Chapter 20 The Wedding Breakfast
When the Darcy carriage pulled into the drive at Longbourn, Elizabeth noticed that there were already several conveyances in the drive and the yard. Miller opened the door and set down the steps. Darcy descended and then handed Elizabeth down.
The sight of her made his breath catch in his throat.
She was elegant and altogether lovely, the bronze streaks in her hair catching the sunlight as brightly as the diamonds at her throat.
His eyes followed the necklace to where it rested against the swell of her bosom, which looked as smooth as silk beneath the lace.
The graceful lines of her figure drew his gaze lower until her words recalled him.
“Shall we go in, Mr. Darcy?”
“Elizabeth, your gown is exquisite. When did you find time to go shopping?”
She laughed softly. “My father sent Aunt Gardiner money and an urgent message to shop for me. I have two others just as lovely.”
He placed her hand on his arm, and together they entered the house.
Mrs. Bennet came forward to greet them. Elizabeth braced herself, expecting the familiar shrill tone and a set down. Instead, her mother inclined her head and greeted them in a modulated voice.
“Congratulations, daughter. I wish you happy.”
Elizabeth inclined her head, but inwardly she felt surprise. For once, there was no trace of censure. It was not a warm greeting; on the other hand, it held no reproach. Mrs. Bennet turned to Darcy and curtsied.
“Congratulations, sir. I wish you happy.”
He bowed. “Thank you, madam.”
Mr. Bennet stepped forward, amusement lighting his eyes. He kissed her cheek.
“Congratulations, Lizzy.” Then, in a low, confidential voice, he asked, “Are you pleased with your mamma?”
“Very,” she said with a laugh. “She was decorous.”
He smiled broadly. “Yes, she was. She is teachable, Lizzy.”
As they moved farther into the room, Elizabeth saw Mr. Collins with Miss King on his arm. He gave her a slow, deliberate grin, then he winked. She flushed and averted her eyes. Darcy missed the exchange, but he felt her start and looked down at her.
“What is it, Elizabeth?”
Her cheeks were crimson. He scanned the room and saw Mr. Collins watching them with a smirk.
“It is well, my darling. He will not trouble you so long as you remain at my side or with your father.”
Just then, Richard approached and bowed.
“Mrs. Darcy, a pleasure. You are one of those rare women who look equally lovely walking in a garden in simple muslin or dressed in diamonds and silk on her wedding day.”
Darcy grimaced. “Enough, Richard. If I had known you meant to flirt with my bride, I would not have allowed you to attend me.”
Richard laughed. “Cousin, you need to loosen up. It is acceptable to give a compliment when it is deserved.”
Jane and Mary came forward to kiss their sister, and then Mrs. Gardiner approached. Elizabeth made the introductions.
Darcy bowed graciously. “Mrs. Gardiner, Elizabeth tells me you purchased this lovely gown on her behalf.”
Mrs. Gardiner smiled. “I did, sir, and it was a pleasure. When the intended is young and beautiful, shopping for her is no chore.”
Darcy’s eyes moved back to Elizabeth. “Indeed, ma’am. My wife would look well in anything she wore. I believe she would even turn out charming in a dress made of flour sacks.”
Elizabeth and her aunt laughed.
“Lizzy,” said Mrs. Gardiner, “the two of you should serve yourselves while the food is hot.”
Elizabeth turned to her husband. “Shall we? I am quite hungry.”
“Yes, let us eat,” he replied. “Shall I seat you and serve your plate?”
She shook her head. “No, please, let me remain with you. I will hold the plate, and you may serve me.”
He glanced around and saw Collins' wolfish stare directed at his wife. “Very well, let us go together.”
They served themselves and sat down at an empty table. Soon Jane, Bingley, Richard, Georgiana, and Mary joined them. Elizabeth relaxed. Collins would not foist himself on her now.
Mr. Darcy excused himself to serve his sister a plate.
Elizabeth turned to Richard. “Colonel, when do you begin your new duties?”
“I report to the War Office in late September,” he said.
“Will you remain with us through the summer?”
“I will. Darcy promises fishing, hunting, and riding. And Hurst has invited an American to show us the latest in firearms.”
Elizabeth asked, “Is there a young lady you would like me to invite to Pemberley, someone you wish to court?”
Richard hesitated, then said, “There is someone. Her name is Isabella Lewis. She lives near Matlock, my father’s seat, but I am afraid her brother does not favor my suit.”
“Does my husband know Mr. Lewis?”
“They attended Cambridge together,” Richard said with a grin, “though I believe they were competitors rather than friends.”
Elizabeth laughed softly. “Did Mr. Darcy have an amiable relationship with anyone other than you and his sister?”
Richard chuckled. “Mrs. Darcy, it did not take you long to sum him up.”
She smiled wryly. “No, sir, it was not difficult, for he insulted me twice in little more than a month of acquaintance. Those are merely the occasions of which I am aware; there may well be others.”
He smiled broadly, and she saw his teeth were white and even. She realized the colonel was almost as handsome as his cousin. He said, “The more time I spend in your company, the better I like you.”
“Then we shall be friends, Colonel,” she said. “Perhaps I can persuade Mr. Darcy to invite Mr. Lewis and his sister to Pemberley. I will claim it is to provide suitable company for my sisters.”
Richard bowed slightly. “If you can manage that, I will owe you a debt too large ever to repay.”
“Well then, sir,” she teased, “I like having a debt or two owed me. I will do it.”
When she finished her meal, Darcy leaned toward her. “Elizabeth, have you finished eating?”
“I have. If I eat another crab cake, I will be ill.”
He laughed. “They were very good. Your mother knows how to set a fine table.”
“Thank you, sir. I will tell her so when I write.”
He smiled. “We should greet our guests. It is already half past eleven, and I hope to leave by three.”
“Yes, I agree.”
They began greeting their guests as they made their way through the various rooms. When they entered the blue saloon, Elizabeth stopped short.
Nicholas Jones stood there with an elegantly dressed woman on his arm.
Her eyes ran down the woman’s form from head to toe.
She was tall, slender, but plain. Her nose looked too large for her face, and her hair was straight, mousy brown, and thin.
She had no figure to speak of. The realization struck her at once; he had married her for her money.
Darcy bent his head. “Elizabeth, are you well?”
She hesitated, tempted to dissemble, but his next words dissuaded her. “Your eyes tell me you are distressed.”
She drew close and whispered, “A boy I loved when I was young is here with his wife.
He left me to seek a profession and a woman with a dowry.
Those were his parting words. “I was broken-hearted for two years, a pain I kept carefully hidden from society, yet his conduct and the manner of his departure left me exposed to the derision of my neighbors for disappointed hopes. I cannot believe he is here at my wedding. What could he have been thinking to intrude on me in this way?”
Darcy’s voice was low. “Darling, your eyes are telling. His actions, his abandonment, injured you. Let us go to him. Perhaps he only means to congratulate a woman he once held in esteem.”
Elizabeth approached her former beau, secure in her husband’s presence. When they reached the couple, Nicholas smiled. “Elizabeth, it has been years.”
“Yes,” she said evenly, “four years since you left for university.”
He turned to the woman beside him. “May I introduce my wife? Miranda, this is my good friend Elizabeth Bennet Darcy.”
Elizabeth curtsied. “Mrs. Jones.” Then she turned to her husband, “And this is Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, my husband. Darling, this is my childhood beau, Mr. Nicholas Jones.”
The two men bowed to each other. “Mr. Jones, I am pleased to meet you. Thank you for attending our wedding breakfast. Do you live in the area?”
“No, sir, we live in London. I came home at my father’s request. He wished me to make amends with Mrs. Darcy before he passes.”
“I am sorry to hear that he is ill,” Elizabeth said gently. “Is he living with you now?”
“Yes, these past two years. I am a solicitor with Thomson Snell and Passmore. Miranda is a granddaughter of one of the Passmore brothers.”
“I am happy for you, Nicholas. You have done well for yourself.” She turned to the lady beside him. “Mrs. Jones, thank you for attending our Wedding Breakfast.”
Mrs. Jones inclined her head. “Mr. Darcy, are you related to the Darcys of Pemberley?”
He inclined his head. “Yes, ma’am. I am the Darcy of Pemberley.”
Her eyes widened. “I did not realize the Mr. Darcy my grandfather worked with was so young. I believe our firm assisted you with your real estate development in Mayfair.”
“Your grandfather worked with my father, who passed away quite young. And you are correct, most of my real estate holdings are managed through Thomson Snell and Passmore.”
Mrs. Jones suddenly gestured toward the doorway. “Excuse me, please. I have just seen a beloved friend. Nicholas, Edward Gardiner is here.” She released her husband’s arm and crossed the room. “Edward, I have not seen you in years. Where are you living now?”
Mr. Gardiner bowed over her hand. “Miranda, Nicholas, you both look well. I did not know you were acquainted with my niece, or are you here on behalf of Mr. Darcy?”
“Neither,” Miranda replied lightly. “Nicholas wished to see his childhood sweetheart. Tell me, which firm are you with now?”
“I established my own practice five years ago, immediately after leaving Thomson’s.”
“If you ever wish to return, let me know. Father still speaks of you with the greatest regard.”