Chapter 13 Matrimony Finalization #2
Returning the smile, her cheeks still prettily pink, Jane tugged on Lizzy’s dangling braid. “I shan’t be the only one. And as you said, we can survive.”
Another laugh, a soft one, then Lizzy sighed. “Dear Jane, I shall miss you so!”
“I shall miss you too. Our lives will be different. Better, hopefully, and certainly not worse, but assuredly different. It will take some adjusting.”
“Christmas will be difficult. I can’t imagine it, to be honest. Pemberley is so beautiful, but I suspect it won’t feel like home. I wish we could be here instead.”
“You might be surprised how quickly Pemberley will become your home, Lizzy. But even if not, it would be foolish to journey back so soon. Mr. Darcy was wise to refuse.”
“I never asked him. Oh, you were right, Jane,” Lizzy admitted at Jane’s raised brows.
“It was ridiculous for me to even think of it. There are a dozen sensible reasons to stay at Pemberley. But I know William. If I asked to come home for Christmas, he would agree. That is how wonderful he is, and it would have been selfish of me. Besides, Georgiana will be there, and possibly Lord and Lady Matlock. I don’t know what their winter plans are but assume they will reside in the country as most people do.
They must live nearby. Or rather, Matlock Bath is near Pemberley.
I have no clue where the Matlock estate is, to be honest, or even what it is named. ”
Falling back onto the pillow, she stared up at the ceiling as she laughed.
“I have much to learn! William did say he has friends in the region. He mentioned the Vernors and the Sitwells, whom I gathered were within a reasonable distance, and he spoke of another gentleman from university who lives in Staffordshire. Or was it Leicestershire?” She frowned, then gave up and shook her head.
“Anyway, surely there will be some holiday entertainments to be had. Besides, even with people I do not know, I shall be luckier than you in one regard.” She turned her head and grinned.
Jane narrowed her eyes, knowing that look. “How so?”
“You get to have Caroline Bingley!”
“Oh, you!” Jane pummeled her with the pillow. A brief spat of childish play ensued but was interrupted by Mrs. Bennet hollering for them to come eat.
With the help of two sisters, their mother, and every maid in the house, Jane and Lizzy were pampered, primped, powdered, and prettified without lifting a single finger.
Betsy was assigned to their hair, the final coiffures elaborate but elegant.
By nine thirty, they were declared the most perfect, resplendent brides ever to be wed in all of Hertfordshire.
Obviously it was a prejudiced assertion, but Jane and Lizzy were also awed by the visions of magnificence reflected in the tall mirrors.
With so much fuss and fun, neither bride had a spare second for nerves to set in. Only when settled into the carriage, with their father sitting across, did they have a chance to breathe.
For the short drive to All Souls Trinity Church, the ancient house of worship constructed of grey-stone and located on the far side of Meryton, they relished the quiet. It was a welcomed twenty minutes of calm reflection to prepare their hearts for the momentous ceremony.
Mr. Bennet smiled softly, his tender, slightly sad eyes moving back and forth between his two eldest daughters.
Lizzy tried to think of a jest to ease the tense emotions she knew they were each feeling.
But the wrong word and the tears tenuously held in check would spill, so she said nothing.
Then, as the carriage crested the rise and the church’s bell tower popped into view, Mr. Bennet broke the silence.
“It is said that tears are expected at weddings, although I believe it is supposed to be the brides who cry with joy. Good thing you have your handkerchiefs handy, but I brought several extras along in case. Just bear in mind that it is not an unending supply, so be careful not to drop the bouquets or accidentally untie a bow, or your mother will have used them up before you two need them.”
Ah! The laughter they needed—and precisely as the carriage jolted to a halt. Faces merry and eyes sparkling, they clasped their proud papa’s arms, ascended the stone steps spanning the entrance to the church, and stopped before the massive solid oak doors.
All Souls Trinity Church, Meryton
~ The Wedding ~
In a separate room inside of the church, the two grooms waited for the agreed upon signal, yet were still startled when it came. The sharp rap on the door was immediately followed by the appearance of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s solemn face squeezing into the gap.
“It. Is. Time,” he intoned sonorously. “Thy brides hath cometh and shalt soon enter the holy church. Thy attendance is requested forthwith.” Then he grinned and shoved the door wide.
Bingley chuckled, or tried to. To Darcy, it sounded more like a weak wheeze, not that he paid much attention to Bingley or his cousin.
Calmly passing by the still-smirking Richard, Darcy walked into the church with Bingley a step behind.
Together they crossed the transept until standing to the left of the priest. Reverend Jenney, resplendent in his official robes, stood in the center of the chancel, his hands folded over a well-used Book of Common Prayer.
He greeted the grooms with one bob of his head and the tiniest possible lift of his lips before returning his eyes to the closed doors at the far end of the nave.
For weeks, Darcy had passively listened to chatter about the desire to adorn the ancient brick church with flowers, ribbons, and candles.
Frankly, he didn't care about the chosen flowers, the ribbon colors, or if there were decorations at all for that matter.
His only desire was to marry in the Pemberley Chapel, but even there, he would not have expressed an opinion on the decor.
However, when he detected Mrs. Bennet’s dismay over the rigid Reverend Jenney’s refusal to permit garnishing the pews with even a single flower and later ascertained that Jane and Elizabeth were saddened by this as well, he decided to intervene.
In truth, as a man of deep faith, he tended to agree with the parish priest on maintaining the solemn atmosphere befitting a sacred place of worship.
Then again, were not flowers God’s gift of beauty and color?
What harm was there in a few ribbons and fragrant blooms if he promised to restrain Mrs. Bennet?
Now, as he swept his eyes over the interior, he was thankful for his powers of persuasion.
Mrs. Bennet, Darcy had to admit, had far exceeded his expectations, the resulting floral display tasteful and modest by anyone’s standards.
She had beautifully arranged small clusters of winter blooms with narrow ribbons of white and gold tied around them.
Adorning the aisle end of each pew was one bouquet, in the center of which was a single, tall, lit candle.
The overall effect was stunning and elegant.
These details he registered swiftly and might not have noticed at all if not for repeatedly reminding himself that this day was special as no other day in his entire life had been or would ever be.
He would later regret it if he could not recall these seemingly minor elements.
Thus, after first checking the main door and ensuring it was still closed, he scanned the church wall to wall.
Peering into the pews, he acknowledged his family, smiling at each one.
Lastly, he swiveled his eyes to the left, where a few paces beyond Charles Bingley stood the two individuals chosen as the official witnesses.
As the only man well known to both Bingley and Darcy, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had been the obvious choice as groom’s attendant and official witness.
Even if Bingley hadn’t been well acquainted with the colonel, or had desired another gentleman as his designated attendant, Darcy would have insisted on his cousin for himself.
The two men teased each other mercilessly, but they were closer and dearer to each other than any two real brothers could be.
Dressed in his full colonel’s regalia, medals shining upon his chest, Richard cut a striking figure.
It was no wonder Mrs. Bennet spent as much time staring at him as she did the two men about to wed her daughters.
Nor was Darcy surprised to note that Kitty wore an expression that was a cross between flirtatious and pouting.
Neither she or her mother had been thrilled at Jane and Lizzy’s designated bridal attendant, but no amount of begging changed their minds.
As the next eldest Bennet daughter, Mary was the proper choice.
However, Darcy knew that, beyond propriety, they had wanted Mary for her soberness and deep faith.
For both, the latter especially, Darcy was pleased with the selection.
The Longbourn maids had managed to talk Mary into styling her hair, adding a bit of jewelry, and wearing a dress with some lace and frilly bits, the result making her almost pretty.
Kitty would have presented a more attractive picture next to the dignified, uniformed Colonel Fitzwilliam, but with Mary at his side, there was no chance of coquetry causing either to forget their solemn purpose.