Chapter 9 Relative Transition #4
“Mama,” Lizzy squeaked after gulping from her cup as instructed. “Am I understanding you correctly? Did you invite Lydia to our wedding?”
“She is your sister, Lizzy. Oh, I know you said there was some issue between Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham”—Mrs. Bennet waved her hand, the gesture conveying her apathy—“but how serious could it be? Besides, what better way to heal past transgressions than at a wedding?”
Truly dumbfounded, Lizzy gaped at her mother.
Kitty frowned but was feeding pieces of a biscuit to her puppy and paying minimal attention.
Mary flicked her eyes between the two, clearly troubled and confused.
Jane was the only one in the room who knew the truth, and her countenance was as gloomy as Lizzy had ever seen it.
“Mama, I am quite vexed with you, I must confess.”
Four sets of brows arched as four sets of eyes widened. Coming from sweet, perpetually unruffled Jane, this was as rough as it got.
“Mr. Darcy’s reasons are his own to keep but should not be minimized or disregarded.
He is an upstanding gentleman deserving the utmost respect.
We miss Lydia but must never pretend she did not make wrong choices which nearly destroyed this family.
Remember too that Papa has declared, most emphatically, that neither Lydia or Mr. Wickham are welcome at the wedding.
He barely welcomed them to Longbourn after their wedding and only at our behest, relenting for that one short visit only.
Therefore, I strongly suggest you pen another missive immediately, uninviting the Wickhams in language without ambiguity, and send it by courier to Newcastle posthaste. ”
The speech, a long one for Jane and delivered in a firmly disapproving tone, left all of them too stunned for a swift response.
Struggling to contain her vexation, as Jane had understatedly put it, Lizzy finally felt able to speak without screaming.
“Please, Mama, take Jane’s advice. Either of them at the wedding, especially Mr. Wickham, would be an unmitigated disaster.
It simply cannot happen, not under any circumstances. ”
“Oh very well! Quit badgering! I shall write to Lydia. It isn’t probable she would travel the distance. Newcastle might as well be the Americas it is so far away.”
Tension remained thick, despite a handful of half-hearted attempts to interject with something frivolous.
They rose from the table, slowly resuming the packing and organizing project.
Gaiety restored little by little, although not quite to the level it had been.
Lizzy missed William, and then there was the news she needed to impart.
Groaning inwardly, still not keen on facing more of her mother’s nervous hysterics, she decided to try again.
Inserting cheeriness into her tone, Lizzy turned from the bureau.
“My word! I almost forgot. Mama, the letter from Miss Bingley reminded me of something else. I fear that with all the wedding excitement, it slipped my mind to tell you that Mr. Darcy has three additional guests coming to the wedding.”
Mrs. Bennet, who was standing at the side of the bed and folding a stack of lightweight summer gowns, and straightened with a jerk.
At the instant look of panic crossing her face, Lizzy hastened to her side.
“No one to accommodate at Longbourn, Mama. Netherfield has plenty of room and is a more convenient location since the wedding feast is to be held there anyway.”
“Oh my! We will need to adjust the amount of food! Why did you not tell me sooner? Is this in addition to his sister, Miss Darcy?”
“The food will be quite sufficient, Mama,” Jane assured hastily. “We have an abundance purchased as it is and shall be eating off the remains for a week. Three additional mouths will not be a burden.”
“Indeed,” Lizzy nodded, squeezing her mother’s hand. “Naturally, you needed to know, and I apologize for not telling you sooner, but it is nothing to concern yourself with.”
“I hope it isn’t that horrid aunt of his that Mr. Collins toadies to. Frowning, churlish old people should not be at a wedding,” Kitty muttered absently as she inspected the array of perfume and cosmetic containers on the vanity.
Mrs. Bennet gasped, her hand pressed against her chest. “Lady Catherine de Bourgh? Oh, goodness gracious! I never imagined! Oh dear, oh dear—”
“Mama, calm yourself. I can assure you that Lady Catherine has not been invited to the wedding and if she had the nerve to show up would be thrown out. I am speaking of Mr. Darcy’s other aunt and uncle.
” Eyes darting to Jane, who nodded encouragingly, Lizzy inhaled deeply.
Still holding on to her mother’s free hand, she continued.
“This would be the Earl and Countess of Matlock, and their youngest son, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
After the briefest of pauses, Lizzy and Jane steeling themselves for the histrionics, Mrs. Bennet pressed a finger to her lips and asked, “A colonel, you say? Mr. Darcy’s cousin is a colonel?
And he is coming to the wedding? Well, well.
” Mrs. Bennet swiveled speculative eyes to the impervious Kitty, then back to Lizzy.
“Would this officer and son of an earl be a bachelor by chance?”
How in the world had Lizzy not anticipated this reaction? In all the worried discussions with Jane over how to break the news of an earl and countess attending the wedding without their mother fainting, never had raptures over Colonel Fitzwilliam occurred to them.
In a blink, the tension over Lydia, worries over wedding decor and meals, and even concerns about the marriage bed and scandalous undergarments faded away. The thrill of a flesh-and-blood army officer overruled them all.
Should I tell Mama he is a confirmed bachelor? Quickly, Lizzy discarded that idea. This promised to be far too much fun. Poor Richard! He has no idea what he is in for. Wait until William hears this.
* * *
“These are the last two, Mr. Hill.” Lizzy pointed at the boxes stacked by the door. “Be careful with your back. They have books inside, so are extremely heavy.”
“I can manage, Miss Elizabeth, but thank you for the warning.”
Holding in her smile, Lizzy nodded, then turned away.
The elderly Longbourn butler was a dear man, and quite proud.
Never would she wish to embarrass him by watching him struggle to lift the weighty boxes.
Ignoring the grunts and muttered curses, she pretended absorbing interest in the open portmanteau on her bed.
It had taken a week to thoroughly go through every nook and cranny of the two bedchambers and for the rest of the house to be searched for anything belonging to Jane or Lizzy.
The wedding was still over a week away, so it hadn’t been critical to rush the job.
However, they both discovered an urgency to finish once the cleaning, sorting, and packing enterprise had begun.
Now, finally, it was complete. Or mostly so, that is.
Jane’s boxed items were stowed in her unused bedroom.
They would be carted to Netherfield later in the week.
The proximity to Longbourn meant that Jane hadn’t needed to pack as tightly and carefully as Lizzy.
Nor had Jane needed to plan carefully for what to stow away and what to keep at hand.
The balance of what to send ahead to Pemberley and what to carry with her in the carriage after the wedding had been more difficult than Lizzy imagined.
Mr. Darcy requested transporting her things to Pemberley sooner rather than later, so the boxes containing the bulk of her possessions were, at that moment, being loaded onto a wagon parked on the front drive.
“If it is not too much of an inconvenience,” he had said, “to ship your possessions this week, the earlier arrival will provide the Pemberley staff plenty of time to unpack and organize. They can ensure the new Mrs. Darcy’s personal effects are readily available when we arrive home. ”
Mrs. Darcy. Home.
The way he had said the words while gazing at her with his incredibly blue eyes awash with love and happiness, had filled her with a flood of emotions she could not begin to define. Remembering his countenance helped in easing the bouts of sadness.
When the butler’s footsteps clunked down the staircase, Lizzy slumped onto the edge of the bed and closed her eyes.
The request had been logical, of course.
Just not easy. The Darcy coach was spacious and sturdy enough to handle several trunks and a dozen luggage cases, but she only owned a few and wasn’t about to mention this fact.
She knew William well enough to be certain he would dash out and purchase a whole new set of the most expensive traveling paraphernalia on the market.
Such extravagances would soon be a part of her life, but she wasn’t Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley yet.
So, she had packed, unpacked, and repacked the baggage she owned a dozen times at least, making sure they could contain what she required for the next week.
The lone trunk and three bags now waited for the final packing day.
They were vivid reminders of the fast-approaching end to this period of her life.
Opening her eyes, Lizzy’s gaze fell on the open trunk and then lifted to slowly scan the room.
Indeed, the reminders of her life changing were all around her.
Or rather, the lack of them was the reminder.
The once-cluttered bedchamber had been gutted.
The walls were bare, not a trinket was in sight, the majority of the drawers were empty, and the back wall of the wardrobe was visible for the first time in well over a decade.
Gaps amongst the furniture from those pieces Lizzy was sending to Pemberley made the room appear ravaged and uneven.
It was her familiar sanctuary no longer, and the sensation was deeply unsettling.
Envision William’s eyes and how he spoke of our home.
It helped, to a degree.