Chapter Seventeen #4
The double wedding was simple and (mostly) elegant; everyone (except Mrs. Bennet) agreed there was a surfeit of flowers.
Jane’s gown (chosen by her mother) had so many ruffles that her face was barely visible.
Elizabeth wore a simple white gown Lady Sterling had purchased for her months ago. It was perfect.
Jane cried with happiness throughout the ceremony.
Elizabeth prided herself on keeping her emotions in check.
Then it came time to say the vows. As he spoke, William’s voice was so tender, and his expression filled with so much love that Elizabeth’s eyes immediately overflowed.
At that moment, she understood what Jane meant by having so much happiness she could not bear it.
The wedding breakfast served a perfect number of guests but far too much food. Unsurprisingly, no one complained about a scarcity of flowers. However, Mr. Bennet was heard to mutter about the state of his coffers.
Many guests offered congratulatory toasts to both sets of brides and grooms. Elizabeth restrained William from offering a toast to Lady Catherine and Viscount Harwood as “the people who truly brought us together.”
No one at the wedding breakfast except Elizabeth and William themselves knew that their engagement had really lasted two days instead of three months. Nor did anyone understand when William joked that Elizabeth had proposed to him.
After the wedding, Elizabeth wondered whether they should confess the truth of their false betrothal, but William was of the opinion that it would unnecessarily confuse their family and friends.
“The falsity of our betrothal is really in the eye of the beholder, is it not? We were genuinely engaged, and I would not and could not have begged off.”
Elizabeth considered his reasoning. “Indeed. I have wondered lately who we fooled with our false betrothal. We believed we fooled everyone else by pretending to be engaged, but perhaps we fooled ourselves by believing we might end the engagement.”
William took her hand and kissed it. “Yes. The engagement was real before we realized it.”
Thus, the bride and groom never told anyone the true story about how they met, became engaged, fell in love, and got married. They did, however, enjoy confusing people with little hints, and that propensity caused them trouble later. Much later.
***
Elizabeth enjoyed a quiet winter evening with her children.
They were in the blue drawing room, the coziest and warmest of Pemberley’s public rooms. Elizabeth occupied a settee, reading a book.
Her son, George, eleven years old, sat opposite her, reading history assigned by his tutor.
Her ten-year-old daughter, Cassandra, struggled with her embroidery, which was not treating her well.
Their youngest, Marie, five years of age, was already abed in the nursery.
Cassandra threw down her embroidery in frustration.
But rather than take up a book, she stared into the flames of the fireplace, deep in thought.
She looked at her mother. “Why do you and Papa sometimes say you were engaged for three months, sometimes for two-and-a-half months, and sometimes for two days? Surely you can keep better track of time than that!”
George lowered his book, eager to hear the answer.
Elizabeth merely smiled. “It is rather complicated. Certainly, the most important thing is that we finally married.”
George set his book on a table. “Come to that, when she visited, Great Aunt Catherine said you and Papa were engaged for two years!”
“Two years!” Cassandra gasped.
William appeared under the lintel, observing the family scene. But he said nothing.
Elizabeth laughed. She had forgotten the story about how she and William had met at the Harrisons’ ball and started a covert correspondence that led to a secret understanding.
“Aunt Catherine can continue believing that,” she said to her children, doing nothing to clarify the mystery for them.
Leaning against the doorframe, William’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
“I want to know!” Cassandra jumped up and stamped her foot on the floor, proving she was a little too much like her mother.
Elizabeth took her daughter’s hand. “Yes, dearest, I like knowing things too. But some things are private.” She glanced at her husband who nodded. “When you are older, Papa and I will explain it to both of you.”
Cassandra was only partially mollified. She returned to her chair muttering, “Everything must wait until I am older!”
“That is a frustrating part of childhood,” Elizabeth said to her. “Would you like to sit with me and work on your Greek verbs?”
Cassandra pouted, but she really did enjoy her Greek. “Very well.” She skipped to the settee as Elizabeth opened the grammar book.
Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged a relieved look. Crisis averted for now. But they would eventually have to tell the whole story. Their children were simply too curious.
William was turning to leave when George spoke up. “What I want to know is when you and Papa celebrate your wedding anniversary in the private dining room, why do you always toast Great Aunt Catherine and someone named Viscount Harwood?”
William turned on his heel and raised a brow at his wife. Now what would they say?
The End