without pleasure.
“Limerick!” Lord Matlock retorted, sounding equally displeased. “When I was made aware whom you had chosen as your guests”—he looked accusatorily at Mr Darcy—“I was obligated to come and warn you against the acquaintance.”
“I am my own man and shall invite whomever I choose,” Mr Darcy replied evenly.
If she read the colonel’s lips correctly, he mouthed “sorry” to his cousin, which she interpreted as proof that the Matlock parents were an uninvited addition.
Elizabeth was slightly impressed Mr Darcy dared to call out his formidable uncle. Lord Matlock was a respected earl who was known for his political industry; but that was not why Elizabeth esteemed him. She had recently heard that Lord Matlock was one of the very few peers who was loyal to his wife. Lord and Lady Matlock were known to be devoted to each other, which was a rare occurrence indeed amongst the peerage, and heartily romantic in a young lady’s eyes. Could they truly be so bad?
“Which Bennet daughter is it that my sons are making a fool of themselves over?” Lord Matlock asked, losing some of Elizabeth’s regard. “I warned the king against the Act of Union and allowing the Irish peerage into the House of Lords. Never before have so many been elevated into an undeserved rank.” His emphasis on ‘Irish’ as though it left a foul taste in his mouth bespoke his contempt.
“That is rich coming from you,” Lord Limerick countered.
“I am not Irish!”
“You can take the Irish out of Ireland, but you cannot take the Irish out of the man,” Lord Limerick asserted.
Lord Matlock threw his hands in the air. “It has been eight hundred years since my ancestors left Dublin for the Midlands!”
“Which proves my point!” Lord Limerick smiled victoriously.
Whether one was Irish or English mattered little to Elizabeth. What she could not fathom was why a father would not rejoice at the prospect of such a beautiful, kind, and compassionate lady as Jane for a daughter-in-law. But to her surprise, Lord Matlock’s glare was directed at her.
“Is that the one?” he asked Mr Darcy, but Elizabeth answered before their host recovered from his bewilderment.
“I assure you, neither the viscount nor the colonel has the slightest interest in me,” Elizabeth declared.
“Then who?” Lord Matlock boomed.
“I believe this is not such a good idea,” Mr Darcy deflected. “I would suggest you return to your home.”
“Out of the question. I shall not allow my sons to consort with criminals.”
“You are going too far,” Mr Darcy protested before deaf ears.
“The Campbells are back in town,” Lord Limerick gritted through clenched teeth. “I would not speak about consorting with criminals if I were you.”
“Campbell was acquitted in the court of law,” Lord Matlock replied coldly.
“By your perjury,” Lord Limerick accused him.
The combatants stepped closer and closer to each other.
“I spoke in earnest on behalf of a friend,” Lord Matlock defended himself.
“Yes. Your friend—the lying counterfeiter,” Lord Limerick charged. “Whom you had known for but a year?”
“Our acquaintance was of longer standing than that. We attended Oxford together.”
It was all too much for Jane, who could not stand any argument. “I am she,” she stated as she stepped between the arguing gentlemen. “I shall immediately rescind my permission for the gentlemen to call if my acquaintance displeases you, Lord Matlock.”
“That will not be necessary,” the colonel objected, glaring at his father.
“Father, you cannot accuse this lovely creature of anything untoward,” the viscount defended Jane.
“Lady Catherine Campbell née Bennet, this man’s sister”—he pointed a trembling finger at Lord Glentworth—“was equally beautiful. But looks can be deceiving. She was a fraudster, and a treasonous one to boot,” Lord Matlock informed his son.
The likeness of a young girl in her grandmother’s bedroom sprang before Elizabeth’s inner eye. Her father’s beloved sister whose murder had injured him beyond repair. Could Lord Matlock’s accusations be true?
