Another Ceremony
Elizabeth was the first to embrace and kiss Mrs Fitzwilliam, and the first to offer fulsome congratulations, but only by a few seconds as the rest of the sisters (with one notable exception) crowded around to do the same.
She turned her gaze toward her youngest sister, trying to discern how she bore Mary’s revenge.
She observed that Mr Wickham appeared willing to wait all day (or until the end of time) to marry Lydia, while that worthy appeared confused, angry, and if Elizabeth’s experience was any guide, about to erupt in a tantrum.
Not particularly enamoured with the idea of enduring one, she fixed Lydia with a gaze severe enough to blister paint, then glanced pointedly at Mary.
As oblivious as ever, Lydia continued pouting until her intended took her arm and manhandled her across the dozen yards that separated the groups.
Mr Wickham gave his congratulations in the most fulsome language, and Elizabeth wondered at his ability to charm.
He still had all the appearance of a gentleman, and could say what he wished to say well, but with experience, she had learnt to detect, in the very gentleness which had first delighted her, an affectation and a sameness to disgust and weary.
She was not the least bit enamoured with the idea of being related to him, but needs must.
Lydia gave Mary the closest approximation of congratulations she could muster, and then waited as patiently as she possibly could, for as long as she possibly could, before saying, “I am truly happy for you Mary, and offer my fullest congratulations.”
Mary gave her the benefit of the doubt, though nowhere near as politely as Jane might have. “Thank you, Lydia.”
Lydia finally said, “May we now proceed with my nuptials?” in a voice she thought was sweet and polite but was mostly grating to everyone else.
Elizabeth said, “In a moment, Lydia. There is other business to be done,” then without another word, she turned toward the altar, and took the arm of Mr Darcy, who had been waiting patiently by her side.
Lydia belatedly noticed that he had been waiting closely by her side and was astonished when the two of them approached the parson, with Mary and the colonel behind them.
She gaped in astonishment when she saw the same four, though in opposite positions, as the familiar words, “Dearly beloved—” began yet again.
She looked back and forth between all the sisters and noticed that she and Wickham were the only ones surprised.
The rest all had happy, contented smiles on their faces, as if marrying Mr Darcy was a good thing!
She heard her beau mutter, “How in the devil—” followed by a string of curse words so foul she only knew three-quarters of them, and they both sat with mouths agape as the ceremony proceeded through yet another endlessly droning bit of tedium and mortification, wincing with every word, and even harder at every glance between the couple that had them appearing truly besotted.
Both were astonished, neither having believed Elizabeth could play a part so effortlessly just to be rich.
When it was done, they stood aside in wonder and watched yet another of her sisters surrender her surname, then nearly choked on their bile as the reverend beamed and introduced Mr and Mrs Darcy to the small company.
The congratulations flowed with abundance, and it was all they could do to offer their own.
Even though Lydia was not aware of the importance of the event, Wickham knew all too well that Darcy’s honour was the only thing standing between him and his creditors, and thought civility to his now future brother-in-law was the best part of valour.
He could hardly stand the insouciant grin on Fitzwilliam’s face.
He had always hated the colonel, and he had been ever so glad the previous summer that the man was crawling through the mud on the continent when he tried to elope with Georgiana Darcy.
Darcy greeted him with a strongly worded letter, while the colonel would have greeted him with a strongly worded sword.
He was gratified to now comprehend the full import of why Darcy agreed to finance his marriage and began to devise how he might take advantage of the connexion—while, of course, avoiding the more violent tendencies of his other new relation.
Unable to keep a civil tongue in her head, Lydia said, “La, Lizzie, I would never have imagined you marrying a man who so slighted you for money.”
She ended the question with a squeak when her groom pinched her hard enough to raise a bruise.
Elizabeth replied calmly, “That is where you are wrong, Lydia. I married him because I love him with all my heart. He did wrong, but he corrected his errors, and he is the best man I have ever known,” she said with a steely look at Wickham that could not be mistaken.
“I applaud you on your nuptials, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy,” Wickham said with an attempt at a let bygones be bygones tone that made Elizabeth want to borrow her new cousin’s sword, but her new husband placed his hand on the small of her back and stroked it gently, which so thoroughly distracted her she forgot her pique before it truly began.
Lydia started to speak, but then the back door opened, and everyone turned.
A man of medium height hastened through the shadows near the door with a paper in hand and came to an abrupt halt in front of the assemblage, bowing and grinning.
“Just in time. I assume you have it,” Darcy said with a surprisingly handsome smile, which nobody in Meryton had ever witnessed before.
Much to Lydia’s shock, she saw that the man was Mr Bingley, and he was brandishing a paper.
“Just barely. I feared I might be late. I underestimated my sisters’ resolve to impede my progress, though their machinations did not slow me for long.”
“What do you mean?” Lydia screamed, startling everyone in the company, including the very stern looking parson who had joined them unnoticed.
Wickham hissed at her, and the others regarded the pair of them, probably reflecting that they deserved each other.
The vicar extended his hand and took the paper, examined it for only a moment, then said, “Time marches on, ladies and gentlemen.”
With that, Jane assumed a beatific smile, matched by Elizabeth, and oddly enough, Mr Darcy.
Without hesitation, she took Mr Bingley’s arm and approached the altar.
Darcy and Lizzie followed behind, and much like a nightmare where you live some nonsensical sequence over and over with the characters changing slightly between scenes, they repeated yet another ‘Dearly beloved’ with two from the previous incarnation.
Another ceremony ticked by in agonising silence as Lydia seethed that even though she was the first engaged, she would be the fourth married… almost dead last.
Another half-hour saw yet another decrease in the average amiability of the Bennet family, coupled with a corresponding increase in the Bingleys.
The signing of the wedding register, and the introduction of Mrs Bingley was proceeding apace, when the door opened yet again.
Lydia finally stamped her foot at the interruption, and Wickham had to speak to her even more sternly than before. Her antics were of no use, and he was wondering how long it would take him to teach her to hold her temper.
He leaned down and said, “We need to live by my motto, Lydia—Bide your time and hold your fire."
She gazed at him in confusion, and he added, “Revenge is a dish best served cold. Your antics do us no good. Save your ire for when it can be put to good use. They will receive their just deserts, but not today!”
She spent some considerable time trying to work her way through it, which was all to his purpose. His position was precarious enough without her throwing a tantrum.
Lydia finally calmed just in time to see Kitty appear on the arm of Jason Goulding.
Lydia knew the Goulding’s third son had carried a torch for her sister for years, and she had done as much as possible to thwart him.
She knew he was the son of a gentleman, but a poor one, who had chosen to enter trade like her Uncle Gardiner.
He was not worthy of a Bennet, according to her mother.
The pair appeared, and Mr Gardiner gave a frown worthy of a gorgon at the lack of a chaperone.
Jane, ever the appeaser, said, “Well met, Mr Goulding.”
Everyone regarded him askance, while Mr Gardiner said, “When I left you alone at Gracechurch Street, this was not what I had in mind, Kitty.”
“I know, Uncle, but—” and then she could not quite finish.
Mr Goulding said, “I hate to interrupt, Mr Gardiner, but I encountered Mr Bennet on the way here, and I have his consent.”
“His consent to what exactly?”
“To marry Miss Katherine, of course. I took a position three months ago, and was just summoning my courage when I heard about… the… ah—”
He clearly exhausted the pleasant ways to say what he needed to in mixed company, and Mary took pity on him.
“You heard about our disgrace and—”
He straightened his back and stood taller. “Yes, I heard and decided it was my chance. Let us be honest—a third son would have to have a position for several years to even be considered, but… well—”
Gardiner frowned, but Darcy intervened with quiet authority.
“Mr Gardiner, while one could argue that Mister Goulding is taking advantage of a bad situation to gain what might otherwise be an unattainable alliance, I might offer a different perspective. I have recently been properly humbled, and I suspect I can understand the man and his motives.”
“You have the floor, Mr Darcy,” Gardiner said, though not with much enthusiasm.
He turned to Goulding and asked, “I presume you did not know about Miss Lydia’s pending nuptials when you spoke to Mr Bennet?”
“No sir. I did not, and that gentleman ah… neglected to mention it.”
Darcy continued, “And even with the disgrace of the family, you chose to take the risk.”
“Kitty is worth the risk, sir. I notice you appear to be quite close to Miss Elizabeth, so I presume you understand.”
“Mrs Darcy,” Elizabeth said with a smile.
“Congratulations, madam—” he said, not yielding an inch. He glanced about and said, “May I presume I missed the introduction of Mrs Bingley, and perhaps even—”
Mary gave him a smile, “Mrs Fitzwilliam, at your service.”
“My pleasure, madam.”
Mary continued, “As untoward as the question sounds, Mr Goulding, are you being mercenary or gallant.”
“I would like to say the latter, Mrs Fitzwilliam, but it is not for me to say.”
Elizabeth started to ask something but was interrupted by Kitty. Her voice was soft and very un-Lydia-like, but it sounded quite strong.
“Is anyone going to bother asking my opinion?”
“Of course… Katherine. What is your opinion?”
She looked about and said, “You may all think me too young, and too silly—even though you are allowing my far stupider sister to marry a bounder!”
Wickham bristled, but Kitty paid him no mind.
“I know I am full young, but I have known Simon all my life. He is a good man and always has been. I never entertained any hopes I could attract him, what with Mama and Lydia driving away even Jane’s beaus—”
“I do not!” Lydia hissed, but Elizabeth and Mary stared at her until she subsided.
Kitty said, “This morning, I was desperate. I no longer need be, but I believe I have found my champion. I can honestly say that I am the only woman here who has known her beau for more than a few weeks or months, and I think I am as ready to make my own decisions as any of you. I am certainly as ready as Mary was a quarter-hour after meeting her husband.”
“Are you saying you wish to marry, Kitty… er… Katherine?” Uncle Gardiner asked.
“I am. Simon has asked, I have answered, he has my father’s consent and blessing. The only thing preventing us from marrying this minute is that we cannot afford the license.”
Gardiner merely shook his head, but Darcy said, “Gardiner, a moment of your time.”
The two men stepped aside to speak quietly, though they did not exchange more than a few words before their wives joined them and were welcomed into the circle.
They returned a moment later, and Darcy said, “A common license only costs a couple of pounds Mr Goulding, but it carries a seven day wait. You can obviate that with a one hundred pound deposit. My wife and I offer that as our gift to you if you are certain. Bear in mind, you are perfectly able to court openly now that Miss Lydia’s shame is being addressed. ”
“Like you were openly courting Lizzie in Lambton?” Kitty said with an edge to her voice.
“A fair point,” Darcy said with a laugh, which his wife joined.
“Show me what you have,” the parson said, and Simon hurried to join him.
With a long-suffering sigh, he said, “With Mr Darcy’s generous gift, we can perform the ceremony now.
Lydia growled in frustration, and then even more when Elizabeth took it upon herself to draw the couple aside and question Simon in some depth about his prospects.
Darcy stood by and observed, neither hastening nor impeding her interrogation.
The questioning went on endlessly, or at least for a quarter-hour, before Elizabeth was satisfied.
With a smile and a kiss on the cheek, she bade the couple forward and sent Mr and Mrs Bingley to stand with them.
Lydia ground her teeth and wanted to throw something at someone but was cheered by one thought.
She had no more sisters, so even though she would not be first, she was seven years younger than Jane, and she would be married youngest.
Mama would be so proud!