Page 13 of The Difference of a Darcy
And then another woman entered. A second figure, smaller, with her hair in a tidy bun tucked under a cap, smiling quietly. She took Mr. Collins’ arm and gave Lady Catherine a composed curtsy.
Darcy blinked.
Who…? What…?She looked vaguely familiar, and Darcy could faintly remember Elizabeth speaking with her on several occasions in Hertfordshire. It was she who urged Elizabeth to play one evening at a dinner party.
Lucas Lodge… Miss Lucas… Charlene? Cherise?
His heart gave a sickening twist of relief—and something close to mortification.
Lady Catherine was now greeting theactualMrs. Collins with a blend of scrutiny and condescension. Mr. Collins had not clarified, and Elizabeth had not corrected.
Of course she would not—not here, not in front of the room. She is too refined for that.
Yet Darcy had believed it. For a full minute, he had believed it.
But Elizabeth wasnotmarried. Not to Collins.
He nearly had to sit—he felt a bit faint.What a strain on my nerves, he thought, then flushed slightly at realizing he sounded exactly like Elizabeth’s mother in that moment.
Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes at the unfamiliar face beside the Collinses and pursed her lips. “What is this? I trust, Mr. Collins, that you have not returned withtwowives.”
Elizabeth’s eyebrows arched slightly. Mr. Collins turned red to the tips of his ears.
“No—no indeed, your ladyship!” he spluttered. “This is—this is Miss Elizabeth Bennet, my cousin. She has been so good as to accompany us from Hertfordshire and spend the holiday at the parsonage.”
“Your cousin, and yet not also your wife’s sister?” Lady Catherine’s gaze narrowed at the sniveling man. “Does this mean you didnotmarry one of the daughters from whom the estate was entailed?”
Darcy stiffened.
“I—I did not,” Mr. Collins confessed with a nervous glance toward his wife.
“I gavespecificinstructions, Mr. Collins,” Lady Catherine snapped. “You were to mend the injury done to the Bennet ladies by uniting the estate and family through marriage. That is what a conscientious clergyman would do. That is what Iexpected.”
Mr. Collins gulped and looked—inexplicably—at Elizabeth, who was now frowning and looking at her friend in concern.
What the devil is going on?
Chapter 3
Elizabeth was not amused.
At first, it had been nearly comical—stepping into the drawing room of Rosings and finding its mistress every bit as imperious, overbearing, and self-satisfied as Mr. Collins had breathlessly described. Elizabeth had expected grandeur, hauteur, and some degree of foolishness from Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
But she had not expected this.
To speak so, she thought furiously,in front of me. In front of Charlotte.
Elizabeth stood rigid beside her friend, her hands folded tightly in front of her to keep from clenching them. Charlotte’s face had paled; her chin quivered just slightly despite her best efforts. Mr. Collins, for his part, looked as though he might sink into the floor.
And Lady Catherine went on blithely, tearing through them all with the precision of a blunt axe. “You were to mend the injury done to the Bennet ladies by uniting the estate and family through marriage,” she declared. “That is what a conscientious clergyman would do. That is what I expected.”
Elizabeth’s vision blurred at the edges. It was not merely offensive—it was monstrous. She glanced toward Darcy, stillstanding stiffly in front of the chair nearest the hearth, only to find him watching the entire exchange with an unreadable expression.
His features were still, almost grim.
Of course,she thought bitterly.He must be just as disgusted as his aunt. How dare the lowly parson marry a woman of his own choosing and not that of his patroness?
Her cheeks flamed.
