We Have Mary King to Thank – Part 4, by Jack Caldwell

Greetings, everyone. Jack Caldwell here.

Here is Part 4 of our story. Does ODC take a few steps forward or not? What effect will Lady Catherine de Bourgh have on them? Read on and find out!

Thanks goes to my lovely Beta Babe, Debbie!

Part 3 may be found HERE.

Back to our story:

Part 4

ELIZABETH ABANDONED THE TASK of adding to Jane’s letter. She sealed it and attempted to put her struggles behind her by reading poetry until dressing for dinner. The party had just taken their seats and sat through Mr. Collins’s long-winded blessing, when there was a commotion at the door.

“Out of my way, girl!” demanded a familiar quarrelsome and imperious voice. “I have business here that will not be delayed!”

All were astonished as Lady Catherine de Bourgh swept into the dining room, highly incensed. “You!” One shaking, bejeweled finger stabbed towards Elizabeth. “You jezebel! I would speak to you this instant!”

“Lady Catherine,” cried Mr. Collins, “welcome to my humble abode. But what has distressed you? Pray allow me to escort you to a seat where you may take comfort.” He called for the housemaid.

“Silence, toad!” shouted the grand dame. “My business is not with you but with that young lady!”

“Cousin Elizabeth?” Ashen, he turned to her. “What have you done?”

Elizabeth stood slowly. “Nothing that I am aware of.” She raised her chin. “Lady Catherine, you can have no business with me.”

“Indeed, I do,” she argued. “You plead ignorance, Miss Bennet, but you can be at no loss to understand the reason for my presence. Your own heart, your own conscience, must tell you why I come.”

“You are mistaken, madam. I cannot account for seeing you here.”

“Young lady, you ought to know I am not to be trifled with. But however insincere you may choose to be, you shall not find me so. My character has ever been celebrated for its sincerity and frankness, and in a cause of such moment as this, I shall certainly not depart from it! If you will not step into Mr. Collins’ study where we may speak in privacy, I will have no scruple but to reveal all to those assembled here!”

“I have nothing to hide from my friends.”

“So be it! A report of a most alarming nature has reached me. I was told that you have been meeting clandestinely with my own nephew Mr. Darcy on Rosings property itself! Though I know it must be a scandalous falsehood, though I would not injure him so much as to suppose the truth of it possible, I instantly resolved on making my sentiments known to you.”

“If you believed it impossible to be true,” said Elizabeth, coloring with mortification and disdain, “I wonder you took the trouble of coming here, at such an hour. What could your ladyship propose by it?”

“Cousin Elizabeth, mind your words!” demanded Mr. Collins.

Lady Catherine ignored him. “At once to insist upon having such a report universally contradicted.”

Elizabeth could not lie to the lady. “I do not pretend to possess equal frankness with your ladyship. You may ask questions which I shall not choose to answer.”

“Elizabeth!” cried both Charlotte and Mr. Collins.

“So, it is true!”

“It is true that I often walk the groves of Rosings—at your invitation—and it is true that on occasion I have come across both of your nephews exercising the same freedom. Is this your notion of a clandestine meeting? Shall I rudely ignore your relations? Is this your requirement of proper behavior?”

“Miss Bennet, do you know who I am? I have not been accustomed to such language as this.”

“It is not my intention to harm you, milady.”

“I insist on being satisfied! Do you believe by such actions, with your arts and allurements, you may, in a moment of infatuation, have made Darcy forget what he owes to himself and to all his family? This is not to be borne, Miss Bennet!” Lady Catherine slammed her walking-stick hard upon the floor, marring the wood. “Has he, has Darcy made you an offer of marriage?”

“ELIZABETH!” cried Charlotte, Mr. Collins, and Maria.

“Your ladyship has declared it to be impossible.”

“It ought to be so—it must be so, while he retains the use of his reason. But you may have drawn him in!”

“If I have, I shall be the last person to confess it.”

“Miss Bennet, you will answer! I am almost the nearest relation Darcy has in the world, and I am entitled to know all his dearest concerns!”

Elizabeth’s anger was ignited. “But you are not entitled to know mine, nor will such behavior as this ever induce me to be explicit.”

“Let me be rightly understood. This match, to which you have the presumption to aspire, can never take place. No, never! Mr. Darcy is engaged to my daughter. Now what have you to say?”

“Only this—that if he is so, you can have no reason to suppose he will make an offer to me.”

Lady Catherine hesitated for a moment, and then replied, “The engagement between them is of a peculiar kind. From their infancy, they have been intended for each other. It was the favorite wish of his mother as well as of hers. While in their cradles, we planned the union.

“All this to be prevented by a young woman of inferior birth, of no importance in the world, and wholly unallied to the family? It must not be! Do you pay no regard to the wishes of his friends? Are you lost to every feeling of propriety and delicacy? Have you not heard me say that from his earliest hours he was destined for his cousin?”

“ENOUGH!” demanded a booming male voice.

Mr. Darcy angrily strode through the dining room door, followed closely by an anxious Colonel Fitzwilliam.

“Aunt, you forget yourself!” Darcy cried, “How dare you disparage a worthy young lady like Miss Bennet? She is a gentleman’s daughter from a respectable family. It is beneath you, madam, and I insist you apologize at once.”

“Apologize? I certainly will not!” Lady Catherine turned her ire upon Mr. Darcy. “I know it all! My footmen have observed your assignations in the groves! I know where you were last evening! Instead of taking tea with your family, you were meeting with this bird of paradise! It is you who has forgotten what is owed to Anne and to me! Throw off this unworthy connection, and pledge that you will do your duty and marry Anne!”

Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped between the combatants. “This is hardly the place for—”

“Silence, boy!” Lady Catherine spat out the words. “This is between Darcy and me.”

The colonel’s affable demeanor vanished. In a deadly voice, he returned, “’Boy’? Is that what you think of me?” Elizabeth trembled as Colonel Fitzwilliam seemed to transform before her eyes from a good natured gentleman to a fearsome warrior.

Lady Catherine was insensible to the change. “Darcy, it is long past time for you to announce your engagement with Anne!”

“I am not engaged to Anne.”

“You most certainly are! From your cradles your mother and I planned your union!”

“What you may have discussed with my mother years ago has no bearing on the current situation.” Ignoring her outcry, Mr. Darcy continued. “Show me then, madam, the papers arranging our union. Present the marriage articles signed by my father and Sir Lewis. You cannot, for there are none. There is no betrothal.”

“Darcy, you and Anne are descended from the same noble line. The Darcys are respectable, honorable, and ancient—though untitled. Your fortunes on both sides are splendid. You are destined for each other by the voice of every member of our houses!

“And what is to divide you? The upstart pretensions of a young woman without family, connections, or fortune? Is this to be endured? But it must not, shall not be! She is below you. If you were sensible of your own good, you would not wish to quit the sphere in which you have been brought up!”

“Aunt, take heed. You will cease your denunciation of the Bennets,” Darcy proclaimed. “I shall not marry Anne. No one will marry Anne. She is too ill.”

“Nonsense! Anne is perfectly well! A delicate constitution is not illness!”

“No, Aunt,” said Colonel Fitzwilliam with forced gentleness, “she is not. Please, be seated.” He reached for her. “I have spoken to Anne. She knows she cannot marry—”

The sound of Lady Catherine’s slap filled the room. “SHE IS NOT ILL!”

Elizabeth held back a gasp, something that neither Maria nor Charlotte could do. Mr. Collins looked on the stupefied horror.

The colonel took a step back, failing to touch his reddened cheek. “Madam, I am done with you. If you were a man—” He turned and moved next to Mr. Darcy.

His cousin’s attention was not on his aunt but on Elizabeth. “Miss Bennet…” He stopped and spoke to all in the room. “You must forgive my aunt. She is overwrought.”

“There is nothing wrong with me!” she cried.

He ignored Lady Catherine’s outburst. “I apologize to each of you. The disturbance of your dinner is inexcusable, to say nothing of the language you have been forced to endure. The colonel and I will escort my aunt back to Rosings and leave you in peace.”

“I am not leaving until I am satisfied!” Lady Catherine pointed to Elizabeth. “Are you engaged to that girl?”

Darcy raised his chin, “I am not engaged to anyone.”

Lady Catherine seemed to relax. “And will you promise to marry Anne?”

“I will make no promise of the kind.”

“Darcy, I am shocked and astonished! Do not deceive yourself into a belief that I will ever recede. I shall not leave till you have given me the assurance I require.”

“And I certainly never shall give it,” Darcy growled. “I am not to be intimidated into anything so wholly unreasonable. Let us leave this place.”

“You refuse, then, to oblige me! You refuse to obey the claims of duty, honor, and gratitude. You are determined to ruin yourself in the opinion of all your friends and accept the contempt of the world! Very well. I shall now know how to act!”

Mr. Darcy’s calm demeanor broke. “Upon my word, what nonsense you speak! Woman, my tolerance for your foolishness is spent. Fitzwilliam, help me remove our aunt to Rosings.”

She recoiled. “What? You would lay hands on me? Help, help!”

“Gentlemen!” Mr. Collins broke out of his stupor. “This…this is outrageous! Lady Catherine is my honored patroness, a lady of exalted rank, a peer of the realm. You cannot treat her in a harsh manner. For shame, sirs!”

“Peer!” snorted Fitzwilliam. “Aye, she is the daughter of an earl, but I am the son of an earl and a colonel in the King’s army besides. She will do as she is told!”

“I am the mistress of Rosings, and this is my parsonage! Get out!”

“Hah! You are mistress only by the leave of Darcy and my father, as you well know! And this ‘boy’, as his agent, speaks for the earl!” Fitzwilliam scowled at his aunt. “What say you to that?”

She gave an incomprehensible curse and reached for him, but the colonel was quick, evaded her clutches, and took her by the shoulder. A moment later, Darcy secured her other side, and her walking stick fell to the floor. As they half-dragged the screeching lady to the door, Darcy spoke over his shoulder.

“Again, my most sincere apologies. Good night to all here.” They then left the house.

The parties looked at one another in various degrees of shock, disapprobation, and distress. It was left to Maria to break the silence.

“Shall we begin dinner?”

~~~

After a rambling discourse by Mr. Collins, filled with despair over Lady Catherine’s anger and mistreatment at the hands of her nephews and censure over Elizabeth’s attempts to ensnare Mr. Darcy away from his intended bride, Charlotte exerted herself. She demanded silence from her husband and directed all to retire to their rooms. Their dinners would be brought to them to be consumed in peace. To Elizabeth’s surprise, Mr. Collins quietly submitted to his wife’s command.

There was no peace for Elizabeth as she sat on her bed, food untouched, contemplating the events of the evening—indeed of her entire stay at Hunsford. Lady Catherine’s ill-bred attack was shocking enough, but more incredible was Mr. Darcy’s impassioned defense of both her and her family. Mr. Darcy, who had disparaged her family in his insulting proposal, had presented himself as the Bennets’ champion.

How could this be? Who was this Mr. Darcy?

Elizabeth retrieved his letter from her hiding place and read it again. It was all there: his objections to her mother, sisters, and even her father. That she was coming to see some justice to his complaints did not square with his actions tonight. The family that was not good enough for the Bingleys deserved respect from Lady Catherine?

Yet, there it was…

Pardon me. It pains me to offend you. But amidst your concern for the defects of your nearest relations, and your displeasure at this representation of them, let it give you consolation to consider that to have conducted yourselves so as to avoid any share of the like censure is praise no less generally bestowed on you and your eldest sister, than it is honorable to the sense and disposition of both.

So, he deemed her and Jane as well to be above their family, and therefore deserved censure only from him and him alone, and not from his aunt.

How…how arrogant of him! Who did he think he was?

Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Her fingertips traced the letters of his name. How fitting it was. Strong. Regal. Powerful.

Pride-filled and standoffish as well!

“My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

“No,” she whispered to herself. “You cannot. How can you say you love me and despise my family in the same breath? It cannot be love you feel.”

She recalled his pain-filled eyes in the parsonage dining room only a short time before. Tears ran down her face. “Why do you torment me, Fitzwilliam Darcy? Teasing, teasing man! Why will you not leave me in peace?”

As she closed the letter, her gaze fell upon his adieu: I will only add, God bless you.

She thrust the letter into the bedside table’s drawer and gave herself over to weeping.

I think it’s a given that ODG is a mess, but not as big a mess as Lady Catherine! Hoo boy! I hope you liked it.
So, what do you think is going to happen next week? Leave your guesses below.

Or you could just tune in. Your call.

Until next week, this has been the Cajun Cheesehead Chronicles.

It takes a real man to write historical romance, so let me tell you a story…