Chapter 21 #2
Elizabeth pulled her sister into a crushing hug. When they pulled apart, they shared a resolute look and linked arms before walking back into the party.
Elizabeth joined her father where he stood next to several of the other men discussing some sort of hunting.
She linked her arm with his and leaned her head on his shoulder, a gesture that made two of the older men smile fondly.
He excused himself and sat with her near a window where they stayed close and conversed about all manner of things silly and important for a quarter hour until Mr. Bennet said, “Shall you be well, my dear?”
She smiled wanly. “Yes, Father, I shall.” She sighed and returned her head to his shoulder. “I am very tired today, that is all. Do not worry for me.”
“It is a father’s prerogative to worry for his daughters,” he replied. “Now tell me the truth. How are you faring?”
Quietly, she said, “Some days it is very hard. I confess today has been trying. But I believe that some good rest and time to become adjusted to each other is all that is needed.”
“Truly?” he asked.
“Yes, truly. He is a good man, I think. He will be kind to me.”
“Of that I have no doubt. I could not have let you marry him if he was anything less,” said Mr. Bennet in his soft, deep voice.
“But that does not mean it will not be a difficult transition for you. I have looked at the calendar, and if all goes well with the harvest, we will come visit you in late October or early November if it suits.”
“Oh, Father! Of course it suits. It will be perfect! How long will you stay?”
He smiled at her enthusiasm. “I cannot say. It will depend on the weather and how long it will be wise to stay from home.”
“I wish you could stay for Christmas, but I know it will be difficult to travel in the colder weather.”
“We shall see. Now I believe there is a man over there desperate to steal you away but hesitant to interrupt us. Why don’t you put him out of his misery?”
He smiled and kissed her cheek and she did the same, trying not to cry when he escorted her to Mr. Darcy’s side and they said what felt like their final goodbye.
As they were leaving the party, she pulled her father tight for one last embrace and whispered in his ear, “Write to me, Father. You must promise.”
“I promise, dear girl.”
His eyes were suspiciously shiny as he stepped back and let her husband hand her into the carriage, giving up his rightful place to another. His heart was full of prayers that he had not sent off his favorite daughter to a life of misery just to save the others. God forgive me.
The party continued after the couple had departed but Mr. Bennet had no stomach for it.
He went to the library and sat near the window with a book he had read to Elizabeth as a child.
He got no further than the first few pages when he let his grief take him and shuddered as a sob tore through his body.
He let his sorrow have its head for several minutes before pulling himself together and wiping his eyes.
He stayed near the window, looking outside but seeing nothing, his mind filled with a bright-eyed little girl, her chestnut ringlets tied in a shiny blue bow, proudly showing him the flowers she had picked or the letters she had managed to write or the wobbly curtsy she was learning to master.
“My darling girl, be well. Be happy. Find your courage and learn to love him. You’ll be better for it.”
Elizabeth was tired. In fact, she was exhausted.
The last week had been nothing but travel and shopping and dinner parties and anxiety.
Now, it was all over and the truly exhausting part was to come.
She now had to live with Mr. Darcy. All the time.
In the same house with adjoining bedchambers.
She felt like she was having an attack of her mother’s nerves and had the strangest desire for smelling salts.
Why was she so upset now? Had she not made peace time and again with the idea of marrying Mr. Darcy? The idea of doing something and actually doing it are not the same thing, she thought.
Now here she was, sitting in her new room in her new house, brushing out her hair.
She was worried about so many things. Would she be a good mistress to the Darcy properties?
Would she like his family and friends and would they like her?
Would she like Pemberley? Must she be presented and if so, when?
What was wrong with her father and if she wasn’t there to watch him, who would?
Was it possible for him to sink further into whatever was plaguing him and be seriously ill before anyone noticed?
Would she ever see him again? She swallowed down a lump at the thought and tried to remind herself that nothing was certain.
He may be perfectly well and live many years more.
Her maid left at her request and she wondered if she had made the right decision there.
The most immediate concern was for her wedding night.
They arrived early in the evening and neither had wanted food.
Darcy requested a tray in their sitting room some time later, but she knew not when that would be.
When would he come? How would he behave when he did?
Stop thinking about this, Lizzy! She chided herself. You’ll know soon enough.
Darcy was a nervous wreck. He and Elizabeth had had hardly any time to talk.
First they’d been at the church, then the carriage was quick and silent, then the breakfast was bustling with family and friends, all who wanted to congratulate him and meet his new wife.
They had barely spoken two words to each other!
He’d hoped there would be time to speak about their quarrel the night before, but there wasn’t.
She had seemed reluctant to leave her family and he couldn’t blame her.
The family would be returning to the seaside soon and a few days later they would be off to The Lakes.
It would be months before she saw them again and she was facing a great many changes in the interim.
He thought she had seemed happier lately, well, except for last night, but otherwise, she had seemed quite happy to be in his company and enjoyed his kisses.
He could hardly wait to make her his. His hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides and he ran his fingers through his hair as he paced his room.
He’d never been with a maiden before. He didn’t want to frighten her and he knew he must be gentle, but he was so overwhelmed with every conceivable feeling that he was afraid he would lose control of himself and hurt her. What if it was so bad she didn’t want to do it again? What if she cried?
“Pull yourself together, man! Just be calm, be patient, be kind and gentle with her. The rest will come,” he recited the advice his uncle had given him a few days prior in what had to have been the most awkward conversation they’d ever had.
But despite its having been incredibly uncomfortable to speak of such things, he was glad for it.
His uncle had given him good advice and he meant to heed it.
“I will not rush. I will not demand. I will entice. I will lead her, surely and steadfastly, and all will be well.”
He quit talking to himself and walked through the door to the sitting room and onward to the door to her chamber. Taking a fortifying breath, he reached up and knocked.
“Come in,” he heard her say quietly.