Chapter 42
Drawing Room
Darcy House
An Hour After the Wedding
Serena glanced about herself with satisfaction, relieved to observe that the wedding breakfast was going off well.
The drawing rooms and sitting rooms had all been opened for the convenience of the guests.
Everyone who had attended the ceremony had come to the breakfast, as expected, and they welcomed further guests; the Bennets and Rutherfords, Fitzwilliams and Bingleys and Hursts, had been joined by such particular friends as the Overstons and Wellbridges, and assorted other friends of the families.
Only the nearest and dearest had been bidden to come witness the joining of Elizabeth Bennet to Fitzwilliam Darcy, but their joy was so overflowing as to necessitate the sharing of it with more of their friends.
Serena had, naturally, harbored some anxieties when it came to entertaining so many guests, but now it was apparent that all her concerns had been for naught.
Her primary duty was to ensure that the food was plentiful and well-cooked and that her guests' cups were not allowed to remain empty.
This proved to be simple enough; the Darcy servants knew their jobs very well, and no sooner was a platter of the buffet spread across the massive dining room table emptied than it was whisked away by a maid and swiftly replaced by a footman bearing fresh bounty.
No lesser personage than the housekeeper presided over the sideboard, with its array of teapots and coffeepots and chocolate pots, its pitchers of lemonade and ratafia.
Georgiana anxiously flitted from room to room, alone among the gathering wearing an expression of solemnity, almost obsessively checking over and over that all was in order.
The arrangement of the rooms, the rental of several additional small tables and chairs, and the way they had been induced to fit within the smaller sitting rooms had been her purview.
The final result, Serena thought, did her younger sister credit.
It had been Georgiana's genius that allowed for the smooth flow of foot traffic through the rooms. Moreover, Georgiana had ordered multiple bouquets of flowers, which perfumed the air and brightened the room.
The bride and groom were the true attraction of the morning, and the happy couple was seated at a small table in the drawing room, receiving an apparently endless stream of well-wishes and congratulations.
Serena smiled over at them fondly, her heart filled with happiness.
Both were radiant with joy, their eyes brimming with love.
Serena privately thought that they could not possibly be much happier than she was herself.
It was a wonderful thing to have Elizabeth for a sister, and already the rest of the Season looked less intimidating.
From this day forward, it would be Elizabeth, not Serena, who was mistress and hostess at Darcy House.
Serena was enormously grateful for Darcy's presence and support thus far, naturally enough, but being a gentleman, her brother could not fully enter into the vagaries and trials of being a woman.
He would never have to bear the weight of being thought out of mode for wearing the same slip and overdress together too many times, or of having multiple suitors asking for the supper set and making a mistake in accepting the wrong one.
It would be such a comfort to have Elizabeth to consult with on any and all such weighty decisions!
The match, Serena thought, must have been made by the hand of Providence.
It had assured the bliss of her beloved brother, the overflowing joy of Elizabeth, and a boon to herself and Georgiana as well as the Bennets.
The events of the Season were inevitable, but Elizabeth had already promised Serena that she and Fitzwilliam would attend every ball she attended.
Serena need no longer fear overwhelming crowds, with the more social, charming Elizabeth there to run interference or otherwise assist her.
God had definitely blessed the Darcy family through the person of Elizabeth Darcy.
***
Upstairs
Darcy House
“Thank you very much,” Jane said to the maid who had been assigned to her. “I appreciate your help.”
“T’was my pleasure, Miss,” the girl replied with a bob of her head. “Such a beautiful dress, and it is a great pity it was torn. I do not think anyone will notice.”
Jane lifted her skirt and considered the hem with care.
On departing from St. George’s Church less than an hour earlier, she had caught the hem on the step when climbing into the carriage, resulting in a dreadful rip.
But now, thanks to the maid’s clever fingers, her dress looked almost perfect.
Not that it mattered a great deal, as Elizabeth and her new husband were the primary focus today.
But Jane, unlike Elizabeth and Lydia, had always despised dirty or damaged gowns.
She made her way out of the small sitting room, then walked down the corridor to the main stairs, which led to the vestibule below.
Below her, she could hear the great hum of cheerful conversation with a sprinkling of laughter.
By now, she thought, everyone who wished to attend the wedding breakfast should be present.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she was surprised to observe Colonel Fitzwilliam positioned a few feet from the front door, with two burly footmen standing nearby.
The earl’s son turned a smiling face on her, bowed, and said, “Good morning, Miss Bennet. Congratulations on your sister’s marriage to my cousin. I am confident that they are very well suited.”
“Thank you,” Jane said, returning the smile, “and I entirely agree. Their characters, while not particularly similar, are very well matched.”
Darcy’s butler appeared from the east end of the house with a goblet of red liquid, and the man said, “Your wine, sir.”
“Thank you,” the colonel said with a nod.
Jane tilted her head. “Surely there is room for you in one of the rooms? Serena told me that they intended to have tables and chairs throughout the main floor.”
“Oh, there are plenty of tables and seats,” the colonel said cheerfully. “However, I am expecting my elderly and annoying aunt to arrive soon, and these two fine footmen and I are standing guard to keep her from causing trouble.”
Jane blinked. “Your aunt?”
“Yes, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, of whom I know you have heard. Darcy tells me that the heir to your father’s estate serves as rector of the Hunsford parsonage, which is attached to Lady Catherine’s estate of Rosings.”
Jane frowned. “I have heard of her, certainly, but why is she liable to come here in an unhappy state?”
“My aunt has long held that Darcy was promised to her only child, my cousin Anne. It is completely fictitious, but such is her confidence in her own desires. She arrived last night from Kent, and my parents and I made rather a point of not telling her that the wedding was this morning. She said that she would come to pressure Darcy into giving up his engagement to Elizabeth, but clearly it is far too late for that. But I see no reason for the newlyweds to have to…”
At this moment, there was a firm rap on the front door.
Richard handed his glass to the butler, who took it and retreated out of sight, and then he turned and opened the door.
A tall woman stood outside, dressed elaborately in green silk and sables, with a tan turban on her head decorated with one small peacock feather.
“Good morning, Lady Catherine,” the colonel said, inclining his head respectfully.
“Whatever are you doing here, Colonel?” Lady Catherine demanded, sweeping into the vestibule with narrowed eyes and a disgusted expression. “Has Darcy so lost his mind that he does not even keep his butler in order?”
“Not at all, Aunt,” Richard replied genially. “However, the butler cannot throw you out, but I can, so I graciously offered to take his place.”
Lady Catherine turned a genuinely bewildered look on her nephew. “Throw me out? Whatever are you talking about? I must speak to Darcy about this absurd engagement, and…”
“They are no longer engaged … as they are now married,” the colonel interrupted smoothly. “Darcy and my new cousin, Elizabeth, were wed a little more than an hour ago, at St. George’s in Hanover Square, and since you are not invited to the wedding breakfast, you need to leave. Now.”
Lady Catherine goggled at her nephew, and Jane looked on with interest as the older woman’s skin turned an unattractive shade of very light puce.
“Married!” the mistress of Rosings finally shrieked. “Impossible! Impossible! I will have it annulled! Darcy is engaged to … what are you doing? Unhand me now!”
Jane watched with wide-eyed surprise as the colonel seized his aunt’s left arm, while one of the tall footmen took her right arm, and they lifted her bodily into the air and carried her out of the door.
The other footman followed them out and pulled the door shut, cutting off the enraged squawking of Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
Jane regarded the closed door thoughtfully.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was one of her favorite acquaintances, as he was intelligent and friendly.
This display of authority provided a very different view of his character, and she could not help but be impressed …
and amused by the ridiculousness of it. It took a good deal of determination and courage to literally remove an annoying relative from a cousin’s wedding party.
The colonel was a more interesting man than she had thought.
***
The Darcys’ Joint Sitting Room
Darcy House
That Evening
The newly married Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy were seated on a couch next to a small fire.
“And then,” Darcy said with a dramatic sigh, “Lady Catherine began screaming at the top of her lungs. Richard was forced to bodily lift her into the carriage, and he climbed in after her and pulled the door shut, and he ordered the driver to return to Matlock House.”
“Poor Richard!” Elizabeth returned with a chuckle, leaning further against her husband’s comfortable bulk.
“It is fortunate that my cousin has taken part in charges across muddied fields in the teeth of French musket fire. Compared to such an experience, even an irate Lady Catherine is of no particular concern.”
She chuckled again, and her eyes closed. It had been a glorious, fantastic, wonderful day, but also an extremely busy and exhausting one. Even the wonder of being married to the best man in the world in all of England was not enough to keep her awake.
Her eyes fluttered open for a moment, but the comfort of her husband’s embrace, and the heat of the fire, caused her eyes to drift closed again, and now she was asleep entirely.
Fitzwilliam Darcy looked down on his new, beloved wife and leaned back a little against the couch, being careful not to jostle her. He and Elizabeth were married. He had never been so happy.