Chapter Sixty-Eight
Jane consumed a small breakfast on the morning of the wedding, but Elizabeth could eat nothing. Mrs. Bennet tried to coax her with buttered toast and jam, but she shook her head.
“You will be sorry if you pass out from hunger,” Mrs. Bennet warned, but to no avail. “Tea, at least,” she insisted, and she managed to get a cup of tea with a good deal of sugar into her second daughter.
“Are you nervous, Lizzy?” Lydia asked.
“Not nervous, exactly.”
“What, then?”
“Just…a bit jumpy, I suppose.”
“So, nervous,” Lydia insisted.
Elizabeth had to laugh at that. “Very well, then; yes, I am nervous. All of Meryton will be watching, not to mention…”
“Not to mention the Earl and the Countess.”
“Right. It will not make a good impression if I trip and fall flat on my face.”
“Papa will hold you up, Lizzy,” Jane promised. “You have nothing to fear.”
***
When the two girls finally walked downstairs, arm in arm, Mr. Bennet sucked in his breath.
Had he ever before appreciated how beautiful his two girls were?
Jane was in blue, her favourite colour, the hem and neckline beautifully embroidered with pink roses.
Lizzy was in green, her favourite colour, the bosom and the sleeves decorated with silver leaves.
Both wore crowns of flowers, which the Gardiners had brought from London.
“I have no words to tell you both how lovely you are,” he told them.
He offered each of them an arm and escorted them to the waiting carriage.
This was the day he had long dreaded – he was losing his Lizzy!
He felt himself grow teary-eyed, but he refused to disgrace himself by wiping his eyes, so he stared out of the carriage until he regained control of himself.
The church was decorated with a good deal of greenery, and the pews were filled with friends, all smiling at the Bennet family’s good fortune.
The Matlocks sat in the front pew with Miss Bingley, Mrs. Hurst and Mrs. Bennet.
The Bennet daughters sat in the second pew, Georgiana with them.
Mr. Hurst and Colonel Fitzwilliam stood beside the two grooms.
When the two brides and their father arrived at the front door of the church, the entire congregation turned around to get a good look.
Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, who had been engaged in a brief bout of bachelor banter, looked up in time to see their brides, outlined in the pale winter sun, standing in the doorway.
Mr. Bingley smiled widely, though his hands shook.
But Mr. Darcy had a moment of revelation.
What a bold step this was for any woman to take!
To marry a man one scarcely knew, to put oneself, body and soul, into that man’s keeping!
The bravery of it, the hope and daring of it, held him stock-still, his breath caught in his throat.
Who dared say that women were less brave than men?
He recalled one of his earliest conversations with Elizabeth, when she urged him to respect his wife.
What had she said? Something like - when you do marry, I hope that you will treat your wife as a partner, not as property.
Yes, that was it. He made a solemn vow to himself, one as solemn as the one he was about to make to Elizabeth before the parson, that he would always treat his wife with kindness and respect.
***
The ceremony passed in a daze to those involved in it, less quickly to those watching.
Mr. Bennet, having delivered his daughters to their grooms, retreated to the front pew to sit with his wife.
She had her handkerchief at the ready, and more than once, Mr. Bennet wished it would not be considered unmanly were he to pull out his own.
As noisy as Longbourn had always been, as often as he had complained of five being far too many daughters, the idea of inhabiting Longbourn without Jane and Lizzy was incomprehensible.
Mrs. Bennet was evidently unaware of his feelings, as she sat, smiling at her triumph, her handkerchief completely unnecessary.
But Mary, much to Mr. Bennet’s surprise, rose from her seat in the second pew and made her way to her father’s side.
It was a bit of a crush, which had Mrs. Bennet muttering, “Oof, Mary, must you?”
But once in place, Mary took her father’s hand and squeezed it, murmuring, “It will be all right, Papa; you will see. Do not be sad.”
Mr. Bennet turned to look at his middle daughter. “Thank you, Mary.” He had often thought that he did not value this daughter as much as she deserved, and he never felt it more deeply than at this moment.
***
The wedding breakfast was, by Meryton standards, sumptuous. Doubtless, the Earl and Countess had seen a good deal better, but Mrs. Bennet was happy enough knowing that she had impressed her neighbours.
Mr. Darcy was able to pull the new Mrs. Darcy aside for a moment. “Richard hopes that you will invite Mary to Darcy House.”
“Richard? Mary?” Elizabeth was astonished.
“Evidently, yes; though he wants this to be your idea. She would keep Georgiana company, you know, play on the piano with her and what-not.”
“Mary would need clothes,” Elizabeth said, still trying to take in the idea of her middle sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam, son of the Earl and Countess of Matlock. Then she recalled the gifts the Colonel had sent to Mary, and comprehension dawned.
Mr. Darcy replied, “That is not a problem; my aunt will help. I know Miss Mary will need some time to prepare herself; I will send a carriage for her in two days.”
Elizabeth smiled, dazzlingly, and kissed her new husband on the cheek in front of the entire company. Then she went in search of her mother.
“You want Mary to come to London?”
“Yes; it would be good for Georgiana, as they have become great friends and enjoy playing the pianoforte together. And William –“ how she loved the sound of his name! – “will see to it that she has an adequate wardrobe.”
“Of course I have no objections! How could I? What a wonderful opportunity for her! Though it would be better if it were Lydia, you know, Lizzy, as she is far prettier than Mary and would be likely to find a husband in London.”
“But Lydia does not play the pianoforte, Mama, which is rather the point.” And with that, Elizabeth stood on tiptoe to try to spot Mary. Ah, there she was, talking with the Colonel! Elizabeth had to smile at that.
“Mary, there you are.”
“Lizzy! You were a lovely bride; was she not, Colonel?”
“She was, yes.”
“Well, you have to say that, do you not, Colonel? No, no, I am just teasing you. Mary, would you like to come to London and stay with us at Darcy House?” Elizabeth could not resist throwing a teasing glance at the Colonel, who reddened.
“Me? In London?” Mary’s voice rose to a squeak.
“Yes; you would be such good company for Georgiana and for myself, as well.”
“I would love to, of course. But you know I do not have clothes –“
“It is no matter; you and I will shop together.”
“With my mother, I do not doubt,” the Colonel added, wryly.
“Yes, with the Countess. William says he will send a carriage for you in two days’ time; that will give you plenty of time to pack up your music and whatever else you might need.
But do not bring a good deal of clothing, remember.
Just enough for a week or so; after that, our new clothing should arrive. ”
The Colonel was delighted; Mary would be in London, and he would be able to spend time with her, get to know her better, and see if she might be persuaded to become fond of a battle-weary Colonel who was more than ready to embrace civilian life.
***
There were a good many hugs, tears and promises of reunions when Jane and Elizabeth prepared to leave Longbourn for their new lives.
It was the way of the world, of course; ladies were expected to leave their own families and join those of their husbands, but it was nonetheless painful for everyone involved.
Lydia and Kitty refused to let Georgiana leave; it was only when promises of a good many letters and visits to Pemberley were issued that they were willing to let her, the “sixth Bennet daughter,” as she was now called, depart.