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  When the introductions were complete, Lady Susan directed a long look at Miss Bingley, wondering how open she should be with the girl. Moreover, she wondered if any advice she gave would be heeded. It was evident that Miss Bingley kept her own counsel with respect to her behavior, much to her own detriment.

  Lady Susan withstood Miss Bingley’s flattery for several moments—of course she could not be happier to make the acquaintance of Miss de Bourgh’s esteemed aunt, she was certain they would be excellent friends, and so many other things that Lady Susan had heard more times than she could count. At length, they began making their way down the street to where their conveyance waited, and the sisters were eager to accompany them.

  She might have been content to observe the woman’s ridiculous behavior in silent amusement, but then Miss Bingley decided to send another barb in Miss Elizabeth’s direction, and it raised Lady Susan’s ire. She could not help but respond.

  “On the contrary, Miss Bingley,” said Lady Susan in response to Miss Bingley’s insinuation that Lady Susan could not be sanguine about her nieces’ association with the Bennet sisters, “I am quite happy with both Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. They have become excellent friends to my nieces and, I dare say, will become excellent friends of mine.”

  It was to Miss Bingley’s credit that her smile did not slip a jot. But Lady Susan was not finished with her. She stopped walking, forcing Miss Bingley to halt along with her, though the woman was not as confident as she had been only a moment before.

  “Miss Bingley, let us speak plainly. In the short time that we have been together today, you have not only ignored the woman your brother is courting, but you have also attempted to disparage a good young woman of whom I think highly, and you have done so twice. I cannot account for such incivility.”

  Though she paled, Miss Bingley was clearly no coward. She shot an aggrieved look at the sisters who had continued some little distance ahead—along with Mrs. Hurst, who was looking back, her anxiety evident.

  “It does not follow that I agree with my brother’s pursuit of Miss Bennet, and I still have hope that I may convince him to end his fascination before it is too late. As for Miss Elizabeth . . .” Miss Bingley’s nose wrinkled as if a skunk had crossed her path. “She is the most impertinent, improper woman I have ever had the displeasure to meet.” Miss Bingley’s eyes sought Lady Susan’s. “I am sure you must agree with me.”

  “Your confidence is misplaced,” replied Lady Susan shortly. The smile ran away from Miss Bingley’s face. “Perhaps you do not recall, but in the past few moments I have praised Miss Elizabeth and her sister highly. In fact, I find both ladies delightful.

  “Regardless of what you think of them,” said Lady Susan, allowing her expression to turn harsh, “you invite gossip if you treat the object of your brother’s affections in such a way, and the manner in which you attempted to insult Miss Elizabeth is ridiculous. I do not know if you intended your words to be subtle, but your attacks were anything but, which shows a measure of desperation, in my experience.”

  Miss Bingley’s eyes were wide, as if she had never expected to be called out for her behavior. Lady Susan had just about had enough of this woman’s company, and she did not hesitate to finish stating her criticisms, so she could return to that which was more agreeable.

  “I am aware of your ambitions, Miss Bingley. Darcy is too, I might add. My advice to you is to cease making a fool of yourself—your wishes shall never be, for Darcy has no interest in you.”

  “I assure you, my lady—”

  “And I assure you that you are wasting your time. If Darcy wished to have you for a wife, he would have proposed long ago. Please do yourself a favor and cease to make a spectacle of yourself. Your attacks against Miss Elizabeth will not be tolerated again in my presence. If you choose to continue to treat Miss Bennet as you have, that is your choice, but I would advise you against it. It does not take much to start tongues wagging in London.”

  So saying, Lady Susan motioned toward the party, now waiting beside the carriage, and she began to walk, forcing Miss Bingley to scurry along beside her. It was not long before they had taken their leave of the Bingley sisters, but though the other ladies pressed her for an account of her conversation with Miss Bingley, Lady Susan decided she had said enough of the woman.

  Later, when she had returned to her home, Lady Susan was forced to confess that she had enjoyed plucking Miss Bingley’s feathers. There were few things as satisfying as pricking the conceit of a supercilious woman and exposing all her pretentions for what they were.

  Chapter XXIX

  While Elizabeth was enjoying herself at Mr. Darcy’s house, she knew that her time there was drawing to a close. As it stood, she had been away from home for three months, and Jane for more than five. Though their mother was eager for them to stay in London—much easier for them to find husbands there, to her mother’s thinking—Mr. Bennet was becoming more insistent about their return. This was made even more evident the day before the ball.

  As Jane was to attend, and their aunt and uncle would not, it had been decided that she would spend a few nights at Darcy house. Elizabeth could not have been more excited about her sister’s coming, and when Jane arrived, she was quick to grasp her by the hand and show her to her room, chattering the entire way.

  “Oh, it is good to have you here, Jane!” said Elizabeth, as her sister’s personal effects were placed in her room. “I have so missed being with you!”

  “I am happy to be here,” replied Jane in her usually calm manner. “And I believe Mr. Bingley will be by later to thank Mr. Darcy for the invitation to the ball.”

  Elizabeth looked at her sister, uncertain to what she was referring. Jane noticed it and said: “We will be attending a high society event, Lizzy, given by an earl and his wife. Mr. Bingley told me that he and his sisters rarely receive invitations to similar events, and when they do, it is always due to Mr. Darcy’s influence. Even so, he thinks this will be the most important event he has ever attended.”

  “Well, well,” said Elizabeth, “it appears Miss Bingley is not nearly so high and mighty as she might have thought. Do you know if the invitation has been extended to include his sisters?”

  Though at one time Jane might have been inclined to chastise Elizabeth for speaking in such a manner, it was clear her eyes had been opened, for she ignored the first part of Elizabeth’s statement. “They have been invited. However, Mr. Bingley has warned his sisters about what is expected of them when they attend, and Mr. Hurst has supported him.”

  “And the punishment if they step out of line?”

  This time Jane did roll her eyes. “Oh, Lizzy; it is not kind to be so gleeful at Miss Bingley’s expense.”

  “Not kind, perhaps, but she is eminently deserving.”

  Jane did not disagree. “I know not what Mr. Hurst has told his wife, though I believe she is of a more complying disposition than her sister. Miss Bingley, however, has been told that she will be sent to the north. As I understand it, she does not like it there. She visited me once these past days, and she was very kind and attentive.”

  When Elizabeth cast her a significant look, Jane only shook her head. “I am aware of Miss Bingley’s character, Elizabeth. You have no need to worry for me.”

  “I have no doubt of your discernment, dearest,” said Elizabeth, kissing her sister’s cheek. “But I have great faith in your ability to forgive and to attribute others’ actions to pure motives.”

  “I will not be used again.”

  It was the tone with which her sister spoke that reassured Elizabeth she was saying nothing but the truth. After Jane was settled, they returned to the sitting-room to attend their hosts, and there Elizabeth discovered she had received a letter. She knew from its thinness that it was from her father—his letters always had been known for their brevity—and the writing on the front confirmed it.

  “Well?” asked Anne when Elizabeth had read it. “What doe
s it say? Or is it a private communication from a gentleman which requires discretion?”

  Georgiana giggled, but Elizabeth only shook her head at her friend. “It is not private. It is from my father and, as I suspected, he is now insisting that we return home. I am afraid that Jane and I will need to return to Hertfordshire after the ball.”

  The expression Anne turned on her was unreadable for a long moment, then she shrugged. “It matters little at this point. Since Mr. Bingley is courting our Jane, I suspect he will simply follow her to Hertfordshire, and since he and Darcy are close friends, I have no doubt an invitation will be speedily issued thereafter. Thus, you may both continue your courtships in Hertfordshire!”

  “Anne!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

  But Anne only laughed. “Do not deny it, Elizabeth. It is nothing less than the truth.”

  Further protestation would only fuel Anne’s desire to tease, and Elizabeth was not about to grant her friend any further ammunition to use against her. She contented herself with a glare at her friend—which was not at all efficacious, as far as she could detect—and turned the subject to other matters.

  Before they could continue, however, the opening door caught their attention, and the housekeeper entered the room with a visitor following behind. Shocked, Elizabeth rose, noting that Anne had risen along with her.

  “There you are, Anne.”

  It was Lady Catherine.

  Stunned at the sudden appearance of her mother, Anne regarded her, noting the expression of haughty disinterest which was plastered on her face. She carried herself with the bearing of a queen, walking with a straight back and a regal air which seemed to suggest to anyone watching that she was a general inspecting her troops. As was her wont, she entered and, choosing a high-backed chair which was most like her favorite at Rosings, she sat and gazed out over them all.

  “Mother,” said Anne, hating herself for the hint of a tremor in her voice. “I had not expected to see you here.” Anne felt she her nervousness in a creditable manner—it would not do to show weakness to one such as her mother, who could sense it as a wolf smelled blood.

  “No, it appears you did not.” Lady Catherine looked out over them all. “Sit up straight, Georgiana, and do not slouch.”

  Though Anne could not see anything wrong with Georgiana’s posture, the girl jerked and attempted to sit up straighter. She had always been intimidated by Lady Catherine.

  “I see Miss Elizabeth Bennet is still here with you.” Lady Catherine’s feelings about Elizabeth’s presence were not clearly seen in her manner, but she gave Anne no time to think on the matter. “And I see you have another guest at present. I suspect that it is one of Miss Bennet’s sisters. Would you do the honor of introducing me?”

  “Of course, Mother,” said Anne, uncertain what to make of her mother’s behavior. “This is Jane Bennet, Elizabeth’s elder sister. Jane, this is my mother, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.”

  “I am happy to make your acquaintance, Lady Catherine,” said Jane, dropping into a respectful curtsey.

  Nodding, though not losing her regal nature, Lady Catherine replied: “I see, now, that your sister’s praise of you is not the idle boasting of a beloved sibling, Miss Bennet. Have you been here for long?”

  “I just came this morning, your ladyship,” replied Jane. “Your sister, Lady Susan, has kindly agreed to include me in an invitation to a ball to be held tomorrow at the home of one of her friends.”

  “I see.” Her mother was silent for a moment, and Anne wondered what she was thinking. Then her eyes found Elizabeth again, and Anne thought she detected a hint of tightening around them. “And you, Miss Elizabeth?”

  Elizabeth was quite obviously not certain what was being asked of her, and she did not hesitate to say it. “I am sorry, your ladyship, but I do not understand your question. Perhaps if you restated it?”

  “I am merely inquiring as to your presence here. Have you stayed with my nephew the entire time since you left my house?”

  “Yes, she has, Mother,” replied Anne, more than a hint of a challenge in her tone.

  “You may allow Miss Elizabeth to make her own reply, Anne.” She turned her attention back to Elizabeth. “I hope you understand the superior circumstances in which you have been housed, Miss Elizabeth, not to mention the condescension with which my sister has favored you.”

  “Indeed, I do,” replied Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy has a lovely house, and all your relations have been nothing but welcoming and kind. I could ask for nothing more.”

  “Of course,” replied Lady Catherine. “I would have expected nothing less.”

  “I will own to some surprise at your coming here, Mother,” said Anne, not willing to allow this interrogation to proceed any further. “I believe my uncle made it quite clear that you were to remain at Rosings unless certain conditions were met. I will repeat—your coming was quite unexpected, and I find myself wondering why you have come. Will you not explain?”

  “My brother does not control my actions,” said Lady Catherine. Her displeasure was evident, but rather than cow her as it might have in the past, Anne only found her annoyance rising.

  “No, I dare say he does not. But if you mean to restate those opinions you previously espoused, then you have wasted your time coming here, for I shall not be moved.”

  “I see your defiance has grown to much greater proportions than the last time I saw you,” said Lady Catherine, her nose wrinkled and her tone cross. “I begin to suspect that it was always there, though hidden. I previously thought that it was brought on by your association with . . . other persons. Now I am not certain.”

  “There is much about me you do not understand,” replied Anne, and even she was surprised by the bitterness in her voice. “Be that as it may, I would appreciate it if you would state the reason for your visit.”

  It was a surprise when her mother paused and darted a look at the other three ladies in the room. Normally she could be counted on to speak in a forthright fashion without delay.

  “Your companions will leave us now so that we may speak privately.” Lady Catherine turned to the other three women. “You may wait in the music room and return to attend me when Anne and I have completed our discussion.”

  Georgiana almost jumped from her seat in her eagerness to be out of Lady Catherine’s company, but Miss Bennet was much slower. Elizabeth, though she rose, turned to Anne, a question in her eyes. Though Anne had little wish to speak with her mother alone, a look at the woman seemed to suggest a hint of pleading in her eyes, though Anne could not be certain. She doubted her mother would ever humble herself enough to beg for an audience with her, but perhaps some good could come of this.

  “Very well, Mother,” said Anne, nodding slightly to Elizabeth. Ever the good friend and supporter, Elizabeth’s eyebrow rose, and though Anne would have preferred to have her friend here, she thought it unlikely that her mother would speak in a candid fashion if they were not alone. And Anne was no longer the quiet, accepting woman she had been before. If her mother meant to intimidate her, she would discover that to her detriment.

  The Bennet sisters filed from the room, leaving Anne alone with her mother, and when the door closed behind them, Anne turned and quite deliberately raised an eyebrow. Lady Catherine saw it and huffed with irritation. But rather than speak, she began to study Anne, observing her dress, her hair, her countenance, her eyes drawing a line from Anne’s head to her feet. This Anne bore with patience—it was like her mother, but also subtly different in a manner she could not quite determine.

  “It seems as if you are at least taking care for your health,” said Lady Catherine at length. “I almost might have expected Miss Elizabeth to drag you from here to there, putting you at risk in her eagerness to traipse all over the city. But I suppose being in London, she can hardly walk with such impunity as she does in the country.”

  “You are correct, Mother,” replied Anne. “Elizabeth must take more care here than sh
e would at her father’s home. But you are incorrect in the other part. I frequently walk with Elizabeth now, and though I cannot state with any truth that I am as strong as she, I have made great strides.”

  Her mother’s mouth opened, Anne thought to deliver a stinging rebuke, but she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she leaned forward and gazed into Anne’s face, peering with great concentration.

  “There seems to be some truth to your assertion,” said Lady Catherine, though her voice was soft and hesitant.

  “And your Cousin Darcy? Are you getting on well with him?”

  “That is where you need to cease speaking, Mother,” said Anne. “I will not marry my cousin. If you attempt to try to browbeat us into accepting your decrees, then you might as well have remained in Kent.”

  As if she were swallowing bile, Lady Catherine paused and shook her head. “I did not come to speak of that.”

  “Then why did you come?” asked Anne. “And what is the meaning of your question?”

  “I . . .” Lady Catherine fell silent, and Anne had the impression she was searching for the proper words. “When you left . . . left me in Kent, I . . .” Lady Catherine growled, a frustrated tone. “It led me to introspection. I realized that you had not truly known your cousin that well and what I took for a closeness between you was nothing more than an attempt to convince myself. I wondered if you truly knew him well at all.”

  Anne pondered how to respond to her mother. She was essentially correct, and Anne wished to ensure she understood it. But her mother’s manners, the stops and starts, the hesitation—none of these had ever been a part of her character as long as Anne could remember. Whether it meant she was softening her stance, Anne could not be certain, but she did not wish to say something she should not and ruin what seemed to be a more conciliatory stance from her mother.