“Thus I named you Elizabeth, and would brook no quarrel. And it has come to pass, Lizzy, that you are the only child who favours my side of the family, dark in your features and lively. You are the most intelligent, and today and hereafter, you will outshine all your sisters. When you stand up with Mr. Darcy, Jane will pale by comparison for everyone except Mr. Bingley, no matter how you wear your hair. Mr. Darcy will never notice your bonnet for the sparkle in your eyes and the wit in your smile.
“He loves you dearly, Lizzy, as he has never loved before, I would wager. I only ask that you be kind to him. Do not be impatient. He may be as clever as you, but perhaps not quite, so be brave and kind, and he will always remain devoted to you. But he is just a man, so do not expect too much.”
Elizabeth’s quiet tears spilled down her cheeks, and he gave her his handkerchief.
“You will always be my confident Lizzy, my fearless and inquisitive girl. Mr. Darcy loves you for the same reasons I do. There may have been some reluctance on my part when the two of you came to me, but over the course of your engagement, it must be admitted, Lizzy, I now think that, had I the choice from a menu of attributes from which to select and construct you a husband, I could not have created better.”
Elizabeth sniffed into the handkerchief. “I am keeping this.”
“Yes, I thought you might. Your Aunt Gardiner had it made for me. See? It is the colour of your dress—candlelight. I have learnt something of lace after nearly twenty-four years with your mother. My last demand as your father is that you not tell her.”
There was a tap at the door and Jane spoke from without. “It is I.”
Elizabeth rose to leave but stopped at the door. “Thank you, Father. How could two such men love me so?” She turned to him briefly for a kiss on her cheek and then she was gone.
Jane looked at her quizzically in the hall. “What an adorable person our father is,” was all Elizabeth could say, and Jane slipped into the library. Elizabeth was alone in the hall with her mother, who observed as Elizabeth dabbed her eyes in front of the mirror.
With a sigh, Elizabeth picked up her gloves and the dreaded white lace bonnet from the entry table.
“Oh, Mr. Bennet,” Mrs. Bennet muttered under her breath. “Making your daughters cry on their wedding day… Hill! I have left my gloves upstairs! Hill!”
Elizabeth stepped outside onto the front porch to await her father and sister, and donned her gloves. The late autumn sun brightened the frosty ground with a glaring brilliancy. She did not trust herself to be alone with her mother for even one more moment, and perhaps she would not need to be so again for a very long time. Jane and Elizabeth would ride with their father in the Bingley coach. The rest of the Bennets would ride in their own carriage with the Gardiners.
Mrs. Gardiner joined her. “Lizzy, let me help you with the bonnet.” They eased it into place and Elizabeth felt it crushing the loose curls on the back of her head.
Something in the construction of the bonnet poked her in several places, and she tore it off again. “This is a veritable crown of thorns, Aunt!” Elizabeth looked inside to see several joints in the construction were not properly finished with padding. “No wonder Jane rejected it.”
“Oh, Lizzy,” consoled her aunt, putting an arm around her shoulder. “It is cold. You should put it on.”
“I shall not wear it one moment before I must.”
The Bingley carriage could be heard on the drive. Mr. Bennet and a laughing Jane joined Elizabeth and their aunt. Immediately pulling up behind it was the Gardiner carriage. Elizabeth looked at her aunt in surprise.
“Like you, Lizzy, I am sure I do not want to spend any more time with her than is absolutely necessary. This bonnet dispute has disturbed me, and Edward suggested we leave for London immediately after the wedding breakfast instead of staying another night.” She squeezed Elizabeth’s hand. “Just because she can wail louder than everyone else does not make her right.”
Elizabeth smiled. Her father handed Jane and her into the carriage, and they set off for the church with the Gardiner coach just behind them. They were ahead of schedule.
Chapter 15
The Wedding Breakfast
“We will have rings and things and fine array.”
William Shakespeare
The Taming of the Shrew
The newly married Fitzwilliam Darcy stood just outside the formal dining parlour at Netherfield Park, waiting for Elizabeth to emerge from a small sitting room set aside for the use of the brides. The guests would arrive shortly and enter the dining room by a door near the main hall after greeting their official hostesses, a surprisingly composed—one might almost say catatonic— Caroline Bingley and an ebullient Mrs. Louisa Hurst. The door of the sitting room opened and Jane emerged first.
“Mrs. Bingley!” Darcy bowed. “Your husband awaits you inside.”
“Thank you, Brother.” She smiled and curtsied. Darcy was the first to call her by her new name and she coloured prettily. “Mrs. Darcy will join you directly. She is adjusting her hair.” In an unprecedented action, Jane winked at him, and entered the dining room through the door Darcy had opened for her.
Jane winking! I wonder what causes such a singular action. This has been a day of surprises already— brides arriving early, Elizabeth in tears as she came with her father to stand beside me, now Jane winking at me…
Mr. Bennet had taken Darcy aside in the church before the wedding. “There has been a set-to about Elizabeth’s hair, and I am afraid her mother carried the day. Your bride means your gift no disrespect, but I cannot say the same for Mrs. Bennet.” Darcy rolled his eyes but made no other response. He had been warned that every wedding produced a silly story or two, and he had, at that moment, much more important matters to consider than the folly of Mrs. Bennet. His adored Elizabeth was about to become his wife.
And yet, when the processional finally began, there stood his magnificent bride, his woman and chosen partner, elegant in her charming gown with his pearls in her hair. Mr. Bennet brought Elizabeth alone up the aisle and met no one’s eye except that of his wife. His stern and steely gaze effectively silenced Mrs. Bennet from pitching a fit and falling in it. The proud father deposited his dearest daughter next to her betrothed before turning to nod at the organist. Mr. Bennet then strode briskly back up the aisle and, within a moment’s time, conveyed his eldest daughter to Bingley. It was a conspiracy planned from the start by Mr. Bennet and the Longbourn church musicians, as he was determined each daughter should have her moment to shine.
Even immediately after the fact, Darcy’s memory of his wedding was a hazy muddle. The magnitude of the event seemed to inhibit all real experience of it. The only detail remaining with him was the phrase “happiness in marriage requires diligent practice to become truly proficient,” offered by the vicar during his homily. It was all Darcy could do to suppress his laughter, and he dared not look at Elizabeth. She told him during their brief carriage ride to Netherfield that she felt exactly the same, and was afraid the congregation could see her shoulders shaking with stifled hilarity. Elizabeth rather hoped they thought she was crying.
She also explained why, despite the brides arriving early, the wedding started a few minutes late. Once all the guests had been seated, Elizabeth stood before a mirror in the vestibule and donned the dreaded white-veiled bonnet. She turned to her father with her chin up for courage, but Mr. Bennet could see her expression was fragile.
“Great God, child!” Mr. Bennet was appalled at the hat on Elizabeth’s head. “What a dreadful spectacle. It does not match your gown. Jane, come. Are Mr. Darcy’s pearls here? We cannot have Lizzy enter the church resembling a frigate setting sail at Plymouth.”
And so, as quickly as Mr. Bennet and Jane could manage it, the bonnet was superseded by pearls. Elizabeth’s relief and joy brought forth her tears. Darcy had yet to decide whether he was vexed to have been kept in ignorance of the contest with her mother or he was truly better off having not known.
***
The hall door opened and Elizabeth stood in the doorway looking for him. She was just as lovely as at the church, wreathed in bridal radiance, her hair shining and dotted with pearls. They smiled as their eyes met, and she held out her hand as she approached him. He intended to kiss her rather more thoroughly than he had in the open barouche that carried them from the church to Netherfield, but Mrs. Bennet burst into the hall.
“Mr. Darcy! Oh, Lizzy! Your hair, child!” She drew breath to launch into a proper tirade. Mrs. Bennet was waving the unworn white bonnet through the air.
Darcy would not hear it. “Madam… Mrs. Bennet!” His strong deep voice stopped her mid-inhale. “Mrs. Darcy has dressed her hair exactly as Mr. Darcy wishes. We, none of us, shall hear any more from you on the subject.” He held out his arm, Elizabeth laid her hand upon it, and they entered the dining room affecting a regal hauteur, trying not to laugh. They were by no means successful.
Mr. Bennet smiled from behind his thwarted wife. At last, Lizzy has a champion better than I.
An hour later, Darcy stood by the far window of the dining room. He had taken coffee and noticed Elizabeth still carried a cup of wine punch, but neither had done more than push their food around on their plates during the meal. He watched steadily as Elizabeth circled the room, stopping to visit with friends and neighbours, and graciously accepting the many compliments on how well she looked, what a handsome couple she and her husband made, and how lovely the flowers were that arrived from the glasshouses at Pemberley. She is my enchanting bride.
On a sideboard was a display of fruit, also from Pemberley. Elizabeth stopped to sneak a late season strawberry, and then another. She turned to see if he was watching—Of course he is watching me; he sees every little thing I do!—and sent him a guilty smile. He smiled enough to deepen his dimples and send her pulse racing.
Darcy’s look turned to a smoulder, and across the room, a slightly tipsy Mrs. Phillips nudged the arm of a friend, remarking on his countenance and pitying Elizabeth the trials of the coming evening. She did not remark upon, or even appear to notice, the sly look Elizabeth returned to Darcy.
With the most anticipated event of the day still many hours hence, Elizabeth was able to summon ample confidence to flirt with her bridegroom from across the crowded room. Whether she could maintain such command over herself in six or eight hours was quite another proposition.
How easy she is in company. Everyone seems to love her. As I do. Well, perhaps not quite as I do… Darcy glanced over at Jane, who sat in state in an armchair with Bingley standing at her side. They looked golden together with their honey-coloured hair. Jane’s serenity greeted everyone who approached with the same smile and blush, and one might surmise Jane could still not believe such happiness was to be hers. However, she seemed a little nervous, and Darcy could guess why. Bingley fussed over her, touching her shoulder to draw her attention to someone or something, refilling her cup, taking her hand and releasing it again. Poor Charles…he thinks he is steadying her, but I fancy she would like nothing more than to step outside and take a deep breath. Somehow, his Elizabeth met the gathering with assurance, and any nerves she might feel about him or the coming night were well hidden.
As he returned his gaze to his bride, he felt someone take his arm. It was Georgiana.
“You have captured the prettiest and most charming Bennet sister, Brother! Look how lovely her hair is. How I envy her confidence. She has such gracious manners.” Georgiana smiled mischievously and leaned in to nudge her brother’s guarded composure with her shoulder. “The pearls are from you?”
Darcy did not take his eyes from Elizabeth as he smiled and nodded. “She will do us proud, Georgie.”
The two siblings stood in admiration of the new addition to their small family. “How interesting it is, Fitzwilliam, that the two eldest Bennets have chosen men with the same colouring as themselves, or did you two men concoct the scheme between you? Jane and Charles so fair, you and Elizabeth so dark; you could be bookends. What lovely nieces and nephews I shall have.”
Darcy was surprised he had never made such an observation himself. With a self-satisfied half smile, he whispered to Georgiana, “Indeed you will.”
“How shall we manage the giving of my gifts for Jane and Elizabeth?”
“There is a small sitting room down the hall from the rear door of the dining room. I shall bring the brides there in five minutes.”
Georgiana had ordered special presents for Elizabeth and Jane, but she could not abide the idea of making a show of presenting them. Darcy caught Elizabeth’s eyes and silently beckoned her towards her sister. They met near Jane and Bingley, and he murmured, “Georgiana has gifts for you and Jane. If we can ease ourselves into the small parlour, she will meet us.”
Elizabeth leaned to whisper in Jane’s ear, and she immediately stood. Sensing a conspiracy, Mrs. Bennet approached. “Mr. Darcy? Lizzy? Are you leaving so soon?”
“Indeed no, Mama,” responded Elizabeth. “Mr. Darcy’s sister has gifts that she wishes us to open in the sitting room.”
“What nonsense! Have her bring them here so everyone can see.”
Mr. Darcy stepped forward and fixed his new motherin-law with an unyielding gaze. “Indeed she will not. But you may join us, Mrs. Bennet.”
“It is quite rude to leave one’s guests so, Mr. Darcy.”
“It is equally rude to make a shy guest more uncomfortable by making a spectacle of the simple giving of gifts,” Darcy responded and caught Bingley’s eye. Each man took his new wife’s arm and exited the dining room, with a clucking Mrs. Bennet following. No one noticed Mr. Bennet steal away in the curricle waiting for him.
When the couples entered the sitting room, they found Mrs. Gardiner already at hand. Georgiana handed a large box to Elizabeth, and another to Jane. “Mrs. Gardiner—whom I may now call Aunt?” Georgiana asked and Mrs. Gardiner nodded. “Aunt Gardiner helped me select and order these. We used her modiste since that lady has made gowns for Elizabeth and Jane before.”
Elizabeth opened her box and lifted from its depths the most luxurious pelisse she had ever seen. It was a heavy matte satin in deep royal blue, padded with several layers of wool for warmth, and lined in a lighter-weight white satin. However, the spectacular feature of the garment was the high collar and front placket trimmed in ermine, as were the cuffs of the long sleeves.
Elizabeth was on the point of saying it was too grand to accept when, taking it from her, Darcy whispered in her ear, “For my Queen Elizabeth.”
She turned her head sharply and met his shining eyes as he eased the garment onto her shoulders. “My father has been telling tales again.” She smiled up at him. “Which of her many admiring courtiers would you have been?”
“Courtier? Ha! No, madam, I would have been her consort had I lived in her time.”
“So she would not have been a virgin queen?” Elizabeth whispered.
“I should say not. Decidedly not…” Darcy breathed into her ear. He longed to molest the three curls reposing where he had flipped them free of the pelisse’s collar, but stopped himself. My self-control is ebbing. We should make our escape as soon as may be.
“Georgiana, thank you,” Elizabeth said in a louder voice, blushing. “It is beautiful. You are too kind.”
Elizabeth’s newest sister came forward and took her hand earnestly. “Oh, Lizzy,” she began, using the family epithet impulsively, “do you really like it? I could not imagine your riding to London in your wedding costume during such cold weather. And you can wear this to the opera during your honeymoon.”
Darcy hid a smirk. He had no intention of stepping outside Darcy House for the next week, and perhaps not even straying more than three steps from their suite of rooms. He would proudly escort his new wife to the opera when next they went to London.
Jane’s gasp turned everyone’s attention to her and the lifting of her gift from its box. Jane preferred a cape to a pelisse for outerwear, and her gift was a pale, d
ove grey taffeta cloak with a pink watermark sheen, its hood lined with misty grey mink. It was clearly the equal of Lizzy’s in price, and complimented Jane’s complexion. “Oh, Georgiana! I have never beheld anything so fine! How can I thank you?”
With uncharacteristic silence, Mrs. Bennet turned and left the room. No one noticed. She did not know what annoyed her more, that all the people she wanted most to impress had not seen the unveiling of such magnificent gifts, or that it was all arranged without her knowledge. To her credit, she did appreciate that Georgiana had not presented Elizabeth with a gift grander than Jane’s. Mrs. Bennet entered the dining room in high dudgeon nevertheless, and hissed her disapprobation in Mrs. Phillips’s ear. By all of those present who were close enough to overhear, she was roundly, if silently, censured as crass and ungrateful to the last.
***
“Elizabeth, perhaps we should take this opportunity to make our escape. We shall make a brief pause at Longbourn first, as your father has a parting gift for us. I promised we would stop.”
Before he could be harnessed, Bingley stepped into the hall and announced Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were leaving, unleashing a tumult of scraping chairs and the calling for this or that person to look sharp or they would miss the departure.
Just as Elizabeth and Darcy reached their carriage, the shrill voice of Mrs. Bennet could be heard. “Lizzy! Your bonnet! Here! She must have her bonnet.” Elizabeth’s heart sank as the crowd parted to allow the advance of her mother, waving the bonnet over her head.
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