Chapter 22 #2
Even though Tommy was young to be breeched at four, it was not unheard of at that age.
He had walked upright and proud in his little suit, holding the pillow—which had two rings of no value sewn onto it—steadily before him as he made sure that he kept to the same speed his cousin did as she stopped to throw rose petals on the carpet every step or two.
The pews lining the aisle had white ribbons with two white roses each, one for each bride, symbolising her purity. Each bride’s bouquet, being carried by her maid of honour, was comprised of shades of white, red, and pink roses.
When they reached the head of the aisle, the children went to sit with their mothers and siblings.
At that moment, St Alfred’s vicar nodded and the inner vestibule door leading into the nave of the church was closed.
Then, he signalled the congregation to stand.
As soon as everyone stood, he gave his signal to the men at the rear of the nave.
Each one opened an inner vestibule door as the organist began to softly play a piece from Handel’s The Arrival of the Queen of Sheba from his oratorio Solomon.
As soon as Jane entered the nave of the church, her eyes sought out Andrew, who had locked his eyes onto her. When they were about halfway up the aisle, Sir William and Charlotte began to walk, Maria following them.
Jane was thankful that Mr Pierce, St Hugh’s rector, stood alongside his colleague.
He would administer the vows for Jane and Andrew, while St Alfred’s vicar would do everything else.
By the time Papa stopped near the head of the aisle, Andrew was standing ready to take her hand from Papa.
Her father lifted her delicate lace veil and kissed both of her cheeks, and then replaced it.
She watched as Papa transferred her hand from his own arm to Andrew’s, signifying the transfer of her protection to her soon-to-be husband.
As Andrew led her to her place, the process was repeated by Sir William. The only difference was that Charlotte wore a wedding bonnet, not a veil.
Once both couples and their attendants were before him, the clergyman gave the signal for the congregants to be seated. As soon as all had been seated, the parson opened his Book of Common Prayer to the relevant page and began. “Dearly beloved…”
To the couples being married, the time seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. Before they knew it, the concluding prayers were recited, and they had each been announced man and wife to a cheering congregation.
“Do you want my curtsy now or after we sign the register, Lady Hilldale?” Elizabeth teased her sister.
As she was too busy looking at her husband, Jane ignored Lizzy’s quip. Unfortunately, as there were two couples, they did not tarry in the registry. After their witnesses had signed, Jane signed Bennet one last time while Charlotte waited to write Lucas for a final time.
For her part, Charlotte felt like she needed to pinch herself to wake from this dream, although if it was a dream, she really did not want to wake.
She was now Charlotte Fitzwilliam, all because Eliza had dragged her to London, and Mr Hurst had told her Richard that he wanted him to meet a lady.
He did not have an estate, and they would live in London most of the year, but Charlotte only cared that she was with her Richard.
Thanks to his careful saving over the years and all the money invested with Edward Gardiner, with his wages from his work, they would have close to four thousand pounds per annum.
Richard had not been sure it was enough, while to Charlotte it was a veritable fortune, seeing that Lucas Lodge barely earned one thousand pounds a year.
She would have married him regardless of his fortune because Charlotte, the same woman who had said she did not need love to marry a man, was deeply in love with her husband, as he was with her.
When the couples returned from the registry, their families and closest friends remained. There were personal wishes of happy and hugs bestowed before those who had waited began to make for their conveyances to carry them to Netherfield Park.
Seeing that he had stood up for Richard, Darcy was one of the last to head out of the church.
He was stopped by his cousin, whom he counted more as a brother than a cousin.
“That leaves you as the only single one of our age, William. With Anne, Andy, and me all married, it is your turn now,” Fitzwilliam said next to his cousin’s ear.
“All in good time, Richard, all in good time.” Darcy grinned and made for his coach.
Gigi was with the Bennets, so it was only him in his conveyance.
When Richard had mentioned him marrying, a very pretty face with sparkling emerald-green eyes danced before his eyes, so he sat back and thought of his future, which he was certain, or at least he fervently hoped, included Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Two hours later, both brides having changed, the Fitzwilliams, Darcys, Bennets, Lucases, and Hursts waved farewell to the retreating coaches.
The Hilldale equipage was headed to Ramsgate.
Andrew had considered taking Jane to the Lakes, where his parents owned a house on a hill which had a spectacular view of Lake Windermere as well as some of the smaller waters.
What changed his mind was the rapidly cooling temperatures in the north, so instead they went south, where it was significantly warmer.
The carriage bearing the newlywedded Fitzwilliams, a new one—a Bingley conveyance and a gift from Richard’s parents—was headed in the same general direction, except they were for a house belonging to William Darcy near Brighton.
Like Harry had told him he had done with his wife on the journey after his wedding, Fitzwilliam told his Charlotte exactly what it was that he did and the role that Harry played.
“That is why we have more outriders than my brother and new sister. Whenever you are at home, or leave the house, there will be footmen with you who are much more than footmen, like those giants who are with Harry and his family.”
Charlotte was amazed to learn, along with everything else she learnt, that Harold was Sir Harold and Louisa was Lady Hurst. She could not help but smile.
“What is so amusing, wife of mine?” Fitzwilliam enquired.
“Eliza has divined much of what you have just told me,” Charlotte replied.
Seeing her husband’s shocked look, she added, “She never forgets anything, but not only that, she is able to put memories together to make a picture. She told me that she believes that you work in some secret job and that Harold is not as he portrays to the world.”
“That reminds me that Hurst told me that Lizzy came to the conclusion that the older Mrs Hurst is titled all because she could remember a conversation from some years ago. My late predecessor would have loved to recruit both Jane and Lizzy when they got older if they were not gentleladies. Of course, Bennet would have more than likely objected,” Fitzwilliam related.
“It seems that my cousin William also saw through Harry’s persona, although I do not think he is aware of my job yet, but I believe he and Father suspect. ”
“Perhaps Jane would have refused, but with Eliza’s sense of adventure, I am sure she would have accepted. Enough about that; tell me about Seaview House.”
“I am yours to command…” Fitzwilliam proceeded to follow his orders.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
About a sennight before Easter of 1810, the Bennets, Darcys, Fitzwilliams, Lucases, and Hursts arrived at Rosings Park to celebrate the holy day with Anne and Ian Ashby.
The former was increasing, having just missed her third set of courses, but she had not felt the quickening yet, so she did not plan to tell her family.
The rest of the Ashbys arrived the following day from their estates in Surrey.
The various men had been at their estates for the spring planting, which had ensured that they were all able to attend.
Regardless of her intent, Anne’s Aunt Elaine, Aunt Fanny, Aunt Leticia, and Louisa, who herself had just begun to suspect she was with child again, all took one look at Anne and knew she was enceinte.
The group greatly enjoyed their time together, especially as this was the first time since the wedding in October that the Bennets had seen Jane or the Lucases had seen Charlotte. There were many hugs between the new wives and their families, and not a few tears of happiness were shared.
On the penultimate Sunday of April, the residents of Rosings Park made the less than half-mile walk to St Cuthbert’s Church in Hunsford. It and the parsonage were across a lane from the great estate.
Louisa, Charlotte, and Elizabeth were walking with Anne. As she had always been attuned to the emotions of others, Elizabeth wondered why she detected a certain level of sadness in Anne. “Anne, is everything well? I may be mistaken, but I think you are a little sad.”
“Your perspicacity is startling, Lizzy. I am feeling a little melancholy. The rector, Mr Martin, who has been the parson here for over forty years, will retire at the end of the first week of May. He is the man who christened me and presided over my late papa’s funeral, among so much more.
I suppose I will miss him more than I had suspected I would.
He and his late wife had five children so he has many grandchildren.
He will live with his eldest daughter, her husband, and their five children.
” Anne paused. “I know he will be happy and never want for anything, as I am awarding him a substantial pension, but I will still miss him.”
“Of course you will,” Louisa commented. “It is only natural to do so, as you have known him the whole of your life.”
Anne gave a tremulous smile as they reached the church where her Ian was waiting to guide her to the de Bourgh pew.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The day after they farewelled their guests, Anne and Ian Ashby began to consider candidates to take over the Hunsford parish when Mr Martin retired in a fortnight.
There were four candidates the Bishop of Kent recommended and one who applied because he had heard about the vacant, or soon to be vacant, living.
At Anne’s request, Mr Martin sat with her and Ian when they interviewed the men.
Three of the four the bishop sent were good candidates, and lastly, they interviewed the one who had applied on his own, one William Collins, the curate at St Mary’s Church in Westerham.
All three had to fight not to laugh out loud when the man came before them bowing and scraping like he was before the King.
When he began to speak, even before a question was asked, he displayed subservience, more like sycophancy, to those he considered above him. His speech was laced with a pomposity which manifested in his belief that being a clergyman made him higher than most.
“Mr Collins, stop,” Ashby commanded. “We thank you for your time today, but you are not the man we are looking for to be the spiritual guide for the Hunsford parish.”
“How can that be, Sir? I would serve your needs and obey your every command, and more than that, I would report back what the parishioners…” Collins stopped when the older man, who had not spoken yet, raised his hand. How dare the man interrupt him?
“Mr Collins, unless you want to force me to report what you are saying to the ecclesiastical court, cease speaking. You are speaking of offences which could see you defrocked,” Martin stated.
“As my husband said, you are not what we want for this parish. We need a man who will serve his parishioners, not us. Goodbye, Mr Collins,” Anne said.
Seeing the rather rotund man was about to protest, Ashby stood, drawing himself to his full height.
He was not the tallest of men, but taller than the clergyman before them, and he had taken the measure of the man who he judged to be a coward.
“My wife dismissed you. I suggest you leave with your dignity intact unless you would prefer that I have some of my footmen throw you from our estate.”
Without bowing, so he would punish the people who refused to award him the living he deserved, Collins withdrew with no good cheer.
“That is a man who should not be a clergyman. At least, he is only a curate. I know the vicar at St Mary’s.
I need to speak to him to see if he is aware of what kind of man he has in his employ,” Martin stated.
“Without trying to offend, I believe that man is exactly the kind of man your mother would have appointed to the living if she was still as she was.”
“How can I be upset by the truth? It matters not, because I think we have three good candidates from which to chuse,” Anne reminded the men.
“Anne, you have the right of it. Let us invite each of them to deliver the sermon for the next three Sundays, and then we will make a choice. Are you willing to remain for a few more days than you planned, Mr Martin?” Ashby requested.
“Indeed, I am. That is a good plan,” Martin agreed.