Chapter 28 #2
During their walk, it was resolved that Mr. Bennet’s consent should be asked following Jane and Mary’s marriage.
Perhaps the day after the happy couples’ vows—when Jane and Bingley had departed for their tour to Devon and Cornwall, and Mary and Mr. Collins to Hunsford.
Elizabeth reserved for herself the application for her mother’s consent.
That she would be violently delighted was without doubt, but she hoped that Mr. Darcy could bear the first raptures of her joy.
Yet there was more—Elizabeth doubted she would receive her father’s approbation when told of her need to marry in London, and of the ball arranged to welcome her into society.
The day after the wedding brought the typical ennui that such events do. Kitty and Lydia were forlorn, for a great wind had come up, and their bonnets would not survive a walk into Meryton. Mrs. Bennet was surprised when that afternoon, Mr. Darcy came to the door and asked to see Mr. Bennet.
“Oh, sir. Please tell me that nothing has happened to Mr. Bingley, or to Mr. Collins. I can think of no other reason for your visit.”
“On the contrary, ma’am,” he said kindly. “’Tis nothing of the kind.” He looked at Elizabeth with such a loving smile, that she blushed, hiding her face and pretending to admire her embroidery.
Mrs. Bennet looked at her daughter, as the broad shoulders of Mr. Darcy disappeared into Mr. Bennet’s study.
“Lizzie? You have that look… the same when you took the last of the lemon biscuits from Mrs. Hill’s jar.”
“Oh, Mama, I cannot hold it back. I have such extraordinary news, that we promised to withhold until Jane and Mary were married, for we had no wish to steal a part of their joy. You may just now have guessed it. Mr. Darcy and I are engaged to be married. Mr. Darcy… Fitzwilliam has gone to seek Papa’s blessing. ”
Mrs. Bennet sat quite still, and unable to utter a syllable.
Nor was it under many, many minutes, that she could comprehend what she heard; though not in general backward to credit what was for the advantage of her family.
She began at length to recover, to fidget about in her chair, get up, sit down again, wonder, and bless herself.
“Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think! dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it really true?”
“Indeed, Mama, these past eight months, while Mr. Darcy was in Ireland, I managed the affairs of Pemberley, his grand estate in Derbyshire. We exchanged letters—oh, so proper for I was acting for Child naturally, the Duke of Leinster, who will be staying with us at Darcy House—oh, I do hope that Lydia and Kitty are well behaved; of course, Miss Georgiana Darcy, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and Miss Anne; then, Lord and Lady Matlock—Darcy’s aunt and uncle; their son Viscount Milton and his wife, and Colonel Fitzwilliam; likely Lord Jersey, certainly Lady Jersey, head partner of Child the patronesses of Almack’s—Lady Castlereagh, Lady Cowper, and Lady Sefton, Princess Esterhazy, and Countess Lieven—a little too aware of their own superiority, but, once you come to know them, quite kind; the partners of Child’s, all splendid people.
Do you wish the full list? It is a little gauche, but all will need to show their invitation at the door, for the seating is limited.
A trifle hot if it were summer, but a winter ceremony should keep the air quite pleasant.
Once again, Mrs. Bennet sat quite still. “Y—you said we were to stay at Darcy House, that the Gardiners would accommodate my sister Phillips?”
“Indeed, Mama. I am assured there are more than sufficient bedrooms. Jane will stay with the Hursts in Hanover Street, who have kindly offered accommodation to Mary and Mr. Collins as well.”
“B—but, the Duke of Leinster will also be in residence. Oh my, my dearest child. I had never realised, I did not know that Mr. Darcy was so high. Please, please, my darling, do not lose your liveliness, I couldn’t bear to see you trapped in an unequal marriage.
I know your disposition, Lizzy—you could scarcely escape discredit or misery. ”
Elizabeth took her mother’s hands. “Dearest Mama, you should pity Fitzwilliam, for he truly finds the ton snobbish and elite, and disdains social frivolity. Once he found what Lady Jersey was planning, I feared I would have to drag him to the altar.”
“Lady Jersey? Why is she involved in your wedding?”
“She is my sponsor, ma’am. I am the private secretary to Lady Sarah Child Villiers, Countess of Jersey, who is head partner of Child I myself am a partner in the bank. While I might have little consequence in my own right, marrying Mr. Darcy has elevated us both to the highest sphere of society.
I cannot say I applaud it, but when I introduce you to Lady Jersey, you will find she has the strongest sense of humour and takes the keenest delight in a good joke. ”
Elizabeth took her mother’s hands in hers. “Do not fret, Mama. Think of Lydia all grown up, and you may have some insight into Lady Jersey’s character—though, I daresay, the lady is a little more circumspect.”
* * *
Almack’s Assembly Rooms were glowing when Elizabeth, on Darcy’s arm, entered from King Street.
The patronesses, as ever, stood guard at the door, allowing only those with an invitation to enter.
Elizabeth had changed into a gown suitable for dancing, for her wedding dress of delicate, shimmering silk included a demi-train which trailed behind her.
The ceremony itself was but a blur—she had entered St. George’s Church as Mrs. Elizabeth Bennet, and left as Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy.
On the steps of the church, as they waited for their chaise to arrive, she reached up and gently kissed Darcy on the cheek.
“Oh, Fitzwilliam, you make me so happy.”
She wore a Grecian robe of cherry-blossom crepe over a white satin petticoat, with a satin bodice ornamented with white beads and drops, à la militaire; the same continued down the front of the dress.
It was a little daring—the dress was shorter than usual, the hemline falling just above her ankles, showing off her decorative silk stockings and white satin slippers.
She had never danced with Darcy—and the first was a waltz! Darcy, unperturbed, took her right hand in his left, placing his right hand around her waist.
“If you wish it, Elizabeth,” he whispered, “place your left hand on my shoulder. I shall lead, and you follow my steps.”
Never had they been so close before—certainly it was scandalous, yet the closeness sent a thrill through her body.
She caught the scent of him—sandalwood and amber.
Elizabeth looked up into Darcy’s face; indeed, his eyes were flecked with gold.
“I can scarcely believe that society countenances such public intimacy,” she murmured.
“Do you think, Fitzwilliam, that everyone is looking at us?”
“Not us, my dear, everyone is looking at you. You are the most beautiful woman in the room.”
The band changed their tempo, and the couples who had come to the floor whirled around the ballroom.
It was breathtaking, exhilarating—Elizabeth threw her head back and laughed.
Lord and Lady Jersey swung past; the Duke of Leinster chuckled as he led a young, fair-haired woman across the floor—Georgiana; Lord and Lady Matlock, perfect in their steps; Jane and Bingley in close embrace.
Elizabeth had tears of joy in her eyes when the music came to a gentle stop. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, can we ask that every set is a waltz, and that my card is full—for it is only you with whom I wish to dance this evening.”
* * *