Chapter 32
Elizabeth Bennet gazed around Lydia’s bedchamber. Tomorrow was her wedding day, and this was the last time she would gather with her four sisters as a single woman.
The same was true of Jane, who was on the window seat with her arm around Lydia. Jane and Mr. Bingley had chosen to delay their wedding a full week, not because of Wickham’s attack on Elizabeth, but because she and her love wished to marry the same day as Elizabeth and Darcy.
Anne de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam would also be married in what would be a triple wedding, though by special license since neither individual was an inhabitant of Meryton, nor did they wish to wait on the banns.
“I will miss you all very much,” Elizabeth declared, and discovered that she was crying. As happy as she was to marry Darcy, she was leaving her beloved family behind. She would never again call Longbourn home, and given that her new husband would whisk her north tomorrow, it might be many months, even years, before she was in Meryton again.
The other girls started crying as well and for a few minutes, all that could be heard were sobs. Eventually Kitty, to the surprise of all, spoke up firmly, “Come, we must stop this foolish weeping! Jane and Elizabeth are marrying wonderful gentlemen and we will see them again. It is not as if they are moving to Australia, after all. Even Lizzy is within a few days by carriage, and Jane and Mr. Bingley will be living nearby at Netherfield Hall.”
“Indeed, you are right, Kitty,” Elizabeth agreed, resolutely drying her wet face with a handkerchief. “Jane and I also must impart important information about the Longbourn inheritance. Uncle Philips recently drew up a will at Father’s direction, and under the terms of the will, after my marriage, Mary will be the heiress of Longbourn.”
This struck her younger sisters dumb with astonishment until Mary managed to recover sufficiently to blurt out one question, “Why me and not you or Jane?”
“Father made me his heiress, but with the express provision that if I married, my husband would take the name Bennet as his surname. Mr. Darcy does not wish to do such a thing, and in any case, Pemberley is a great estate in its own right and we do not need Longbourn. Mary, if you stay single, you will inherit Longbourn when Father passes. If you marry and your husband is willing to change his name, you will inherit. If your husband keeps his own name, Kitty will inherit under the same provisions, and so on down to Lydia, who will inherit regardless because you are the youngest child.”
There were sighs of wonder and Mary chewed worriedly on her cheek, “I do not know how to administer Longbourn.”
“Mary, Father is now sober and, God willing, will live many more years. You are an intelligent young woman and, now that you know you may inherit, can spend time with Father and Mr. Gregory in learning how to oversee Longbourn. I am confident that you will do very well.”
/
“I have a wedding present for you,” Bingley announced with a grin.
Darcy stared at his closest friend in horror. He was absolutely terrible about purchasing gifts and often depended on his female relatives and housekeepers for assistance in such matters. What could he get Bingley in return? Perhaps he could ask Elizabeth tomorrow? But they were to leave for Pemberley after the wedding breakfast ...
“The look on your face, my friend!” Bingley chortled. “You are not obliged to buy me something in return since your friendship and assistance here is gift enough. Besides, this particular gift has expressed a desire to be with you. Come, Darcy!”
Darcy obediently followed Bingley out of the house and to the stable where, as he half expected, Maxwell the spaniel was waiting in his kennel with a red bow tied around his fluffy neck. The dog took one look at the gentleman from Derbyshire and began whining with excitement. A stable hand opened the kennel door, and Maxwell leaped out and pawed at Darcy’s boots before sitting down and panting eagerly up at his new master.
“Oh, Bingley,” Darcy demurred as he knelt down to stroke the fine head, “you need not give me your dog.”
“He is your dog now, and Elizabeth’s as well. Maxwell only tolerates me now, whereas he shows rampant excitement and devotion toward you and the lady who will soon be your wife. Take him to Pemberley, find him a mate, and raise some spaniel puppies. You can give us one of the pups, if you like.”
Darcy wavered for all of a second and then smiled broadly, “Thank you, Bingley, he is a wonderful gift!”
/
“Are you anxious about tomorrow night?” Jane asked softly.
The eldest Miss Bennets had retired to Elizabeth’s room for one last cozy talk before they went to sleep and woke up on their joint wedding day.
Elizabeth blinked at her and slowly shook her head, “Darcy is a good man, Jane. I am sure there will be awkward moments, but all will be well.”
Jane leaned back onto a pillow and she smiled dreamily, “Yes, all will be well.”
The two women lay silent for a few minutes, both in deep thought. Jane, whose mind’s eye had conjured up the winsome features of Charles Bingley, was startled when she felt Elizabeth’s hand wrap around her wrist.
“Jane?”
“Yes?”
“Would you ... be willing to sleep here tonight, just like you slept in the same room at Netherfield when I was recovering? I want to sleep well, and I fear ... well, I have had nightmares of late.”
Jane sat up a little and stared at her sister in concern, “Nightmares?”
“Yes, about ...”
“Wickham?”
Elizabeth stared into her sister’s face and inclined her head.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Jane sat up and pulled her beloved Lizzy into a hug, “He will never, ever hurt you again, my dear sister. He is locked up and will be sent across the ocean to Canada.”
“My mind knows that when I am awake, but is quite unregulated when I sleep. But if you are with me, I know I will rest well.”
“And of course, tomorrow Mr. Darcy will be available to chase the bad dreams away.”
Elizabeth Bennet, soon to be Elizabeth Darcy, blushed furiously, “Yes, he will.”
/
Mr. Bennet stood at the back of the sanctuary of the Meryton church with Jane on his right and Elizabeth on his left. In front of him stood Mr. Hurst, who had been pressed into service to escort Anne de Bourgh down the aisle. At the front of the church, dressed in their respective finery, stood Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy.
Mr. Bennet tightened his grip on his girls’ arms, and they turned to him, their expressions questioning. He forced himself to smile at each of them in turn, though his heart beat rapidly, and he had to fight tears. They were so beautiful, his Jane and Elizabeth, both inside and out. He had been a terrible father in many ways – indolent, indifferent, and for more than six long months, a drunkard. Somehow, by the grace of God, his daughters had survived and thrived and matured. And in a few minutes, he would be giving them away to young men who would be honorable, kindly, husbands; indeed, Bingley and Darcy would be far better mates than he had ever been to Mrs. Bennet.
Perhaps there was still time to change, to be a better husband to his nervous and rather foolish wife.
The music started. He plastered on a pleasant expression and began walking slowly down the aisle behind Mr. Hurst and Miss de Bourgh.
Darcy stood at the front of the church, his gaze focused on his Elizabeth. She was dressed in a simple, light green gown which accented the embers in her glorious eyes. Her lustrous hair was piled on her head and held with the pearl combs he had given her as an engagement gift. She was entirely enchanting.
She reached the end of the aisle and Bennet, whose eyes glistened oddly in the light, formally handed Jane to Bingley and Elizabeth to Darcy. Elizabeth reached out her hands to take his, and he looked down into her beautiful face, and he fought back tears. He had never imagined that he could be so fortunate as to win the love of such a woman.
Mr. Allen, the rector, gazed down fondly at the three couples waiting for him and began to speak, “ Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together these couples in Holy Matrimony ...”