Chapter Thirty-Four #2
Mrs Bingley would not have it said that the family of Mr Darcy’s bride was poor or unsophisticated, and so the event was opulent, and organised in the manner of a London ball.
After a dinner that lasted two hours, there would be another four hours of dancing, and at six o’clock in the morning, breakfast would be served before the guests’ carriages would be called for.
An event such as this was rare indeed in Hertfordshire, and the locals were proud of Mrs Bingley for distinguishing their neighbourhood in such a manner before the nobility.
Jane and the others appreciatively enjoyed the roasted boar’s head, bustard, which was a rarity indeed, rich ragouts, artichoke soup, mackerel with fennel and mint, and a plethora of vegetable dishes, jellies, and turbot with lobster sauce.
As the night progressed, a number of toasts were made, soon becoming more and more ridiculous the more wine that was consumed, but all of the guests meant well, and Elizabeth and Darcy were obviously enjoying themselves immensely, and had noticed no one but each other since the evening began.
Eventually Jane and Sir Alastair could not help but be consumed with hilarity every time another guest stood to toast the happy couple.
Perhaps halfway through the meal, Mr Bingley stood and made an announcement. “My sister, Miss Bennet, and my dearest friend Darcy have given their permission for another announcement to be made tonight that can only add to our joy. Mr King, I give you the floor.”
Mr King stood and announced, “I am very happy to inform you all that my niece Miss King will be married in three months time, to Mr Rupert Hurst!”
There was polite clapping as everyone murmured their congratulations.
The matrons had attempted to warn Mr King of Mr Rupert’s insult of Miss Mary, but the man had been disinterested.
Having only returned to Meryton a day or two after Mrs Bennet’s dinner, the Kings had not been present to witness Mr Rupert’s previous behaviour, and the grudges of country matrons did not concern Mr King in the slightest. The two had been introduced in the market street by the mayor’s wife after Miss King dropped her fan and Mr Rupert returned it to her.
Mr Rupert was suitably genteel, from a good family with some property in the north, and had a comfortable living, with the possibility of acquiring another.
Miss King’s ten thousand pound dowry would be placed in trust for her widowhood.
Her suitor had courted her quickly, but the romance of the festive season had encouraged the couple.
Mr Rupert had asked for Miss King’s hand properly, and with respect, and that was enough for Mr King, who was completely indifferent to Mr Rupert’s public opinion of Miss Mary Bennet.
This new announcement brought forth another dozen toasts. As Jane eyed the glass of syllabub and jelly in front of her, Sir Alastair lifted his glass of wine and said, “To enduring affection.”
Jane raised her glass in return and said, “To flirtation without consequence.”
Sir Alastair clinked his glass to hers and replied, “And to women who misplace their memories–but never their wit.”
The rest of the night passed like a fairy tale, just as Jane had hoped that it would for Elizabeth and Darcy, and also for Mr and Mrs Bingley, who had worked so hard to make it perfect.
Jane had noticed that Mary had been seated between Colonel Fitzwilliam and Viscount Heatherden.
The Viscount’s attention to Mary had raised her in the esteem of the locals, and the other bachelors who were attending.
Mary spent the majority of the night on the dance floor, being admired as she ought.
“I noticed that you and Lord Heatherden conversed extensively at supper,” Jane mentioned to Mary between sets as they waited for gentlemen to bring them punch.
“Did you know that he wished to go into the church, but his father would not allow it?” Mary asked in reply.
“I should think not.” Jane was not at all surprised. “There cannot be many viscounts studying for ordination. Lord Heatherden has far too many responsibilities learning to fill his father’s shoes. But there is no reason he cannot do so with the heart of a Godly man with true Christian spirit.”
“That is just what I said!” Mary gushed. Then she sobered. “He is not interested in me. He is only charmed by the novelty of a young gentlewoman with such interest in theology.”
“Perhaps,” Jane agreed. Mary wilted at her consensus.
“But perhaps not. Of course you must not be carried away, but there are many pious gentlewomen, Miss Mary. You cannot be the first he has met. But do not allow me to encourage any expectations in you. I made that mistake once already, and I shall not again. You must of course, above all, be sensible. Lord Heatherden is to be your cousin-by-marriage. He seems like a friendly and honourable man. You will be connected by family for life, so a comfortable friendship must be your ultimate motivation. The gentleman will make you aware of any other interest, if he has any. As he is fond of saying, he knows his duty. He will not trifle with you as the other did.”
“Thank you, Miss Jane.” Mary hugged her lightly, then turned to the bachelor who had just brought her a cup of punch.
When the last carriage left Netherfield, after eight in the morning, it was quite obvious to all that if her London staff was as capable as that of her country house, Mrs Bingley would be a remarkably successful hostess in town this season.