Epilogue
“There’s nothing like a simple, modest wedding to make you appreciate the value of love and family, is there?” remarked Mr Bennet over the top of his silver-rimmed spectacles as they filed out of the church, his voice entirely serious but his eyes twinkling.
“Simple wedding?” exclaimed Mrs Bennet, as though it were a personal insult to her, never mind the families of the marrying couple.
“There is nothing simple about Grantchester Abbey. Look at the estate, Mr Bennet! The church alone is the size of a small cathedral, and there must be two hundred guests, and more coming for the wedding breakfast. There’s another fifty carriages down there on the road already. ”
“Dear me, how right you are, my dear,” her husband chuckled. “It does seem very much a grand occasion, now you come to mention it. How did I miss that?”
Sensing that she was being teased, Mrs Bennet glared at him briefly, fastened her coat against the December chill, and then turned her attention to the other guests assembling outside the church, all waiting eagerly for the bride and groom to emerge.
“Can we really not throw rose petals and rice?” Kitty asked plaintively. “I have so much left over from the other weddings.”
“The Countess of Grantchester doesn’t want any mess on her wedding dress,” Elizabeth reminded Lydia and Kitty of the bride’s instructions. “Caroline was very clear about that. She did not seem impressed by the state of my figured muslin, or my hair, when Darcy and I were wed, did she?”
As Mary began to lecture on the difficulty of removing stains from pale-coloured and delicate fabrics, Elizabeth turned to her husband with a smile, remembering the happy day three months ago when they had married in Longbourn’s parish church, before departing for their new life at Pemberley.
Jane and Charles Bingley had beaten them to the altar by a week.
“I thought you looked very pretty with rose petals and rice in your hair, Elizabeth,” Georgiana Darcy remarked with a smile. “So did my brother.”
In confirmation of his sister’s words, Mr Darcy dropped a kiss on the chestnut curls of his wife beside him, his eyes dancing with almost as much merriment as the youngest Bennets.
“On the other hand, Lydia and Kitty, Lord Grantchester was also clear that you are free to shower him in rice and petals from head to foot,” he told them.
“Lord Keeble doesn’t mind if you hit him too, for he will be coming out with Grantchester’s sisters and the other bridesmaids. ”
“Lord Keeble!” squealed Lydia. “Oh, yes, let’s throw rice and rose petals at Lord Keeble! How he will laugh.”
The two youngest Bennets rushed away together to find a prime spot to stand, scarves and cloaks flying over their new dresses.
“Are you quite sure about that?” Elizabeth questioned him, laughing, and Darcy nodded.
“Quite sure. Grantchester and Keeble both told me so when Caroline Bingley was fussing over it. I only hope the other guests respect her wishes too, or we shall have some fun when we get back to Grantchester Abbey.”
Mr and Mrs Bingley came to stand beside the Darcys, bringing with them a tall and stately but kind-eyed woman with Lord Grantchester’s handsome smile.
“Lady Grantchester,” Mrs Bennet greeted the dowager countess with deep awe and as low a curtsy as she could manage. “What a wonderful service.”
“Yes, it was,” the mother of the groom beamed. “I have feared I would never see this day…Well, now my son is married and there is a new Lady Grantchester. Oh, doesn’t she look splendid! What a perfect bride! Caroline will be in all the society papers next week, I know it.”
The bride and groom had reached the doors of the church and were even then emerging into the winter sunlight.
Caroline Tellington, Countess of Grantchester, was indeed splendid in her wedding gown of cream silk, gold embroidery and French lace, her blonde hair held back with a diamond-studded tiara.
At her side, John Tellington, Earl of Grantchester, was as handsome and well-dressed as a story-book prince.
“What a beautiful dress,” Mrs Bennet wept, wiping her eyes with a handkerchief. “Oh, that tiara!”
Elizabeth swallowed her laughter, catching Jane’s eye and grinning.
They both knew that their mother was still mourning the idea that it should have been Jane emerging from the abbey’s ancient church as Countess of Grantchester that morning, resplendent in silk, gold, and diamonds.
Jane’s happy marriage to Charles Bingley was celebrated and appreciated, but being Mrs Bingley was not the same as being a countess.
Amidst cheers and handfuls of rice and rose petals, the bride and groom made their way to the open carriage, decorated with winter boughs and berries, its seats covered with warm furs for the journey back to Grantchester Abbey.
Lord Grantchester laughed heartily as he was showered by the well-wishers, and his new wife glared and brushed her dress each time any of them hit her.
As the best man and bridesmaids emerged too, Lydia and Kitty threw their rice and rose petals with extra vigour and giggles.
To the further entertainment of the crowd and of Lord Grantchester, now in the carriage, Lord Keeble took a packet from his own pocket and threw the same back at Lydia, Kitty, and other merry young ladies in the crowd.
Then the carriage pulled away, and the guests began to disperse to their own vehicles. Even above the happy hubbub of the crowd, the Dowager Countess of Grantchester could be heard enthusing loudly about her son’s bride and her joy in the wedding day.
“I don’t believe Grantchester’s mother would have cared who he married as long as they had a wedding on this scale,” Darcy mused, laughing under his breath, as he slipped an arm about Elizabeth’s waist and strolled with her towards his coach.
“It was amusing how what was meant to be a quick emergency wedding to save Caroline from ruin turned into three full months of planning by the dowager countess and one of the society events of the Christmas season,” Elizabeth remarked with a raised eyebrow.
“I suppose you have to be an earl or a countess to pull that off.”
“As Lord Keeble observed, you only get married once, so you might as well do it properly,” Darcy quoted.
“Thankfully, society is far too attached to Grantchester and Keeble to savage Caroline once the engagement was public. Wickham has been forgotten now, but it could have turned very nasty. The three of them have been lucky to get away with…everything.”
“They have,” Elizabeth agreed, “and I do think Caroline Bingley may be the perfect actress in this particular play. She will enjoy all the performance of being a great lady, dressing the part and giving hospitality, without the obligation of ever loving her husband.”
“Are you saying that loving one’s husband is an obligation?” Darcy inquired with mock offence, and Elizabeth laid her head against his shoulder.
“Not to me,” she said fondly, “but we are the lucky ones. We didn’t need a wedding on this scale to prove anything, smooth our path in society, or curry favour with anyone.
Nor did Jane and Charles, come to that. They didn’t even buy a new wedding dress or have more than a modest wedding breakfast. It tickled Father no end. ”
“Tell all this to your mother,” Darcy whispered again as the bickering Mr and Mrs Bennet came into earshot once again.
“Yes, we must make ourselves agreeable to Lady Grantchester and the dowager countess too, Mr Bennet,” Mrs Bennet was scolding her husband.
“I do not care if they get on your nerves. My own nerves have been jangling for years with all I have to put up with. We must do our best to throw our unmarried girls into the paths of rich men.”
“Good Lord, Mrs Bennet, are Bingley and Darcy not rich enough for you, eh? What will satisfy your monstrous matrimonial ambitions? A prince of the realm each for Lydia, Kitty and Mary? Or one between them, maybe. Either way, I fear you are bound to be very disappointed in the end.”
“What on earth are you talking about now, Mr Bennet? You will never stick to the point!”
Elizabeth and Darcy had to stifle their laughter until her parents had passed out of range.
“We will never be like that, will we?” Elizabeth asked her husband laughingly. “Chalk and cheese, and never a moment of mutual understanding.”
Now beside their carriage. Darcy shook his head and stroked his wife’s upturned face.
“Never,” he told her. “Of all the marriages I have seen, both recent and of long standing, ours is easily the most favourable match.”
And after sealing the promise with a tender kiss, Darcy helped Elizabeth into their carriage and closed the door behind them.
THE END