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Chapter Nine

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Elizabeth was aware that Mr. Darcy had been in an uncertain temper since the day she told him his sister was still in love with Mr. Wickham. She felt bad for having distressed him, but didn’t regret her words. He needed to know that Georgiana’s desires didn’t completely align with his.

Elizabeth felt sorry for Mrs. Wickham. She was married, and with child, yet her brother still treated her like a child herself. Yes, she was young, but that didn’t mean she didn’t know her heart. Her initial concern, the fear of abandonment that had made her worry about going back to Mr. Wickham, had now been overwhelmed by the same feelings that had caused her to elope. It wasn’t surprising she’d changed her mind after overcoming the shock of what had happened to her. Maybe, if Mr. Darcy hadn’t sheltered Georgiana so excessively her whole life, she would have handled her misfortunes with better success and the whole situation would have been mitigated. If it had been her, Elizabeth didn’t think she would have ended up homeless and robbed, begging for help at a bank.

Still, Elizabeth felt somewhat responsible for Mr. Darcy’s gloominess, so she endeavored to entertain him when she could. As he seemed to genuinely enjoy her playing, and that amusement didn’t require him to muster up pleasantries, Elizabeth often settled on the pianoforte as the way to pass what free time she had to spend with him. She could admit to herself that she enjoyed it, too. Not only the playing, but seeing how well it soothed him.

One morning, while Bingley was upstairs with Jane and the babies and Elizabeth was playing for Mr. Darcy, there came the distinct sound of a carriage arriving. Mr. Darcy grew noticeably tense, before seeming to force himself into a more relaxed state. He picked up his paper from a side table and made a show of studying it. Elizabeth stopped playing and moved to sit across from him, taking up her embroidery to appear ready for visitors. A footman announced Lady Catherine de Bourgh and Miss de Bourgh.

Elizabeth regarded them in mild surprise. She remembered both women from her stay in Kent, but couldn’t imagine what they were doing in Netherfield. They couldn’t have been invited, for Jane and Bingley would surely have told her.

“Darcy, what are you doing?” Lady Catherine asked imperiously as they rose to greet her.

“What do you mean?” Mr. Darcy replied.

He didn’t look at the departing servant, but Elizabeth was sure he was acutely aware of the man. She certainly was.

“Would you care to be seated, Lady Catherine, Miss de Bourgh?” Elizabeth asked. “I can send for refreshments, if you like?”

“Mr. Collins wrote me that you are going under another name,” Lady Catherine said to Mr. Darcy, marching over to a chair without acknowledging that Elizabeth had spoken. “It’s disgraceful and inexcusable. No good will come of it.”

“I’m quite sure I sent you a letter explaining myself,” he said, his tone mild. He retook his seat, nodding to his cousin in greeting. “Anne, it’s good to see you.”

Miss de Bourgh nodded back, sitting, and Elizabeth retook her place, ignoring the look Lady Catherine gave her. She supposed the esteemed lady would prefer there be no witnesses to a family squabble, but she wasn’t going to be ordered out of a parlor in the home where she lived, and where Lady Catherine hadn’t even been invited.

“You’re deliberately keeping Georgiana from her husband,” Lady Catherine said.

“Georgiana’s husband left her without a roof over her head and without any money. I would say he deserted her,” Darcy said.

“Did you look for him? There is no reason to hide her from him.”

“There is every reason. He left her when she was pregnant. If he does so again, who knows what will happen to her and the child.”

“That’s his problem, and hers, but not yours.” Lady Catherine raised her chin, looking down her nose at Mr. Darcy.

“If Georgiana is in trouble, it is always my duty, and desire, to help her,” Mr. Darcy said in a firmer tone than he’d yet employed.

“When she married, she promised to forsake all others.”

“I never promised to forsake my sister.”

“You could have found Mr. Wickham and returned Georgiana. If necessary, you could see they have enough to live on.”

“How would I be sure that any money I gave him was spent on her and the baby? He could take all the money and leave again.”

“I certainly don’t know, or care,” Lady Catherine said.

Darcy cast a beseeching glance her way, and Elizabeth decided she should leave, after all. It was one thing to disregard Lady Catherine’s imperiousness, but another to ignore Mr. Darcy’s mute appeal. It was obvious that talk of his finances was embarrassing to him. She wished he didn’t care so much about his lack of money, for she never would, but this wasn’t the time to try to convey that. This was a private conversation, among family, and Elizabeth wasn’t actually a part of their family, as much as she sometimes felt she was of late.

She stood, setting aside her embroidery. “Excuse me.” She wasn’t sure if Lady Catherine even heard her, although Darcy stood for her exit.

“Georgiana is no longer your responsibility,” Lady Catherine said. “You should care for Anne, not your sister. She needs you and when you marry her, you will have Rosings to occupy you.”

“I was never engaged to Anne and I am not going to marry her,” Darcy said.

That was the last thing Elizabeth heard before she was too far away to overhear more. As much as she was uncomfortable hearing even what she had, Mr. Darcy’s declaration sent an odd thrill through her. He had not given her the impression, when at Rosings, that he protested the union. Had something happened to change his mind? Could, possibly, that something be her? It seemed her list of reasons why Mr. Darcy was an unsuitable match for her was eroding, and Elizabeth wasn’t sure she minded.