30 • Mother’s Intuition

Jane’s head lifted from the pillow, her eyes puffy with sleep. “Lizzy? You’re up?”

The answer came in the form of a clattering tray of tea on the bed. “Will you cut my hair?”

She could only stare at him while he went about the room, quiet for her groggy nerves, but nonetheless readying the vanity chair for the task. Sitting up and drinking her tea, Jane let the spark of lemon brighten her awareness as the rising sun did the same to the room. Eventually she ventured, “Did you sleep?”

“No. I’ll sleep later,” he replied, doubled over the basin as he washed his hair.

When Jane stood behind his seat, tying off her own and adjusting her nightgown sleeves, she asked, “Just how it was, then?”

“Shorter, please.”

Taking the shears in hand, Jane clipped his hair close to his nape and followed up the back of his head. Where his hair was parted off to the side, she now pulled it from the crown to fall over his forehead; the shortened tresses fell at a tousled, asymmetrical angle above his eyes. The floppy locks, the color of amber honey, began to curl at the ends as they dried, even more so as he ruffled his hair, sending it in random directions.

“Hold still,” she giggled, taking an unused polishing brush and swatting away bits of hair. Warming her favourite lemon oil on her hands, she ran it through his hair, reestablishing something pleasantly unkempt but still appropriate. “There now.”

James experimentally raked his fingers through it, combing it back and watching it slowly fall back over his brows. “Thank you.”

His sister’s demeanour faltered as she moved aside for him to stand and undress for further bathing. He made quick work of it and was already donning a new shirt when she asked, “Are you all right?”

James’ head perked up. “I’m fine.”

Jane squinted, her features pinching together as she chirped. “You’re sure?”

A smile of all things flashed on his face. “I’m very well. I’ll be downstairs.”

He left Jane in a confused state as he traversed the stairs and found his mother in her robe, speaking to Hill who had just arrived. “Morning, mama.”

He kissed her cheek the same moment she exclaimed, “Oh, darling! What do you want for breakfast? Absolutely anything you want—for no apparent reason. We’ve got sausages, don’t we, Hill?”

“We do, and the Mrs. sent me over with a pair of loaves to bake, ma’am,” he answered, heaving a woven basket upon the counter isle for her inspection.

“This many eggs? We can’t take them all from you—”

Hill curtailed, “We have the lot to spare, believe me, and the currant bushes are weighed down with so much fruit. Have your way with it.”

Mrs. Bennet crossed her arms around herself with a sigh, “I do wish we had raspberries to mix with the currants—Lizzy!”

James blinked against his mother’s hands turning his face to properly inspect his hair. Her astonishment eased into a grin as she cooed, “Oh, it was Jane who did it? You look marvelous. Like a gentleman from London, I reckon.”

“I thought it was time,” he admitted, gently removing her hands so he could light the coals of their oven.

“I didn’t mind it long, you know,” she declared while taking a seat at the counter. She plucked a long sprig of chamomile blossoms from the glass carafe that had been improvised as a vase. “There’s something gallant to long hair—not that short hair is unseemly. It connotes a handsome tidiness.”

“I’ll have to try again, then. I despise living up to honourable expectations,” he teased, earning a smirk and a swat from the plant.

His mother observed Hill’s leaving the kitchen, likely to relay to Mr. Bennet certain details of the farm’s wellbeing this morning. “I must say, you’re rather cheery after such a night. We needn’t talk about it! I won’t ruin the mood further than this.”

“Mama, it’s fine,” he hushed, pouring her tea.

Prompted, she commenced, “The nerve! Of course I had a good notion after all that ridiculous Collins has said, but one must keep the benefit of the doubt close at hand. After meeting that ladyship, I’ve quite lost any desire to meet another!”

“They’re not all bad.”

“Oh?” she chimed, letting her jaw rest in her hand while she eyed him. “And when were you going to tell me there was a charm I wasn’t seeing in his lordship?”

Jamie’s hands froze around the ceramic jar of sugar. “I…I never really thought you knew…”

“Darling,” she scoffed. “What can you possibly mean? I told you before: never mistrust a mother’s intuition! How could I not have known after that dreadful business with Jane’s first suitor? I know illness of the heart when I see it. Although I never expected you to open your heart to Lord Darcy. Then again, he is handsome. I admitted that the moment I saw him.”

“He’s more than handsome—and I don’t want to hear a word about his money,” he added quickly, feeling giddy with something like embarrassment as well as if the waters of his soul were finally calming after years of trepidation.

Mrs. Bennet waved her hand, declaring innocence until she shook her head coyly. “You do aim high.”

“I wasn’t aiming!”

She smirked. “So when can I expect him? Or has he run away to London to avoid this whole business of his aunt’s?”

“He hasn’t run away,” James defended tiredly.

“Good! I would certainly forbid this pairing if he were a coward. It is not your duty to be brave for the both of you, not where the heart is concerned. I would never forgive him if he abused you in such a way. Nothing is worse than a lover who takes instead of loves. Thank you,” she finished, accepting her cup of tea.

She slid off the stool to go dress while chiming over her shoulder, “Best keep at it. I can already hear your sisters descending, and they will be most ornery with nothing in their bellies.”

James could not help but smile and laugh to himself as Kitty arrived with her amber and golden curls wild around her head. Mary’s loose braid hung around her waist as her slender fingers closed around a cup similar to how Jane took her tea. When Kitty began unloading spoonful after spoonful of sugar into her cup, James swiped it from her with a complaint for her teeth.

“Come on, Lizzy! I’m tired!”

“Then wait for breakfast!”

Kitty exclaimed rudely, “Agghh!” which James simply matched until Mary’s giggles calmed the room.

Mr. Bennet followed the chatter into the kitchen, where he observed his children for a long moment before he descended the stairs and handed James one of the dishtowels. Without thinking, James took it, incidentally trading his cup of tea. By the time James realized his mistake, Mr. Bennet was already sipping contently. “Ah, perfect.”

“Wha—Wait!”

“Thank you very much,” Mr. Bennet cooed on his way out. He heard the fading laughter of his daughters as his wife intercepted his path to his study.

“Husband, dress yourself! We are to have visitors.”

“I benevolently refuse until I’ve finished my tea.”

But his wife hissed, “From our bedroom window, I’ve just seen your daughter’s fiancé riding up to our house this very moment with Lord Darcy! Dress yourself! Our son’s happiness is very much at stake!”

She shuffled off, heralding Mary and Kitty to do something with their hair, but before she could justify their getting dressed, Mr. Bennet found himself back in the kitchen as well. “Jamie. I’m peckish for blueberry cake in particular, and there’s a bush right in between Hill’s property and ours. I’ve kept it secret from him for years; it’s technically his. A cup should suffice. You’ll have no trouble finding it. Mind the thorns.”

James caught the tin cup used for measuring cream, but exclaimed, “Why don’t you go?”

“Oh, I’m far too busy enjoying my tea,” he replied, sipping accordingly. James’ features pinched in disgruntlement as he marched out the door.

Mrs. Bennet, upon observing James vanish outside, reached for a shelf where a glass jar was clearly filled with dried blueberries. “Mr. Bennet?”

He set the tea back on the counter before answering, “There are few occasions when our son is so distracted. The timely reappearance of Mr. Darcy foretells that he has a great many things to say. If our son’s happiness is at stake, the man must speak for himself.”

Jane heard this all from the corridor, her head turning at the sound of Charles’ familiar knock. Between her sisters descending the stairs and Hill’s asking, “Would you like to get the door, Miss, or shall I?” Jane was roused from her thoughts. Taking Kitty and Mary in hand, she directed them to the parlour.

“You may do so, Mr. Hill, and I suppose breakfast will involve two more plates, if you please.”

“What’s happening?” Kitty exclaimed when Jane directed her siblings onto the sofa. “Who is here? Not that horrible woman again? She was so rude to you!”

“Hush, Kitty, please,” Jane stymied, quickly moving about the room to make it fit for guests.

Jane had never silenced Kitty before, and the result was bewildered obedience. Mary took her hand, equally shocking her before the former explained, “Sometimes observance is the conduit for answers.”

While she spoke, the door opened, and Charles appeared in the doorway with his lordship behind him—only to bump backwards as Charles moved aside. “Mrs. Bennet! Please, after you. Good morning, Mr. Bennet!”

“No need to be so formal!” they heard their mother proclaim. “I do believe we are past all that. After you, after the both of you.”

They did see her skirts fold in her curtsy to Darcy before the four of them entered the room. Jane could not help but notice Darcy’s leaning a bit to see down the corridor the same moment Kitty whispered, “Where’s Lizzy?”

“He’s outside,” Jane finished.

She passed a reassuring smile to Charles, who came to stand beside her and take her hand while he announced, “I must apologize twofold. One, for disturbing you all before you’ve even had your breakfast, and second—”

“Because of me,” Darcy’s velvet tone intercepted. Charles sent him a concerned look before the man insisted, “It’s all right. She’s my aunt. I had hoped to intervene in Lady Catherine’s arriving here. Instead I not only failed, but she called at a most inappropriate hour concerning not just my personal affairs, but one of your own.

“My aunt is…known for her insensitive manner and directness of speech. I do not name these attributes as excusatory of her behaviour. She is not the sort of person to be sorry for anything, but I am. It is, of course, each of your decisions to forgive in any measure you see fit, but I can assure all of you that she has set off back to Hunsford this morning. I put her in the carriage myself with fresh horses.”

A stifling silence might have followed if it were not for Charles declaring, “Which was quite a feat. She’s bloody proud of those stallions.” He peeked down at Jane. “They match her phaeton.”

A high-pitched sound drew their gazes to Kitty covering her mouth. Mary’s eyes widened before soft giggles escaped her, warranting further stares from the room.

Mr. Bennet rumbled, “I like brief apologies.”

Mrs. Bennet chimed. “Yes, everything seems quite in line. Kitty and Mary, won’t you go prepare the table? Take care to set out eight places.”

“Really?” Charles blurted.

“Yes, of course!” Mrs. Bennet said with a wave of her hand. “In fact, as son-in-law, I might be so bold as to put you to work as well. The three of you will make a wonderful team. It is good for a man to know his way around the fork and spoon.”

Charles looked a mixture of relief and glee, and had every intention of taking Jane with him before she placed her other hand over his own. “I’ll stay a while longer.”

Charles absorbed this, and the state of the eldest Bennets standing opposite Darcy, who had not moved. An inquiring look to his friend earned a soft bow of his head, and Charles left the room without another word.

Mr. Bennet added on a lighter note, “Shall we take turns?”

Jane stood. “I will not take part in overwhelming someone who has just shown enough consideration in apologizing to all of us. I’ll be in the foyer.”

“Then I’ll be in my library,” her father seconded with a look to his wife. “Be gentle with him.”

She saved any retaliation in favour of closing the door and came to stand not far from her place just a handful of hours prior. After a long moment, with Mrs. Bennet’s gaze scrutinizing him, she uttered, “You are much altered, since I last beheld you.”

William nodded. “I am much altered. For the better, I think.”

Her skirts rustled as she moved, planting her weight as she voiced, “In traditional courtship, there is much fluttery and dance, which women have been forced into mastering, while men retain either indifference or disdain of such maneuvering. I now must agree with the latter, because this involves my son, who—as established just in the dark hours of his morning—is not inclined to anything traditional.

“So I will be brief. My opinion of you has not been fond during my knowing you, however my Jamie stood for you against not only your relation, but a person of immense privilege and renown.”

“I know,” he replied with solemnity. “I received a detailed retelling by her ladyship personally.”

“And what was your evaluation?”

“Relief. Immense relief. And hope.”

Darcy had succeeded in surprising her, allowing him to continue, “It is not lost on me how grave the circumstances are which my aunt presented to James, nor what his retaliation could inflict. I can only assure you that my aunt values upholding our families’ reputation, through either the elimination of what she deems a threat, or by stifling all knowledge of scandal. Charles is witness to my forcing her to choose the latter.”

Mrs. Bennet’s eyes widened, but otherwise she was silent. Her gown was loud in the quietude, her throat moving as she swallowed. “Whatever their faults or proclivities, I love each of my children, with my entire being. But Lizzy is the gem of this household, and he is in the most danger. As a mother of four girls, that is not an easy thing to say.”

“I understand,” and he did. As they gazed at each other, Mrs. Bennet’s age was more apparent than ever: the soft, weathered skin, the various spider webs of lines, and how her under eyes puffed with worry. It was a rare moment of tranquility that made William think for the first time that James rather looked like her instead of his father. “He will only stand for me the one time. He doesn’t stand alone any longer.”

Mrs. Bennet’s chest heaved with her long inhalation before she declared with lighthearted composure, “Good! It is exactly as I would have it. I won’t stand for this to begin with a temporary mindset. You will not be one of those individuals who changes their mind in favour of cruelty or the result of boredom. My Jamie is not the kind to tolerate such disregard.”

“Never in the world, ma’am, so long as Jamie is in it,” he uttered softly, with as much readiness as she had spoken. It had quite taken her by surprise, the reassurance of it, his calm sincerity. “May I ask, where is he?”

“Mr. Bennet has run him on an errand, so that you may run this gauntlet of ours. You will have a lot of us to answer to, you know! Should anything happen—”

The smile on Darcy’s face as he lowered his head to chuckle caught her off guard. “Yes, ma’am. I understand. Thank you.”

Mrs. Bennet was quite wrung out. Her whole body bobbed with her nod, and then she was arriving at the door. “I hope you like blueberry cake, because Mr. Bennet has ordered more of it than we’ll ever reasonably finish.”

She exhaled a vocal, “Oooh,” on her way through the corridor, leaving William to find his own way to the foyer, where Jane met him with the invitation, “Are you too hungry for a brief walk?”

Something moved behind his face, a twitch of a smile. “Not at all.”

At his gesture, she went first and he closed the house behind them. “Congratulations on your engagement.”

Jane made a sound of surprise. “Thank you, my lord! Um, might I—”

“William is fine.”

“William,” she chimed, “I’ve wondered if I’ve missed something. My brother’s demeanour hardly matches what it ought to after last night.”

“I was able to meet with him at dawn, quite by accident.”

Jane knew she wore a silly grin on her face, but made no efforts to quell it as she saw how her glee brought a wash of scarlet to his lordship’s cheeks. “All this is formality, then.”

“But no less necessary.”

“You needn’t be defensive. Your immediate arrival and apology is just the respect we desire. The romantic company my brother likes is a secret only to Lydia and our extended family. For as much as my mother talks, you wouldn’t expect her to keep it from her own siblings, though I sometimes wonder if they know, in their own way. Lydia is, of course, too involved in her own self to pay anyone else much attention. You are quite safe with us.”

Jane let that linger between them as she guided their path around the front garden. When he was ready, William said, “I am surprised by how simple my reception as been so far.”

She chuckled, “We’re not complicated people. We love whom we love, and so long as respect is maintained from both sides, we’re not ones to cause trouble.” Darcy followed her gaze back to the house when she leaned forward. “It’s not Pemberley, but it’s home, and it’s ours. And for a lot of Jamie’s life, he wasn’t sure of that. Not until his fifteenth year.”

“He’s told me of it,” William said in a tone that did not require further details.

However Jane pushed on, “But how much? He won’t discuss it now, even with me.”

“Then I cannot place myself in a discussion he would despise.”

“Oh, I can. I’m his sister,” she chimed, earning a startled laugh from the man.

“You very much remind me of my own sibling.”

“I’d be thrilled to meet her. James had only nice things to say of her and Pemberley. Particularly the dogs. Our cat, Alyss, is so territorial, he’s never been able to have a dog. But he’s never complained. James was almost lost to us, if it hadn’t been for Alyss and our father.”

William said nothing, letting her speak. She gave him a reassuring smile. “I knew something had happened in Derbyshire the moment we met again in London. My brother is prone to mental afflictions; periods of melancholy which, thankfully, rarely escalate into his traveling to a place we cannot touch. Perhaps it was your presence in Derbyshire that kept him close, or the need to care for Kitty, or the familiarity of it, but at fifteen, he had none of those circumstances. I say none of this in an attempt to scare you away.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he calmed. “As far as I can tell, his emotional escalation is not unwarranted.”

“Yes,” she sighed. “There’s always a reason… I would say his head is perfectly level on his shoulders, like our father, but he inherited our mother’s heart. My father is often too calm, to the extent of being entirely unbothered despite the worst of events, whereas my mother is tumultuous. Lizzy has been both fortunate and cursed to inherit both attributes: his mind is strong but his heart is a storm.”

“Your uncle Gardiner said something similar.”

She smiled, but her eyes saw far away. “I have always liked to think of myself as invincible when I am with him, but this is untrue. This is his ability, which I have only shared via proximity. To be with my brother is to be with a force of nature. At sixteen, I did not understand him; I simply wanted the opportunity to share his time, but who wants to be with their siblings at fifteen? I took his annoyance at my intruding on his friendship to be that very reason. It was not until that friend proposed to me, until I ignorantly accepted, that I understood anything.

“He broke Wickham’s nose, you know, for taking advantage of Lydia.”

William blinked, caught between the subject change. “Yes, and chipped a tooth, he said.”

She hummed in affirmation. “Because you had already settled their marriage and Wickham’s new position. Our father had to intervene when James discovered I was engaged to his lover.”

Jane peered at him, observing how that settled. “Thing is, Jamie has never been angry with me. Anyone else would have seen me as the one intruding on his relationship, but as he beat that poor fool with a cricket bat in this very garden, he was screaming how my fiancé wasn’t good enough for me. My brother, who had never shown me any regard…and why should he? I was just one of his annoying sisters…

“But I wasn’t. I realized, even in his anguish, he loved me more than himself. Then he fainted in papa’s arms, and didn’t get out of bed for two and a half months.”

She sniffled, but only briefly, and cleared her throat. “The irony is that he believes he is nothing; that all he has to offer is his presence. He hasn’t fathomed how potent he is.”

She met Mr. Darcy’s gaze suddenly, her eyes clear. “Jamie feels things passionately, entirely. That much I’ve known, because I have seen his intelligence and awareness of society lock these traits inside of him. All I have been able to do is watch him suffer.”

Though she did not say it, the question was there: the accusation that she would not trust her brother in his care unless he was able to safeguard James’ happiness.

“I cannot guarantee that he won’t suffer with me. I am stubborn to a fault, and steadfast in my wants—”

Jane laughed, “Good! It would be dangerously idealistic to hope the two of you would never disagree or argue. It is only human to warrant discomfort on occasion.”

She turned back toward the direction of the house, moving along with the house on one side and the farm on the other while Darcy spoke. “I take Jamie’s discomfort more personally than is perhaps rational, but I intend to inspire more occasions of happiness than the alternative.”

Jane smiled up at him as they arrived at an open door into the house. “I look forward to seeing it. Just there, on the left,” she pointed into the house. “Don’t let the door fool you, papa’s waiting.”

William’s expression softened when she passed by him with a hand on his arm and the other knocking on her father’s study door. It was only just ajar, but William answered the summons within and shut it behind him. Mr. Bennet was standing at the window, an open book in his hands. Without preamble, he said, “If you’re to join this family, you’ll have to do away with the title in domestic situations.”

“I am content being called William. But Fitzwilliam is my cousin.” The tinge of mirth in his tone drew Mr. Bennet’s gaze from his pages.

“That is a good start. You have a lot in your favour at the start. More money than you’ll ever know what to do with, a family estate, and most would consider your having one sister a benefit, however your aunt certainly makes up for having a lack of in-law relations. But that is nothing at all to do with your character.

“We have known you to be a proud, unpleasant sort of man, but this would be nothing if Lizzy really liked you. And yet…after the confrontation last night, my son displays none of the weight his mind has previously done in past years. He is happy this morning. Am I right in assuming you are responsible for this?”

William realized he had been holding his breath. “If I may be so bold as to claim such a privilege. I had the luck of coming across him early this morning.”

“Then your hearts are very much settled?”

“Mine is, and I was given the promise that his is as well. Do you have objections?”

Mr. Bennet took his time closing his book, setting it down on the windowsill, and turning to lean his pelvis against it. “I am not a religious man, William. I ceased with all of it when I understood how money ruled this country, not faith. It has ostracized me from my family, but I never missed them because my wife’s relatives embraced me readily. My highest priority has been crafting my children into the best people they can be. I cannot say I have been successful with them all, however I adore them each in a way you may or may not ever understand. When they are in pain I feel it in the marrow of my bones, and my James has experienced too much pain.

“London physicians would diagnose him with the general term, ‘madness.’ The religious would have him treated and likely killed in the process. The evolutionists would call him peculiarly natural; men and dogs and primates have had same sex relations for longer than religious types care to admit.

“I call him my son. He’s my Jamie. That is all. Do you understand?”

William held his gaze steadily, his amber irises bright. “I do, sir.”

“If I entrust him to your care, I am trusting you with more than his safety; his happiness and his pain, his laughter and his tears. If you will not treasure them all, you will do more than dishonour yourself: you will never deserve him.”

The answer was ready upon William’s lips, his words more sure than any he had ever spoken. “On the contrary, Mr. Bennet, it will be my constant study to know James’s pleasures, his laughter, and his tears. I will consider my life well lived so long as I am able to share in his happiness and his laughter, but when the others should appear, I will be his constant ally. I do not ever intend to take him so far from you that you cannot reach him, and I will never allow someone else to remove him from me, unless he chooses to himself.”

Mr. Bennet’s crossed arms slowly relaxed, and his head turned at the distant sound of a door shutting. “Well then. I think it’s rather time for us to complain about food until it is presented to us. You may find your beloved in the kitchen. He may be a bit scratched up. Our wild blueberry bushes are more treacherous than you’d imagine. Straight down the corridor. You’ll find your way.”

* * * * * * *

James came through the kitchen door feeling both worse for wear and invigorated by the morning sunlight. Though his eyes ached from lack of sleep, he set the tin of berries on the counter and found his former cup of tea gone cold. Nevertheless, he drank the mug dry, and rotated to rifle through the basket Hill had moved to the stove counter. As he counted eggs, he let his thoughts wander among recent memories.

“You’re sure? It’s a long walk.”

“I want to,” William had soothed, taking Jamie’s hand and starting their progress back to the house after they came down from the fence. Eventually he had not been able to contain his giggles, inducing William to inquire, “What?”

“You’re walking me home. How chivalrous.”

“It would be truer to say I am having trouble letting you go.”

“I won’t vanish when the sun is up.”

“But you’ll let me verify that for myself.”

James put the eggs inside the large jar of flour so he could move them all to the island counter, but with the sight of William coming down the three stairs, it was all James could do to gawk and hold the vessel against his torso. “This is a kitchen.”

William gazed at him, coming right to the opposite side of the counter while Hill bowed. “I am aware. You may stand, sir, please don’t mind me.”

“You’re in a kitchen!” James piped.

“I don’t burst into flames from being next to a stove,” William assured. He slid onto one of the stools while he elaborated, “As a child, I demanded to be wherever the food was, even if it was not yet at table. The habit returned once I inherited the house…however my cooks are frighteningly territorial. They were far more tolerant when I was a child.”

“As big as you are now, I can see why,” James murmured, breaking the eggs into a bowl. Then his head jerked up. “How long have you been here?”

However he was not given an answer, as William reached across the counter to carefully pull a small branch from his hair the same moment Mrs. Bennet arrived. “Lizzy, you’re free to use those, but your father’s neglected the entire jar, just there.”

She pointed at the shelf on her way to the kettle hanging over the fire. “You haven’t poured him tea yet? Oh, isn’t his hair lovely? Jane cut it just this morning. Lizzy dear, you need to pull a comb through it. Darcy, what do you put on your toast?”

A clumsy smile lifted his lips. “I’m not particular, but I enjoy jam.”

“We’ll have currant jam for the next year,” she scoffed. Her head lifted to Jane on the stairs. “Jane, do help your brother with the cake. Kitty! Where’s she gone?”

“Turning the pages for Mary,” Jane replied, already sifting flour the same moment a piano was heard through the walls.

James set his elbows on the counter to catch William’s attention. He caught him stirring his tea. “You might want to wait in the dining room.”

His eyes peeked at Jane, who smiled as she moved for her mother to reach the stove. “We are energetic in the morning. A side effect of living on a farm.”

“I don’t mind,” he assured, his brow furrowing as he took a sip. “This is good.”

James smirked. “Two parts milk, one part cream.”

Mrs. Bennet turned around, frowning. “Did you hear someone at the door?”

Jane and her brother looked at each other, silently sharing that they had not heard anything, but James volunteered, “I’ll check. Can I put your coat in the dining room?”

But as William handed him the garment, he murmured, “You may check the pocket if you like.”

James was not sure what to infer from that, but as he hung the coat on the chair next to his own, he indulged. Inside the breast pocket was a sack of coffee beans, and a sprig of lucerne blossoms wrapped in a wet handkerchief. Smiling to himself, he held the items as he opened the door—

A familiar, pale face looked at him from under her parasol.

“Miss Anne—er, Lady de Bourgh,” James stumbled into a bow.