by Nicky Roth
Dashing into the bathroom Elizabeth stopped in her tracks in disbelief at seeing the disaster unfold before her eyes.
Great, the overflow of the bathtub was conveniently blocked by a towel she could barely discern beneath the frothy surface.
Just what she needed on top of everything else, a minor flooding and shit, how hot did her mother run the bath anyway? The water was positively scalding. She liked hot baths, but this was taking it to a whole new level, one could easily boil an egg in this one. And just how much bubble bath had her mother put into the tub? One bottle or rather two? The more the better, right?
Oops, to call the surface slippery would be like calling fire tepid. And sure enough, the thought had just crossed Elizabeth's mind, when, none too gently, she landed on her behind ending up on the frickin' rubber ducky she had gotten from Kitty for graduating from school and which now made a somewhat pathetic squeaking noise that turned into an almost sickening gargle as the water got into the squeaking mechanism, or how ever one would call that thing making the sound. Poor thing!
'Oh, Lizzy, what did you do now? Why is the whole bathroom under water?'
Yes, why indeed? Good question. She was pretty positive that it hadn't been her leaving the towel where it was. As a matter of fact, she had never put any towel anywhere here, since she had used this bathroom but once and that had been on her hen night and the towels she had used to nights ago had long since ended up in the wash.
'I'll just go and get a few more towels, okay? I just turn off the water first.'
'But by the time we've tidied up, the bath will be cold and then we have to run you another bath and the time... - Lizzy, we don't have the time for all of this!'
Yes, with any luck.
By the way, wasn't it the bride who was supposed to be a bundle of nerves not the mother of the bride? Well, never mind, her mother's present state of mind would do for more than one wedding when it came to that.
On the upside, it could only get better from now on. So, fingers crossed.
Shit, it was tricky to get up without any friction and nothing to hold onto within reach.
'Morning. - Oh, bloody hell! What is this? Pandemonium or something?'
Never in her life would Elizabeth have thought she could be this happy to hear Lydia's voice or receive her helping hands as she unceremoniously waded through the flood in the bathroom in her socks first pulling up her sister and then turning off the water at long last. Three cheers for Mary and her knitting skills! And bless Lydia also for her unexpected presence of mind.
Ever since she had been made to help around the farm, she really had grown to be a quite sensible girl. Who would have thought?
'Okay, mum, you know where the laundry is, so I suggest you get a shit-load of towels and in the meanwhile, Lizzy and I see what we can do. Now go!'
Surprisingly enough their mother complied without any further ado.
'Thanks, Lyddy. By the way, why are you up already?'
'I always get up around half six these days and seriously, with all that racket, who can sleep anyway? Kitty and Georgie are up as well, naturally since we all woke up from all the ruckus going on. Is that your dress? It's lovely! The fabric is absolutely stunning. Where did you get it from?'
'Thank you. Mum thinks it's too plain. And I got it from Westerham Bridal Parlour. Actually, Lady Marjorie gave it to me after I saved her life. Long story.'
'Ha, when I get married someday, I know where to go then,' Lydia grinned. 'Not that I'm in a rush. By the way, did you see how Wickham has been hitting on Mary King? Seriously, that guy creeps me out. He's doing that to every girl, I tell you. As long as he thinks he can get into her knickers at least. I suggest you keep the bedroom doors locked tonight, just for safety, unless you want random couples romp around in your beds.'
'You, Lyddy, start to sound astonishingly sensible, if I may say so.'
'Someone has to be since you and Jane are out of the house, you know?' her youngest sister dead-panned.
But she had a point. And a good one at that.
And more importantly, Lydia managed to keep their mother busy enough for the rest of the morning as to make it possible to get ready in relative peace. Well, that was until the hairdresser arrived.
'No, you have to do something extraordinary with your hair, Lizzy! Your dress is already so plain, at least your hair has to stand out...'
'You are absolutely right, mum,' Lydia seconded her, much to Elizabeth's horror.
WTF?
'You know what, Mum, why don't you go first to give Lizzy an idea of how it should be done?' Lydia continued, while Jane who was standing right behind her barely managed to suppress a grin.
'Oh, you really think so? What a fantastic idea!' their mother beamed broadly.
Okay, she took that back, her sister was ingenious. And as it was, about half an hour later her mother looked like a weird combo of a poodle and a flower girl.
'Perfect! What do you say, Lizzy?'
'Eh... - very nice. Really.'
'Oh, shoot, is it that late already?' again her youngest sister chimed up. 'You really need to get going mum, or you won't be dressed in time. And so do I. And Jane, too.'
Pushing their mother towards the door and closing it firmly behind herself, both Lydia, Jane and Mrs Bennet finally left.
Finally! Finally a bit of peace and quiet and just leaning back in her chair and let the hairdresser do her job. A few soft curls here and there, the rest of her wild mane neatly braided and pinned into a loose bun, sophisticated and simple - perfect. Now only the roses were missing and she was ready to go. Well, almost, she wasn't as yet wearing her dress, but thankfully the woman agreed to button her up only to stare at her in awe.
'Miss, you look absolutely stunning, if I may say so.'
'Thank you, Maud. And you did a brilliant job, if I may say so. It's not easy to tame my hair but you managed beautifully. Now I only have to avoid my mother until it is time to go to church.'
Chapter 62:
Mamma Mia, here we go again...
The house was in a buzz, to say the least, and that despite most guests staying in the hotel or alternatively in the holiday homes. Actually, looking closely there were not all that many people running around like headless chickens, it just so happened that Aunt Catherine was on one side of the hall and Mrs Bennet, sporting a very weird hairdo, by the way, on the other both giving contradictory orders resulting in the staff that was to prepare for the reception after the ceremony running back and forth without accomplishing much. In short, same old, same old.
Darcy, all dressed and ready and as nervous as any man on his wedding day, was glad to find his uncle out front already waiting for him and in him a pillar of stoic peace and quiet.
Okay, his nervousness was less based on him getting married, but on fearing how many things would get out of hand and wondering how quickly, and whether it was better to call the police, fire brigade and ambulance in advance just to give them a heads-up or wait just a little longer before the proverbial shit would hit the fan, since there was little doubt that it would.
On one hand, better be safe than sorry, on the other... - well, miracles happened. One never knew, all might go well after all, if only to spite his current trepidation. Damned if you do, damned if you don't, as always.
'Here, take a sip, Darcy, you look peaky,' the Earl remarked casually, holding out his hip flask.
'Eh, thanks, Uncle Edward, but I think I rather pass.'
'Are you sure you are up to this day all sober and level-headed?'
'Nope, but in the light of what happened the last time I got hammered, I still think being sober is the better option. And there is always later. Where is Aunt Margret?'
'Fair enough. Oh, she's down in the kitchen helping Mrs Reynolds with the champaignglasses for the reception. - By the way, I forgot to ask, what did you do with that sheep the other day?'
'Oh, it's still occupying the room after it made itself comfortable there. Didn't have the
heart to throw it out. - I called Mrs Younge to pick it up, obviously. Or rather both of them.'
'Both? Sure you didn't see everything double?'
'It was lambing. Long story, one to keep for other family gatherings. In a couple of years, I might even think the situation was funny instead of deeply mortifying. For now, I would say, let's go. You know tradition has it, that I shan't see my bride before she walks down the aisle and I, for my part, am ready to leave.'
'I guess it has something to do with my dear sister? By the way, if I may make a suggestion, park your car right at the entrance and leave the keys in the ignition so you can make your escape should it be necessary.'
'Cheers, that really helps with keeping me calm, and yes, it has, or at least half of it.'
'Pleasure, my lad.'
It sure was for his uncle, seeing that he was grinning from ear to ear.
'Oh come now, your bride will be lovely, even if she wears a sack, and you love each other, and that is all that matters, isn't it?'
'Yes,' Darcy couldn't help smiling.
Damn right, they loved each other and she was beautiful. And then there was their little surprise... - Life was just wonderful if perhaps a bit chaotic at times. Okay, a lot, and most of the time, when his mother in law and aunt were involved, but never mind. Now he just had to repeat that over and over again: Life was wonderful, no matter what; life was wonderful, no matter what; life was wonderful, no matter what...
They went by the stables to check how things were going with the carriages and sure enough, nothing to worry there, Phil had everything under control, which was more than he could say about himself.
It was pretty safe to say, that he had absolutely fuck all under control. Perhaps his uncle's suggestion wasn't all that bad of an idea. - No, life was wonderful, no matter what. It really, really was. Really, really!
Besides, it wouldn't be fair to leave everybody else to cope with this chaos. But then again, it hadn't been either him or Elizabeth who had created it in the first place.
'What the heck?' Uncle Edward suddenly blurted out, just as he pulled into the car park only to find that there was not a single square inch left to put his Rolls.
Good question, actually. What the heck?
There was no need to push the door to the chapel open since it already was and to his utter surprise the inside was literally swarming with people, and it was still a good forty minutes until the wedding was to take place. And, also a matter of course, none of their relatives was as yet there, while the pews were almost full already. At least they had as yet been aware enough to keep the two tiny front rows vacant, but to squeeze all of their family in there was perhaps a bit optimistic. Actually, looking closely, there were no longer only the Meryton-folks Mrs Bennet had invited so enthusiastically, nope, there were also many people from around here.
Jack, the butcher, the lady from the flower shop, Carl, the bloke who had recently purchased the farm a little down the road and, and, and. Whoever had spread the word of him getting married today, had done a thorough job it seemed.
By the way, where did all the heart-shaped, glitter-filled balloons come from that adorned the pews, the windows, either side of the altar and most importantly the antique crucifix? He was pretty sure that they had very clearly told Mrs Younge to only put up greenery.
Ah, there she was, looking just as irate as him at the display before her, hands on her hips and her cheeks flushed with anger. A sight that made most of her staff make a run for it. Mrs Younge angry was a pretty rare occurrence but if it so happened it usually was akin a bomb exploding. A nuclear one.
'You wouldn't know what is going on, would you?' Darcy approached her, his uncle tagging along behind him, open-mouthed - which really had to say something, considering that he was his sister's brother and the father of Eddy, George and Fitz.
'No, and before you ask, it wasn't me who put up those fugly balloons. I have no wish to get fired, you know?' she slightly smirked in reply though it was pretty obvious that she was still irked, or rather thoroughly pissed. 'Heck, they look tacky, and that is putting it nicely.'
They did indeed. Yes, ombre, or whatever it was called when one colour bled into the next, was all the rage of late, he knew as much from Georgiana, but while the bottom bit was kind of okay, colourwise, the top bit was fucking neon-pink. Yes, neon-PINK! And sure enough, the clear bottom exposed some more pink glitter within. Glitter, of all things! This eternal threat to one's sanity. Here, in a church of all places sacred, Satan had spawned.
When suddenly from seemingly nowhere someone started to play cheesy ABBA-songs at high volume, the tune reverberating around the packed room, it was time to flee. No looking back, just run for dear life!
Yes, life might be wonderful, no matter what, but enough was enough. This time around life would be wonderful somewhere else. Anywhere but here.
Plan B had just become necessary. Not that ten seconds ago he'd had a Plan B, but never mind, now he had, and he would go through with it, cost what it may. Pulling his uncle with him, Darcy literally stormed back to the car, plunked down behind the steering wheel while he left the Earl of Matlock to confusedly scramble into the passenger seat and sped off.
'Eh, nephew, what are you doing?'
'Getting married. But not here. Here's my mobile, call the priest and tell him to await us at his parish church in Lambton, then call Phil about the carriages and where to bring them and Tom Bennet to get our families over there. And only our families. I've had it! I for my part just quickly sneak upstairs and pick up Lizzy and off we go. Sod tradition. After all, this is an emergency.'
Sneaking upstairs via the servants' staircases was, in the light of what was going on out front, pretty easy. Except for an exasperated-looking Mrs Reynolds, who by now was done with her tasks and was merely hiding out down in the kitchen, he didn't meet another soul. No, it was not that he intended to evade the party afterwards, or anything, but it wasn't exactly too much to ask to have at least a nice and peaceful ceremony, was it? And that was exactly what he would have. Okay, and then perhaps think about evading the party. First things first, however, so...
Darcy didn't even bother to knock, he just stepped into his bride's room to find... - the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Damn, and in an hour or so, she would be his.
Picking his jaw off the floor, all he managed to stammer was: 'I... - I'm here to pick you up. Long story. I'll tell you in the car, but I'm... - I'm afraid we need to leave right now.'
'Okay. Is something the matter. Are you alright?'
'Perfect, it's just that... - As said, I'm going to tell you as soon as we're on our way. For now, we have to hurry. Damn, you look breathtaking, Lizzy!'
Smiling and blushing Elizabeth answered: 'Thank you. And I'm ready to leave anyway. Wasn't your uncle supposed to come back and get me after dropping you off at the church?'
'Yep, but...' he trailed off, peeking around the corner to see whether the coast was still clear. It was.
'You're going to tell me on our way,' his bride finished the sentence for him.
'Exactly. - Down the back stairs, please.'
'Why does this feel as if we are criminals on the run?'
'Eh...'
'Never mind, Will. By the way, you look stunning as well, if one is allowed to say so to a man.'
'Only you and to me,' Darcy grinned, for the first time in over half an hour while the two of them basically ran through the narrow servants' corridors of Pemberley House.
Finally, well, about two minutes later, they were seated in the classy Rolls Royce, while his uncle was now safely behind the steering wheel of his own car again.
'Lambton parish church, Sir?' he inquired, chauffeur-style as if he didn't know their destination, and besides, he was already rounding the corner and getting in line behind the buses.
Hiring the two mini-buses to get their families to church proved to be a brilliant idea, for this way, no-one could get lost. And obviously Tom Bennet had done his j
ob well and instructed the drivers exactly where to go whilst keeping everybody else in the dark. As it was, occasionally they could see the one or other confused face stare at them from the back row of the bus before them. - Kitty, Mary, Lydia and Georgiana, who wildly gesticulated as if wanting to tell him that thay had no idea what was going on.
Well, Elizabeth stared just as helplessly back at them as they were staring at her, occasionally shrugging her shoulders.
'Will, what is going on?' she eventually asked, when they were already half-way there.
'To give you an idea as to what was going on down at the chapel: people piling themselves on top of each other, no spaces left in the car park and balloons filled with glitter that seemingly popped up out of nowhere, plus someone brought a fucking stereo and is playing ABBA at an ear-splitting volume. - In short, we're getting married in Lambton. - With just the family present and then we see what is to be done later.'
All Elizabeth could say was: 'Mamma Mia, here we go again...'
She couldn't have said it any better. Though for once, Darcy was pretty sure that his mother in law had nothing to do with it. After all, she had been busy with the nursery, so that only left one obvious culprit, and sure enough, they had barely stopped in front of the church, the priest waiting with a slightly confused expression on his visage, when his aunt stormed over to him.
'Fitzwilliam, what is the meaning of this? I demand to know!'
'I'm getting married as I'm sure you know, Aunt Cathy.'
'But... - You were supposed to get married in your own little chapel, weren't you? I took such care and...'
'And told everyone who would stand still long enough to listen that they are all welcome to join us and also managed to organise some nice balloons to surprise us, glitter and all, and let's not forget ABBA, of course.'
'It was supposed to be such a lovely wedding, and now you've ruined it! I've planned many events, you know, and all of them were a complete success.'