Chapter 1
Chapter One
ELIZABETH
Elizabeth Bennet woke up on her wedding day feeling quite splendid.
She had surprised herself by sleeping much better than she had expected. She woke up in Jane’s bed, in the room she and Jane shared whenever Elizabeth was at Longbourn. Mary was still sleeping in Elizabeth’s bed.
Mary had lost her own small bed chamber to Mr Collins, the day before, in the afternoon.
When they had retired for the night, the night before, Mary had insisted that Elizabeth sleep in her own bed, alone.
“You are the bride, Lizzy! You need to sleep comfortably! It will not matter too much if Jane or I look exhausted, but Mama will never forgive any of us if you do!”
Jane agreed with Mary, but everyone knew that Mary found it very difficult to sleep with anyone else in her bed.
She had always been that way. In contrast, Elizabeth and Jane had slept in the same bed quite a few times.
When Elizabeth was home, Jane and she used to take advantage of their precious time together by talking and giggling deep into the night.
It was easier to hear one another’s whispers when in the same bed, and sometimes the two sisters grew so sleepy during their discussions, they woke up in the morning to the realisation that Elizabeth had never made it to her own bed.
That had not happened recently, of course.
Not only were they grown now, but it was impossible for Elizabeth to share everything with Jane.
She had William for that. More importantly, she had several reasons to maintain her privacy, when it came to what she and William said to one another and how she and William felt about one another.
Most of all, she had every reason to maintain privacy regarding the…activities she and William did together.
Such things were too dear to speak of. William was surprisingly shy and even more privacy-minded than most people. Another shy person to consider was Jane herself. She had proven to be very upset with topics concerning…activities.
Jane even became upset when she realised that Elizabeth and William had shared their views about loyalty to marriage vows.
That was a crucial conversation, and Elizabeth was extremely pleased with William’s relative ease in speaking about such things, even near the very beginning of their relationship.
Of course, a thousand times more pleasing was the fact that William was in complete agreement with Elizabeth: they were both inexperienced, untouched in that way, and they would both practice absolute adherence to the vow to forsake all others, to keep only to each other, so long as they both shall live.
Feeling her sister’s body warmth as Jane’s back pressed against her own, Elizabeth remembered that, beginning that very night, she would have William for this comfortable intimacy: a warm body in her bed.
She felt herself blush. But she would soon be a married lady—the time for embarrassment about such things was over.
Elizabeth carefully climbed out of bed, refreshed herself and washed up as well as she could while remaining almost entirely silent, and pulled on a dressing gown.
Most fair days, she would quickly dress and then head out for her walk—and her beloved William—but this was her wedding day.
She would not dress until she put on her wedding gown, and she would not walk until she was walking down the aisle… to William.
She poured out a glass of cool water to sip, and she carefully leafed through the book that sat on her desk, seeking the note William had pressed into her hand the night before.
He had explained, “I know you will wake up before your sisters, and you will have nothing to do. You will not wish to wake them at dawn, and you will not be able to take your usual walk. At that moment, please open and read this.”
He knew her so well!
It had been quite difficult for Elizabeth to refrain from reading the note the night before, but she had held onto the fact that he was correct—she would wake early, and she would wish to be quiet, and she would, in fact, not have anything to do.
Holding the precious note, still unopened, for a few moments, Elizabeth contemplated how her name looked in his well-known, well-loved script. She kissed the paper and then carefully unsealed and unfolded the note.
My dearest Elizabeth,
We have waited a long time for this day.
Indeed, we have waited our entire lives.
Still, this morning’s ceremony will not be a culmination, but rather a beginning.
There will be many high moments ahead of us, many of them much more dramatic than exchanging the vows in front of others that we long ago made to one another, privately.
However, the public nature of this ceremony means that there are many things we have denied ourselves that will suddenly, all at once, be possible.
I cannot choose any one of them that I look forward to the most. Naturally, I look forward to demonstrating my love for you in all the ways we have not yet been able to share.
However, I also look forward to many things that may seem rather insignificant to one who is not in love: I look forward to waking up in the middle of the night and watching you sleep.
I look forward to waking up in the morning and seeing your beautiful face when I first open my eyes.
I look forward to travelling with you, not so that we may spend hours together in carriages—although there will undoubtedly be many delights to be had during those hours—but so I may show you the places you have dreamt of seeing.
Of course, I look forward to having children with you, and I have many more distant hopes that I shall not enumerate here.
I wish I could promise to be as unreserved with you as you will surely be with me.
Your presence in my life has loosened my tongue in group settings—friends and relations have informed me that you seem to animate me in a way nothing else ever has—but I still feel tangle-tongued at times, when you are near.
My penchant for saying that I am sorry, which unfortunately has irritated you in the past, is in part an attempt to express that I have no words for what I feel.
Perhaps I will have to memorise every love poem ever written, so that I might quote an appropriate poem when I cannot find my own words.
To that goal, Sir Walter Raleigh’s words might better express what I am attempting to say:
PASSIONS are liken'd best to floods and streams:
The shallow murmur, but the deep are dumb;
So, when affection yields discourse, it seems
The bottom is but shallow whence they come.
They that are rich in words, in words discover
That they are poor in that which makes a lover.
I assure you with my pen, and my hand, and my soul — whether my tongue is loose or tangled up, my love is constant. Look into my eyes, my love, if you ever doubt—and you will always, always see my love for you there.
Yours for always, F.D.
Elizabeth re-read the note, and re-re-read the poem, and she sat in her little chair by her little desk, looking out of her little bedroom window…
at the great big world that waited for her, with William at her side.
She did not scramble to answer his beautiful words—her answer would be in her eyes as she walked down the aisle to him.
She did not flutter around getting ready for the ceremony—she had hours left for that.
Elizabeth just sat, and looked, and felt happy.