Epilogue Chapter 3 #2
Arabella had successfully convinced her mother to allow her fashionable gauze net over her sleeves, while pink roses sprigged Susannah’s green.
Yards upon yards of lace trimmed their skirts and necklines, which were cut just a bit higher than the fashion but very appropriately for debutantes.
Neither Jane nor Elizabeth would permit their daughters to tightlace, but it did not much matter; both girls had nice trim waists and their bodices came to a delicate and modish point.
“Are you looking forward to tonight?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
The girls exchanged glances, and Arabella said, “I am nervous, but I am confident it will be enjoyable.”
Susannah reached out and took her cousin’s arm in her own. “I will be there, you know, as will your parents and mine.”
“Of course,” Arabella said and smiled bravely. “I am certain I will have a wonderful time.”
Mrs. Bennet suppressed a huff. Arabella was twenty years of age and only being launched into society now. Her own daughters had come out at fifteen, and she had told Lizzy and Jane many a time that they would regret waiting so long in bringing their daughters out.
On the other hand, the Darcys and Bingleys were rich. There was no doubt dozens of young gentlemen would be eager to marry into their families.
The door opened again, and Elizabeth Darcy entered the room.
She had aged gracefully, as could be expected of one of Mrs. Bennet’s daughters.
Despite being over forty, she was still handsome, her hair as dark as ever and her eyes sparkling just as they had in her youth.
Somehow she had managed to largely retain her figure, too, though with more matronly curves, proof of her position as the proud mother of six children.
Here too Elizabeth had demonstrated her great good sense.
Three boys and three girls ensured heirs for Pemberley and ensured connections to be made through marriage.
The Darcy girls would never know the threat of penury that had hung over the childhood of their mother and aunts.
No shade of those old fears could be found in Elizabeth’s face now, and laugh lines crinkled her eyes without detracting at all from her beauty.
Her taste had improved since her marriage, as well.
In Meryton, Elizabeth had never been all that concerned with her dresses, but now gowns and fashion occupied a very respectable portion of her mind.
It showed this afternoon in the gown Mrs. Darcy had chosen for the evening, a bright orange dress which glittered with gold lace.
Tiger’s eye gemstones caught the light, gleaming cabochons hung from Elizabeth’s ears, and a delicate brooch dangled around her slim neck.
She had refused to be subjected to one of the fanciful hairstyles that she found so tiresome, and instead had donned a magnificent turban of orange silk, pinned in place with another great gold and black brooch, while her dark curls peeked out.
Elizabeth caught her mother’s eye and smiled.
“Do the girls not look lovely, Mamma?” she asked, looking adoringly at her daughter and niece.
An odd lump settled in Mrs. Bennet’s throat, and she coughed a little before she said, “Indeed, they are both beautiful, so very beautiful. You will be the belles of the ball, my dears.”
Both blushed, and Elizabeth said, “I am certain they will be, Mamma. Now girls, it is almost time for the guests to begin arriving for the ball, so you had better come along.”
Both young ladies hurried forward to plant a kiss on their grandmamma’s cheeks and then bustled away with Elizabeth, leaving Mrs. Bennet behind.
She did not mind, not at all. She was far too tired and arthritic to dance and would far rather curl up by the fire than be part of a great crush of visitors.
***
Ballroom
Darcy House
An Hour Later
The Darcy ballroom shone like a polished diamond.
The parquet floor, even after many feet had walked and danced across it, proudly displayed the efforts of an army of maids armed with mops and polish.
The chandelier glittered like a thousand jewels lit by stars, with dozens of candles hung suspended like a miniature blazing sun, lighting the room below.
Swathes of silk draped the walls, while glorious hothouse flowers provided bursts of color on their faux Corinthian plinths.
The kaleidoscope of colors beneath was nearly dizzying, the massive skirts of the ladies’ dresses and the fine coats of the gentlemen mingled together in an ever-shifting pattern of light and color and noise.
Elizabeth sat in one of the chairs provided for the matrons to watch the dancing.
The chair to her left hand was occupied by Jane, who slowly plied her fan in the heat of the ballroom.
Both were watching the cotillion being performed, with Arabella and Susannah in the very midst of it all.
As the proud mothers had expected, neither girl had experienced the slightest difficulty in filling their dance card for the evening.
They were, after all, very wealthy, very well-connected, and very lovely.
They would not want for partners at any ball this Season.
Yet, as was perhaps to be expected, they still turned to the familiar, as currently Susannah Darcy’s gloved hand rested in that of her cousin Reginald, Jane’s eldest son.
Even at only eighteen years of age, he was already bidding fair to be a strapping young man.
He and Susannah had always gotten on well, and Elizabeth was glad that he had claimed a dance.
It allowed Susannah to relax and enjoy the dancing without worrying about entertaining a partner she did not know well, and her dark eyes were sparkling with the joy of the familiar steps.
“They appear happy together, do they not?” Jane remarked from her left.
Elizabeth turned a smiling look on her favorite sister and said, “They do. It was kind of Reggie to come tonight, given that he is not extremely fond of dancing.”
“Susannah is his favorite cousin,” Jane said simply, but those words caused Elizabeth to furrow her brow and ask, “Is she?”
“Yes,” Jane replied, and then, at her sister’s expression, chuckled and continued, “Not in a romantic way, I assure you. They have a great deal in common, that is all.”
“I adore Reggie, of course, but I do not believe he and Susannah would deal all that well together,” Elizabeth said. “So I am glad to hear that.”
“I am not arguing, but why do you think that?” Jane asked curiously.
Elizabeth leaned a little closer and lowered her voice. “Reginald takes after you and Charles in that he is gentle and compliant. Our Susannah takes after me, and I think she requires a husband who is stronger-willed. That is only my opinion, of course.”
“And a wise opinion it is,” Jane said and then smiled as their sisters, Kitty Thacker and Lydia Zimmer, hurriedly approached.
“Lizzy!” Lydia cried out. “The ball is simply wonderful. When our Margaret comes out, do you think that you and Darcy would be willing to host a ball for her and for Kitty’s eldest?”
Elizabeth grinned and said, “That is still a few years away, but yes, I think that would be agreeable. Our Claire will be ready to come out then, and perhaps Mary’s Priscilla as well, and we can have all of the cousins come out at once.”
“Oh, thank you, Lizzy!” Lydia exclaimed, and Kitty chimed in with her own thanks before exclaiming, “Oh, I see Caroline! Excuse me!”
Elizabeth watched with amusement as Kitty rushed toward the door, where Charles’s sister Caroline Thacker was standing arm in arm with her husband Peter.
Caroline’s friendship with Kitty was an odd one given that twenty years previously, the former Caroline Bingley had despised the Bennet family and had done her very best to keep Jane and Charles from marrying one another.
But marry they had, and then Elizabeth had married Darcy, and suddenly, in Caroline’s eyes, the Bennets were genuinely useful connections.
Elizabeth and Jane remained politely cool toward Caroline, and Lydia was indifferent, but Kitty and Caroline had, strangely enough, developed a genuine friendship based on a shared love of fashion and sketching.
When the pair had married brothers, Peter and Alexander Thacker, the bond had become closer.
Now both ladies were each mothers to two sons and two daughters, and they spent a great deal of time together.
Elizabeth’s eyes shifted again to the dance floor, where her sister-in-law, Lady Georgiana Neeson, was dancing across from her husband James.
She liked Lord Neeson very much, and was confident that the marriage was as much a love match as a practical one, though practical it was, since Lord Neeson, master of a large estate in Yorkshire, had been struggling financially when he married the well-dowered daughter of Pemberley fifteen years previously.
That was not, Elizabeth knew, his fault.
His father, the fifth viscount Neeson, had been a gamester, and it had fallen to his son to bring the estate of Grayhaven back into solvency.
Now Grayhaven was thriving, and the James and Georgiana were the proud parents of four strapping sons and one young daughter.
The music, and the cotillion, came to an end, and the dancers clapped before dissipating in a swirl of skirts and elegant coattails.
Not surprisingly, a great many of the dancers made their way toward the refreshment table in the far corner, where lemonade and punch awaited, along with various biscuits.
The dinner tonight would be lavish and tasty, and Elizabeth was certain all the guests would find food and drink to their liking.
She was generally rather frugal when ordering dinner, but this ball, where Susannah and Arabella were being launched into society, was a special one, and the food this evening included some extravagant dishes.
A familiar figure caught her eye, and she turned her head to observe her husband, tall and still very handsome, with silver streaks in his dark hair, entering the room from an adjacent corridor.
They had been married for decades now, but she nevertheless found her heart pounding faster at the sight of her beloved Fitzwilliam.
They were both intelligent and determined people and had naturally disagreed on occasion, but they loved and respected one another.
She was so thankful to Providence for guiding Fitzwilliam to her side that day she ran from Longbourn, and grateful to Mrs. Gregson, who had gone onto her reward ten years previously, for taking her in as a sorrowful waif escaping an unwanted marriage.
So much could have gone wrong, so very much, but by the grace of God…
Darcy’s eyes fell on her and he began walking toward her. She stood up as he approached, and asked, “Is everything all right?”
He smiled at her reassuringly and said, “Yes, all is very well. Nicholas sent an express, and I thought I ought to check to insure nothing serious had happened, but it was merely a question about a tenant problem.”
She continued frowning. “Nothing serious, presumably?”
“No, a fencing dispute, but Nicholas is young and wished to be certain he made the right decision. He did.”
“He is an intelligent young man,” Elizabeth said.
“He is,” Darcy said proudly.
“Like his father,” she said, and he smiled at her and said, “And his mother as well.”
The music started up again, this time for a waltz, and he said, “May I have this dance, my darling?”
“It would be my honor and my pleasure,” she replied, and together they made their way, arm in arm, onto the dance floor together.
The End