Chapter 30 Five Ladies Engaged
CHAPTER THIRTY
FIVE LADIES ENGAGED
Elizabeth had discharged her duty to Anne and Lady Catherine, but she remained at Rosings House to be of assistance to Anne and Lady Matlock as they prepared for Anne’s marriage.
Her greatest value, it seemed, was in having a similar enough figure to be able to stand in for Anne for the vast quantity of gown fittings required.
Anne proclaimed often that her health was far too indifferent to withstand them, but Elizabeth had long since come to understand that Anne used weakness and frailty to avoid that which she did not like to do.
And so was Elizabeth poked and prodded and draped in precious silks and fine-spun muslins.
But Anne was grateful, as were the rest of the family.
Lady Catherine’s health was failing, rapidly.
Anne knew it and so did the family, but it was ignored in favour of determinedly cheerful speeches about the rapidly coming wedding day.
Anne would marry in the parlour, with a small group of family only; Lady Catherine repeatedly expressed her wish for St George’s, but the rest of the family thought it would be too taxing for her.
Afterwards, Lady Matlock was to be hostess for a larger gathering of friends and relations.
Although Anne had few friends among society, Jolly had a wide circle, and it seemed he meant for all of them to come celebrate his bride.
“I am sure they all want to get a good look at her,” he informed them all cheerfully one morning. “This strange creature who wishes to be married to me!”
It was somewhat difficult to grow accustomed to openly receiving the attentions of Mr Darcy. They were together often, sometimes along with Jane and Mr Bingley, whom Elizabeth liked exceedingly well. Other times, they were in company with Lord Saye and his heart’s desire, Miss Goddard.
Miss Goddard seemed less enthusiastic about Lord Saye than Lord Saye did for her.
His reputation as a wild, partying sort of man had preceded him, and she had no wish to have a drunk for a husband.
After that, Lord Saye swore off all drinking of any sort, resulting in a se’nnight complete of a black humour no one could endure.
“Perhaps,” said Miss Goddard, “you might merely wish to moderate yourself.”
“Too tedious by half,” he told her, but then did just that. “When the woman you love tells you how to be, you be it,” he informed Mr Darcy.
“I could not agree more,” Mr Darcy replied.
Several days before Anne’s wedding, Mr Darcy proposed an evening at the theatre for eight of them: Jane and Mr Bingley, Lord Saye and Miss Goddard, Elizabeth and himself, and Anne and Jolly.
Elizabeth made a particular supplication for Miss Darcy to be permitted to attend with them as well, and her brother thought it a fine idea.
She delivered the news to her in her bedchamber at Matlock House and then remained to help the girl choose which gown she wanted to wear. “I wonder that you have not returned yet to Darcy House,” she remarked idly.
The girl smiled hopefully at her. “I have grown too accustomed to living among other young ladies, I think. Much as I love my brother, I have always longed to have sisters, and the two houses in St James’s Square have been so very lively all spring.
Brother understands perfectly well, for he has every wish that the situation will change very soon. What do you think?”
To this Elizabeth could only blush. “I think,” she said, “the Pomona green silk will set your eyes off wonderfully.”
The nine of them made a merry party, even if the play itself was somewhat tedious, and convened at Mr Darcy’s house afterwards for supper.
It was Elizabeth’s first time there, and she looked round with wide eyes as a Mrs Hobbs took their wraps.
The outside of the home was handsome and elegant and the inside no less so.
Perhaps a bit austere in décor, but that was not surprising in a bachelor’s residence.
The others went ahead into the dining room, but Mr Darcy held her back.
“I wonder if you might like to see the rest of the house?”
“I would indeed.” They moved down the hall towards rooms unknown to her. “This feels much more natural to me anyhow,” she teased him. “Hying off down the hall to an undoubtedly dark room somewhere. Only I pray you would not require me to leap from a window.”
“But you did it with such aplomb before!”
She laughed. “Did it seem I had aplomb? I assure you I did not. I was quite terrified, even if I tried to persuade myself it was not different than climbing down out of a tree. Then again, I had mostly given up trees for some years before.”
He smiled at her but did not reply more than that. They strolled along, seeing what was proper to be seen by her, and throughout he was amiable if a little quiet. At length, they arrived in his study, and she thought there she should ask him what occupied his thoughts.
“I am trying to decide if I ought to ask you to marry me tonight,” he said frankly. “Were I not unsure of your answer, I believe I would immediately.”
She turned to face him. “Even if you are unsure of my answer, I hope you are not unsure of me.”
“Then why not accept me? Engaged tonight and married, I hope, before August.”
“You have it all settled!” She laughed again. “I only thought it sound that we should come to know one another a little more before we made things…”
“Inescapable?”
“I do not wish to escape you,” she said softly. “Only to…to know the ground before we made the jump.”
“And do you?”
She took a deep breath in and looked round her. His study was unmistakably his, with its large mahogany desk, handsome yet well-worn leather chairs, and plenitude of books scattered round. One drew her attention. An Account of the Rotula Arithmetica.
She exclaimed when she saw it and moved towards it, taking it up in her hands.
“Do you like that book?” He had moved to stand behind her, looking over her shoulder.
“My father had it,” she said, opening to a random page. “He used it to teach arithmetic to any of us who wished to learn, which was mostly just me. He—” She broke off as the scent of the book rose up to fill her nostrils. Unthinking, she raised it, closing her eyes and taking a deep inhale.
“This cannot be…” Quickly she opened the front cover and saw the bookplate, nearly worn away from the time she had left the book outside and it had become damp with the morning dew before it was discovered.
She gasped seeing the tea and wine stains, and tears came to her eyes as her father’s pipe tobacco wrapped round her.
“How did you come by this? This must have been the most pathetic-looking tome in the shop.”
“Yes, it was.” He turned her to face him. “You were looking at it the day I came upon you in Chegg’s shop.”
“Chegg’s shop,” she repeated, searching for the memory. “In February? And you purchased it?”
“It seemed to be important to you,” he explained. “And though I did not truly know it back then, I understood that you would be important to me. Thus…I bought it. And refused Chegg’s offer to rebind it. He thought I was mad, I dare—”
His words were cut off by the press of her lips against his.
She had never kissed a man before and felt her shoe crunch down a bit mercilessly on his foot as she did it, but she did it anyhow.
He did not disagree with her, pulling her tight against him and kissing her with a passionate ardency that thrilled her very soul.
He loves me.
He truly did love her, and though she did not understand how their odd, secretive, haphazard acquaintance had led to this, nevertheless it had. Seeing her father’s book there felt like Mr Bennet’s blessing upon them.
When at last they pulled apart, his breathlessness seemed to mirror her own, and she wondered if the thundering of her heart was audible. They only looked at each other for several long moments.
“Let us get married,” she said and witnessed an expression of heartfelt delight come across his face before once again he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.
This time it was the sound of boots, irate-sounding boots, that pulled them apart. Moments later the door opened; Elizabeth reached up a hand to smooth her hair as Lord Saye gave them both a gimlet stare.
“Not to be a demanding guest or anything of that sort,” he announced. “But we are all dying of starvation in there, and Anne says she might faint. Perhaps your lovemaking might be put aside for half an hour or so that we might eat?”
“Congratulate us, Saye,” said Darcy. “We just got engaged.”
Hearing it said made Elizabeth break out into an enormous smile. A glance at her betrothed showed her that his face was likewise afflicted.
“Elizabeth, welcome to the family,” said Saye, still sounding very grumpy. “However, might I observe that it was a trifle selfish of you to do this tonight? I am now the only unengaged fellow here! You have made dear Lilly and me the unwanted gooseberries.”
“What about Georgiana?” Darcy enquired with a chuckle. “In any case, if you do not wish to be the only man who is not engaged, propose to her and then we can sit, all of us, in the drawing room, delighted with our own felicity and ignoring all the others.”
Jane and Bingley had decided they would marry in London. Darcy and Elizabeth thought it a fine idea to join them in a double ceremony, with Darcy offering to give a wedding breakfast at Darcy House.
“After which I insist on taking you off to Pemberley,” he said as they sat in the little outdoor courtyard.
“We will have some weeks there before your aunt and uncle arrive, and perhaps your mother and sisters would come after that? The city can be a trifle unpleasant in the heat of summer, no matter what part of it you live in.”
“Jane and Bingley mean to go to Netherfield,” Elizabeth mused. “I know they too have invited Mama and the girls to come, but we would be doing them a great service if we could put an end to the visit. Otherwise I fear they might settle in.”
“They will come to Pemberley,” said Darcy decisively. “And then we can discuss what might be best for them after that.”
“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked.
He frowned. “I do not mean to say that their lodgings are in any way… That is to say, I esteem… Your uncle has…” He took a deep breath in and exhaled gustily.
“I daresay your mother would like a space where she could entertain her friends, perhaps a cook and another maid or so. A lady’s maid. That sort of thing.”
Elizabeth reached out and laid her hand on his. “You are wonderful,” she said. Pausing briefly, she added, “I do have the five thousand from your aunt…which I have supposed might be your five thousand anyhow. In which case, it will become your five thousand again when we marry.”
“Lady Catherine did not in fact demand compensation from me,” Darcy told her. “What she did want was a solemn pledge that our firstborn son be promised from his cradle to Anne’s daughter.”
“You did not—”
“Agree to it? Of course not. I said merely that if it so happened that any daughter or son of Pemberley fell in love with any of Anne’s children, then I would be an enthusiastic supporter of the union. Surprisingly, she was satisfied with that.”
In the days prior to Anne’s wedding to Jolly, Elizabeth returned to the house on Clements Street.
Needless to say, Mrs Bennet was overcome with the joy of both of her daughters’ matches, and vague references to being left alone on Clements Street and to the unsuitability of her circumstances convinced Elizabeth and Jane that they were right in the plans they had made for her to visit their respective new homes.
As soon as Elizabeth had settled herself back into the small bedchamber that neither sister would occupy for long, the three ladies met in the drawing room.
They acquainted Mrs Bennet with their plans for the double ceremony, which met with Mrs Bennet’s approval, and informed her that Darcy’s household was at her disposal in the planning of the breakfast to be held afterwards.
“And after we are married, Lizzy and I both thought it would be nice if you wished to join Bingley and me at Netherfield for a time,” said Jane.
“And Pemberley after that,” Elizabeth said. “For a time.”
Kitty and Lydia both entered the room then, having been out at the shops to avoid any possibility of being helpful to Elizabeth. “Are we to eat anything?” Lydia demanded. “I am hungry enough to eat my own hand!”
“Soon enough,” Mrs Bennet scolded. “Lizzy and Jane were just telling me about all the lovely choices we have for the rest of summer! Are they not good big sisters?”
Several looks went around the room, looks that Jane and Elizabeth were not privy to the meaning of.
“Alas, girls, I am afraid I cannot be rushing all over England just now,” said Mrs Bennet. “You will have to set up your houses without me.”
Nonplussed, Jane asked, “Why not?”
“I have a few schemes of my own.”
“What are those?” Elizabeth enquired.
“Let me tell it!” Lydia said eagerly. “You remember Mr Patterson?”
Elizabeth considered it a moment. “The bespectacled banker?”
Mrs Bennet chuckled. “Horace only needs his spectacles when he is looking at the endless lines of numbers he must study. How tedious it must be to be a banker!”
“Horace?” Elizabeth echoed her faintly.
“The gentleman is two-and-forty. He was married once before, and his wife died in the childbed, but he does have two sons. They are both at university.”
Elizabeth was already anticipating some scheme whereby the sons married Kitty and Lydia, but her mother was due to shock her severely.
“He has proposed to me, and I have accepted,” Mrs Bennet announced triumphantly, her cheeks as pink as a schoolgirl’s.
“P-proposed!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “Proposed…marriage?”
“Yes, of course he proposed marriage! What other sort of proposing might a man do?”
“But…but you—”
“Do not dare say she is too old, Lizzy,” said Lydia with a laugh. “For she will box your ears and put salt on your tongue.”
“I am but one-and-forty myself,” said Mrs Bennet sternly. “Plenty of widows get married at my age.”
Elizabeth rubbed the small area between her eyebrows. Her mother, to become a Mrs Patterson. It beggared belief.
Then again, neither she nor Jane would be here for her. Not so long from now, Kitty and Lydia would find husbands and then her poor mother would be left alone. What sort of daughter would wish her mother such a fate?
She rose from the chair and went to where her mother sat, bending to offer a hug. “I am happy for you, Mama. You deserve every earthly happiness.”
Jane too rose and came to kiss her mother’s cheek. “You will be a lovely bride, Mama.”