Chapter 13
A Wedding Ball
Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth had not paid attention to any correspondence in the days following their wedding.
Expecting some reaction from Longbourn, they decided to wait until the day of the ball to open the letters they had received.
Fitzwilliam had also received several notes of congratulations following the announcement of their marriage in the paper, all forwarded from Darcy House since only a few knew the couple’s address in town.
Sitting together in their sitting room, they began looking through the accumulated letters, dividing them into piles based on their direction.
By mutual consent, they set aside the letters from Longbourn for last, choosing instead to read the letters of congratulations.
There were a number of those—mostly from friends and colleagues of Fitzwilliam, as well as some from family friends of the Darcy and Fitzwilliam families.
Lady Catherine de Bourgh, sister of Lady Anne and the Earl of Matlock, had also written her terse congratulations.
That lady was pleased to learn at least one of the nephews had finally ‘done their duty to the family and married’ and reminded him of her desire to see her daughter married to his brother.
She did offer a mild criticism of Fitzwilliam for his choice of bride since ‘surely he could have married better’ but had been pleased to learn his bride had a reasonable dowry.
This news she had obviously received from her brother, and Fitzwilliam merely rolled his eyes as he read the note to his wife.
“With luck, we will not have to encounter her very often, as she rarely leaves her estate in Kent. She attempted to convince my mother George is destined for her daughter, Anne, who is rather sickly. Anne is a nice enough girl, although my mother doubts she can provide Pemberley with an heir. My uncle has also suggested her as a potential bride for George since ‘uniting two such great estates as Pemberley and Rosings’ would surely convince the Regent to restore the marquessate. My uncle is just as determined to see that done as is George.” Fitzwilliam said to her after reading his aunt’s letter.
“I do hope to meet her at least, William, for she seems to be something of a character. Some might be offended by her letter, but I confess, I am diverted by her ‘condescension’ in writing as she phrases it,” Elizabeth laughed. “What is this about a cradle betrothal?”
Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes and groaned.
“If one were to believe her, she and my mother made an arrangement when Anne and I were born within a few years of each other. My mother has told her several times since that she desired her children to marry as they would and hoped they would marry for love. I recall a rather heated conversation not long after my father passed, where Lady Anne flatly refused to require me or my brother to marry Anne, and nothing either had said while their children were in their cradles was binding. My mother loves her as they are sisters but prefers to limit the time they are in company.”
Several school friends of Fitzwilliam’s and colleagues from the bar wrote to congratulate the couple, and several issued invitations. Elizabeth set those aside to write refusals since they would be leaving town in a few days and unavailable for the invitations.
Finally, there was no more opportunity to delay reading the letters from Longbourn. Elizabeth sighed and snuggled into her husband’s embrace before she began to read these. “We might as well get it over with, my love,” Fitzwilliam said after she continued to sit there staring at the letters.
“You are right, of course, but I cannot help but imagine the worst. These letters could contain acceptance, but more likely, they contain my mother berating me for not coming home to marry, Jane’s insincere congratulations, and my father’s mocking.
Mary’s letter will be sincere, and neither Kitty nor Lydia bothered, although they may have said something included in a letter from someone else, but neither is particularly diligent in writing.
I am not surprised at not having a letter from them. ”
“We should read Mary’s first, as you feel certain of what the letter will contain,” he suggested.
“Or we save it for last so we can wipe away the other comments from our minds,” Elizabeth countered.
“Let us begin with Mama’s, as it will no doubt be the most mortifying, and then we can read Jane’s.
I think Papa’s will be the least likely to make me blush.
Can I confess how happy I am to have persuaded you to marry me without meeting the rest of my family, as the Gardiners are my best relations? ”
“I love you, Elizabeth, and regardless of what your family may be like, it will not change that,” he told her. “Perhaps it is to our advantage the estate I have inherited is so far away from your family seat?”
She laughed as he had intended with his statement. “Yes, it is indeed a fortunate circumstance. Equally fortunate is we met in London, and you were inclined to think well of me when we met. Had you met my mother first, you may have found me merely tolerable and my family completely intolerable.”
“Dearest, you should not say such things,” he whispered, kissing her temple. “Now, let us stop speculating and read what your family says about our nuptials.”
With another sigh, Elizabeth did as he suggested and broke the seal on the letter from her mother. Its contents did not disappoint:
Elizabeth Bennet,
How dare you marry from London without your mother present!
Even worse, you did not inform me until after the event had taken place, so I did not have the chance to tell my neighbours before they learned it for themselves.
Although your father apparently was told of the event before it happened, I did not know until I received your letter, and that was on the same day the announcement appeared in the Times.
All of my neighbours already knew of the wedding and expressed surprise at my not mentioning it before now.
You mortified me before all my neighbours as I had no opportunity to speak of the event before it happened.
I cannot imagine your wedding was very fashionable, but as you married a barrister, I suppose that is quite alright.
You also denied me the opportunity to help a daughter obtain her trousseau, nor can your marriage aid your sisters in meeting wealthy men.
I suppose you considered only yourself when you planned your wedding, but I would expect little else from my most selfish daughter.
At least you will visit Longbourn, though I do not understand why you will not stay longer than a few hours.
You and your husband should stay for a sennight at least so all our neighbours might celebrate the match you have made and meet your husband.
Perhaps you are ashamed of him, or he is so ill-favoured you do not want your neighbours to meet him.
Either way, I insist you remain at Longbourn a sennight, and you should come and see us as soon as may be.
You will obey me in this, Lizzy, as I will not permit you to defy me.
Your mother,
Francine Bennet
Elizabeth finished reading the letter out loud to her husband and merely hung her head for a moment before he kissed her temple. “That was not so bad, was it?” he whispered.
She laughed at his understatement. “Perhaps not so bad, but I hope you know she is wrong in every particular. I am not ashamed of you, and you are clearly not ill-favoured,”—she blushed, as did he—“but nor do I desire to have you dragged around to meet all our neighbours in Hertfordshire so Mama might parade around her married daughter. We will not do as she demands and will remain at Longbourn long enough for you to meet my family, and then we will begin our journey north.”
“I would not mind staying longer, love, if you prefer it,” he answered.
“I do not prefer it,” Elizabeth insisted.
“Staying at Longbourn for longer than a few hours is more than I can stand at present. Mama’s demands will not persuade me.
She does not deserve such attention from us, and I do not want to start by immediately giving in to her demands.
I am married now, and by necessity, our relationship must change. I no longer owe her my loyalty.”
Before he could say more, she read Jane’s letter. As she expected, it was full of insincere congratulations. She laughed in particular at one paragraph, which she read out loud to her new husband:
I congratulate you on managing to ensnare a husband, although I imagine you will outlive him by a great deal, and I can only hope your marriage settlement provides well for your future.
You should not expect our parents to continue to support you, as you have chosen to marry away from home.
Surely such an action has made you happy, since, as usual, you have thought only of what benefits you.
I will continue to attempt to placate Mama, as she is most upset at the nature of your marriage.
Should I also congratulate you on the child to follow?
As Mama has frequently said, ‘The first child can come anytime after the marriage, all the rest take nine months.’ Do you have other news for us, my dear sister?
“Before I left for London, I would have never imagined my elder sister saying such a thing to me, but after Mary’s letter when they mocked the very idea of my having a suitor, my eyes have been more opened to her true character,” Elizabeth said quietly.
“I believe by not telling her of my intentions ahead of time, she had been more open in revealing her true feelings toward me.”