Page 122 of Shields and Roses

"It is to your credit that you recognize a fine quality tea," Lady Ferrell replied. "There are those who will compliment no matter what they are served, although I know that is not your style. Again, there are some who complain even when offered a king's ransom, showing the smallness of their minds. That you can both recognize quality and comment on it shows some greatness of spirit."

Lady Catherine was taken aback by the comment, knowing she truly fell into the second category, but never having looked at her habit as anything other than an exercise of control and power. The unexpected thought distracted her enough that she failed to hear Lady Ferrell's next comment.

Noticing her guest's silence, lack of response and pensive look, Lady Ferrell cleared her throat loudly. "Lady Catherine? Are you well?" she asked.

The tea sloshed in the delicate china cup Lady Catherine held as she startled slightly. "What was that?" she asked as she was jerked out of her thoughts.

"I asked if you were well. You had not seemed to hear my earlier comment."

"Oh...of course," she said, although she still sounded and looked a bit distracted. "I am always well. Now, what were you saying?"

"I commented on how pleased you must be to have such an admirable young man as Sir Phillip to carry on the legacy that first Sir Lewis, and now you, have built at Rosings Park. He is a good friend to Martin, and I have met him on a number of occasions. I have always been impressed by his character, since he does not seem prone to those vices so often indulged in by young men with expectations."

Due to her years of spying on him, Lady Catherine knew the estimate of Sir Phillip's character to be true. She, herself, had never looked at him in so positive a light, but it did make sense.

"Well, he is a de Bourgh," she said proudly.

"I understood you had some doubts on that score at one time," Lady Ferrell said in a slightly challenging tone.

"Oh, there were vague rumors when he was young," Lady Catherine said, conveniently forgetting she was the one who had spread them. She waved her left hand airily as if to dispel any thought of them. Then, her posture and attitude stiffened again as she remembered the delicacy of the chair on which she sat. "One has only to compare his looks with a portrait of my late husband to know the truth," she continued more sharply.

"Well, I certainly have no doubts," Lady Ferrell asserted with a light laugh. "The young man personifies all the good I have known and heard of about the men of the de Bourgh family. I expect he will make an excellent master of the estate when the time comes that you hand management of it over to him."

The time to which the Countess of Boxwell referred was one of which Lady Catherine preferred to avoid thinking. Her only reply was a sound that fell between a sigh, a snort and a grunt. Lady Ferrell understood perfectly.

"Of course, it is always difficult to think of anyone taking our places. For instance, I know my eldest son's wife is an excellent girl and will manage this estate well, but I am hardly filled with excitement at the thought she might one day need to."

"That is how our children met!" Lady Catherine exclaimed, ignoring Lady Ferrell's statement as she finally understood what had eluded her since she learned of the marriage.

"Through Sir Phillip? Yes. My son was visiting him at the dower house when Anne stopped by during one of her drives. They became acquainted and continued to meet there, always under strict chaperonage from Mrs. de Bourgh, of course. I met with her there as well, when it was clear my son was decided on marrying Anne."

"You promoted this clandestine courtship?" Lady Catherine said, aghast at the idea.

This time, Lady Ferrell made no attempt to hide her amusement as she replied. "It was only clandestine with regard to you. You were so set on having your daughter marry her cousin no matter what they wanted, that everyone felt it was better you know nothing about the courtship. I did try to visit with you to at least sound out the situation, but you refused to see me. That is why we ended up planning and celebrating the wedding without you."

"She is my daughter! It is my right to say who she will marry!" Despite her best intentions, Lady Catherine could not contain her anger at being thwarted with what was apparently the active interference of this woman before her.

"Whether that is true or not, despite your best attempts you could not control the inclinations of your nephew, nor did you have the authority to force him to marry Anne. It is a matter of academics now, at any rate. Martin and Anne are very happily married."

Lady Catherine ground her teeth as she fought with the desire to throw her teacup at the other woman. A small wobble from the chair, reflecting the trembling of her limbs as she struggled to contain her anger, finally brought her back to her purpose.

"I should like to finally meet your son," she said, with the grimace she intended for a smile.

Lady Ferrell's smile was more genuine. "I am afraid that is not possible. The happy couple are on their bridal tour. They left just yesterday and I am not certain when they mean to return."

"Where have they gone?" Lady Catherine asked, a little too eagerly.

With another light laugh, Lady Ferrell answered, "Oh, I couldn't say. They promised to write when their plans to return are settled."

Lady Catherine could tell the other woman knew exactly where Anne and her husband had gone but was intent on keeping it secret. As the chair wobbled under her again, Lady Catherine decided she had enough of the interview. Carefully, she stood and offered a perfunctory curtsy.

"I thank you for your gracious hospitality," she gritted out in icy tones that told the truth of her feelings. "I have trespassed on your courtesy too long."

Lady Ferrell stood as well and returned the curtsy with grace. "Do come again, Lady Catherine. As you say, we are now family. I shall always have the best tea served for you."

It required a great effort, but Lady Catherine swallowed a sharp retort and left the room in silence. Her anger carried her rapidly out of the house and back to her carriage. As she stopped to give the coachman directions, she decided on a change. There was no point in returning to Rosings Park to fume alone. Wherever her nephews had gone when they left her home, Darcy was probably back in London now and, with any luck, Richard was with him. She would release her frustrations upon them.

"Head for London with all due speed," she told the coachman. "I intend to stay at Darcy House tonight."