She felt herself growing weak with need, drowning in the overwhelming force of his desire. Her skin yearned for him and her body leaned towards him. She felt as though they were not two separate beings but halves of the same whole, which had been long sundered and longed to be joined. He put his hands on her shoulders and her body grew heavy and languorous. He bent his head to kiss her and she felt his breath whisper over her neck like warm silk. She turned her head to expose her throat as her senses were consumed by him, mesmerised by his breathing and the hypnotic beating of his heart.
And then, like a sleepwalker awakened, she heard the wheels of a carriage as it pulled to a halt by the side of the lake. She heard the opening and closing of a carriage door and then a voice which was at once familiar and unfamiliar. Darcy lifted his head and Elizabeth, turning slowly, saw the figure of Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Beside her, pale and bloodless, was her daughter, Anne.
Elizabeth thought she must be dreaming. The swim in the lake, Darcy’s touch, her heavy languor, together with the strange and unsettling appearance of Lady Catherine and her daughter, all had the quality of something unreal. Lady Catherine seemed to be insubstantial and ghostly in the strong sunlight.
But as Elizabeth’s senses began to return to normal, she realised that it was not a dream, that she was awake, and that everything was happening.
Darcy pulled her behind him and she was glad of his protection because there was something menacing about Lady Catherine. At Rosings she had been dictatorial, at Longbourn she had been ridiculous, but here she was frightening.
She was dressed all in black. Her long black cloak hung heavily around her and a black veil hung from her black bonnet, covering her face. She was leaning on a black parasol, which she used like a walking stick.
‘How did she find us?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘We made no secret of our journey or our destination,’ said Darcy. ‘If she was in Paris, she had only to ask my relatives where I was and they would tell her.’
Lady Catherine took a menacing step forward.
‘So, you have done it. Against all advice, you have married this—person. I never thought to see the day when you would do something so stupid, you of all people, Fitzwilliam,’ said Lady Catherine.
‘You knew I was going to marry her,’ said Darcy inimically.
‘I knew you intended to marry her, but I thought you would come to your senses in time. I told you that she would be rejected by the family, or worse—you have been to Paris, you know that I am right. But you went ahead and married her anyway.’
‘I have a right to my own life,’ he said.
‘You have no rights! Marriage is a family matter. It is for those who are older and wiser than you to make the decision. It is not for you to indulge a whim.’
‘It is too late to complain now,’ said Darcy in a warning voice. ‘We are married; it is done.’
‘Aye, you are married,’ said Lady Catherine malignantly. ‘You did it behind my back, when I was out of the country. I should not have left, and I would not have done so if I had thought you would go through with this scandalous act.’
‘You should not have come here. Darcy and I are happy,’ said Elizabeth. ‘You tried once before to separate us and you failed. You should know by now that it cannot be done. Who are you to decide what we can and cannot do? It is time for you to accept it and leave us alone.’
Lady Catherine turned malignant eyes on her and Elizabeth felt afraid.
‘Be silent!’ she hissed.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
‘You should have married Anne,’ said Lady Catherine, turning once more to Darcy. ‘Anne is your mate. She is the one you were meant to marry. She is from an old and honourable family. She is the one who will keep the blood lines pure.’
‘It is too late for that,’ said Darcy darkly. ‘What is done is done.’
‘No,’ said Lady Catherine. ‘It is not too late. For our kind it is never too late. I only hope you come to your senses sooner rather than later, but you will come to them in time, that is certain. You cannot doubt it.’
‘Then leave me alone and let me enjoy it whilst I can,’ said Darcy.
‘Enjoy it?’ asked Lady Catherine with a bitter laugh. ‘You will not enjoy it. Every moment will be a torment to you. You know you cannot marry a woman like this and be happy. Your pride should have prevented it, pride in who you are and what you are and a pride in your place in the world. And if your pride was sleeping then your conscience should have forbidden it.’
‘Enough!’ said Darcy. ‘You should go.’
‘The sight of you sickens me, so yes, I will go, but you have not seen the last of me,’ said Lady Catherine. ‘You will threaten us all if you pursue this course. It is up to you, up to all of us, to ensure the continuation of our kind, lest we become extinct. You have seen your fellows hunted down and slain, you know of what I speak.’
Elizabeth thought of the revolution and the rich and titled who had fallen prey to its merciless scythe.
‘That has nothing to do with me!’ said Darcy.
‘It has something to do with all of us,’ she said.
Then, giving him one last poisonous glance, she returned to her carriage, with Anne following her like a sorrowful ghost.
When she had gone, Elizabeth realised how cold she was. She had been stationary in the icy water for the length of Lady Catherine’s tirade, and she shivered.
‘You’re freezing,’ said Darcy, suddenly solicitous. ‘You need to get dressed.’
Elizabeth began to swim towards the edge of the lake. The water was very cold and her teeth were chattering as she reached the shore. She was about to climb out when she saw her maid, Annie, running towards her.
‘Ma’am, oh Ma’am, you’ve had a visitor,’ said Annie, beaming. ‘A very grand lady, a Lady Catherine de Something. I asked her to wait but she said she couldn’t.’
‘It is all right, Annie,’ said Elizabeth. ‘She found us.’
‘Us?’ asked Annie.
Elizabeth looked round and saw that Darcy had gone.
She had not seen him depart and she felt suddenly lost without him. She wondered why he had disappeared before realising that he had done it to spare her blushes and the blushes of her maid.
She let Annie help her out of the lake.
‘This water’s too cold to go swimming in,’ said Annie as she handed Elizabeth the towel. ‘You’ll catch your death.’
Elizabeth dried herself vigorously, her teeth chattering all the while, then she slipped into her clothes, but she was still shivering when she returned to the taverna. As soon as she was back in her room, she stripped off her damp clothes and sat in front of the fire whilst Annie rubbed her hair with a towel.
‘It was nice of Lady Catherine to come and wish you well,’ said Annie. ‘Mr Darcy’s aunt she said she was. Just visiting the Alps. She must have been surprised to find you here, too.’
Elizabeth did not reply. She huddled over the fire and then she began to sneeze.
‘There you are, what did I say, you’ve caught your death,’ said Annie, looking at her with a worried expression.
‘It’s nothing,’ said Elizabeth, ‘but I would like a hot drink all the same.’
‘I’ll get you one right away.’
Annie left the room, and when the door opened again, Elizabeth turned towards it with thanks on her lips. But it was not Annie who stood in the doorway; it was Darcy.
‘I heard you sneezing,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have left you in the lake for so long.’
‘It wasn’t your fault,’ said Elizabeth. ‘I knew Lady Catherine didn’t approve of our marriage, but I never thought she would pursue us on our wedding tour. Why did she do it? And why did she say all those terrible things?’