Chapter Eighty
O n the twenty-fifth of January, eight months after Elizabeth’s wedding, the Bennet family gathered again in Meryton’s chapel.
The Colonel was introduced to everyone in Meryton, and not a single soul had a word to say against him. He was approved of by everyone he met, and his willingness to stand drinks to anyone and everyone at the Red Lion had almost nothing to do with it.
Jane Bingley was now visibly with child, and her husband was absurdly solicitous of her health. “He would carry her about, if he could manage it!” Lydia had been heard to giggle, and though her mother scolded her, it was the simple truth.
The Earl and Countess were present, as they had been eight months before, and their faces were wreathed in smiles. Their second son had given up the army and was about to marry a young lady who was perfect for him in every way! Their eldest son, the Viscount Darwood, was also in attendance; he delighted both Kitty and Lydia by praising their gowns, saying that his wife, the Viscountess Darwood, had nothing so fine.
Charlotte had refused to give in to pressure from her husband and their patroness, and had journeyed alone from Kent to see Mary’s wedding. Like Jane, she was with child; unlike Jane, she had always enjoyed ruddy health and did not fear travel while enceinte . She spent a good deal of time making up to Mrs. Bennet, who was now almost – almost ! – resigned to leaving Longbourn to those Collins should Mr. Bennet predecease her.
As a beaming Kitty walked up the aisle (she had been warned not to stick out her tongue at Lydia), Mr. Darcy whispered to Elizabeth, “Marrying you was the very best thing that ever happened to me; I am truly grateful to Caroline Bingley.”
And as Mary followed Kitty up the aisle to her groom, Elizabeth whispered to Mr. Darcy, “I am delighted to hear you say that, William, as I believe I may be with child.”
Mary and Richard spoke their vows in clear and ringing tones, but neither Elizabeth nor Mr. Darcy heard a word of it.
***
When the guests returned to Longbourn for the wedding breakfast, Mary was praised by her mother. Mrs. Bennet now called Mary a darling child, a clever girl, and so on. Mr. Bennet patted her on the back, rather absent-mindedly, and said, “Well done, Mary.”
What a difference a marriage could make!