Chapter Sixteen #3
“Either you are wise, and therefore correct, or you are a fool, and my Lizzy will run circles around you.”
William nodded somberly. “I have faults enough, but I hope they are not of understanding.”
“Well, Lizzy, he says you can make him laugh—best of luck to you, my dear.” Mr. Bennet waggled his brows at her. “But there is one other concern. My cousin Collins informs me that your aunt, his noble and infallible patroness, will not look kindly on the match. What have you both to say to that?”
“It can be nothing to me,” Elizabeth said.
William grimaced. “Mr. Bennet, if the sister of Miss Elizabeth’s mother were to voice her disapproval of our marriage, what would that mean to Elizabeth, or to you?”
Mr. Bennet’s countenance betrayed exactly what he thought of most of Mrs. Phillips’ opinions. “Very well, then, though I will be most seriously displeased if I hear of your aunt causing my daughter any distress for accepting you.”
William glanced over at Elizabeth, who was already considering what she might say and how she might act if such a scenario were to arise.
As if he could read her like a book, William said, “Sir, if I am unable to prevent any unfortunate meeting between them, all of my fears would be for Lady Catherine; your daughter knows what she is about.”
“Ah—so you do deserve her,” Mr. Bennet said with a hoot of laughter. “Very well then, you may proceed to the company of Mrs. Bennet, who will be insisting on a double wedding the likes of which Hertfordshire has never beheld. You are on your own, there.”
He detained Elizabeth a few minutes longer after dismissing William.
In a wildly uncomfortable and blessedly brief exchange, Mr. Bennet sought his daughter’s reassurance that Mr. Darcy had done nothing to impose himself upon her at Netherfield in such a way that would oblige them to wed in haste.
She assured him this was not the case, omitting that it had indeed been quite the reverse, and escaped before her reddened face could betray her.
That evening at the Netherfield ball, Elizabeth hoped that her father would see the tremendous affection between both of the couples he had given his consent to that morning.
The announcement was made over supper and Jane and Elizabeth received the well wishes of all their friends and neighbors throughout the evening with as much good cheer as they received the attentions of their betrothed.
Each couple danced thrice together, their hearts brimming with all the joy of the occasion and prospects of the future.
It was just after supper when Elizabeth had a chance to speak privately with Caroline. “I believe I owe you my thanks, and a great deal of teasing, besides. I have heard all about the ventilation grate.”
Caroline’s eyes widened and she gulped a sip of wine. “Oh. That.”
“Tell me, did you eavesdrop on both proposals?”
“I confess I did—I wanted to be sure they did a fine job of wooing you as you deserve! And is the nightgown not exquisitely pretty?”
“It was appreciated, I am sure,” Elizabeth quipped. “I shall only reproach you by saying that I had thought you clever enough to come up with a different ruse for each of us, rather than using the same ploy twice.”
“But it is twice as clever as any other scheme I have ever employed,” Caroline countered.
“Though I suppose you have heard that I had not such pleasing results the first time I used the grate? Of course, I can hardly repine any of it now that I have achieved such a superior outcome. But I am sorry I did not tell you how recently I had ceased to think of Mr. Darcy.”
Elizabeth smiled and pressed Caroline’s gloved hand in her own. “It was generous of you to be so disappointed, and yet think of others.”
“My motives were perhaps a little selfish when first I began thinking of uniting you and Mr. Darcy, but I do believe you shall be the happiest couple of all my acquaintance—and Jane and Charles, of course.”
This news has shone an edifying light on much of her friend’s behavior in the month she they had met, but Elizabeth did not begrudge Caroline a whit of it. “And are you to be as happy? Have you shown the colonel any mercy yet?”
Caroline laughed. “Oh, I intend to. But I wished you and Jane to have your share of novelty in your news tonight.” And then Caroline turned as if searching the ballroom for her dear colonel.
Elizabeth found him in the crowd just as her friend did.
They both watched him across the room; he was approached by a footman who presented him with a letter, and they were not too far away to see that it was rimmed in black.
Caroline seized Elizabeth’s hand and squeezed it hard. “I think I must go and speak with him—forgive me.”
“Of course,” Elizabeth said. She recollected what William had told her in London, and as Caroline stalked away Elizabeth sought out her fiancé.
If the colonel had received the news she suspected had come, she would be with her beloved when he was needed to console his cousin.
She was to be his wife, and her place was at his side.