Chapter 63
Chapter Sixty-Three
How could Elizabeth have a grown daughter?
She had been touched when Rose had wanted her own gown to match the colour of Elizabeth’s wedding gown. Rose said she had always admired the wedding portrait that hung over the fireplace in the parlour, and, she had added, she hoped to appear as happy as Elizabeth had on her wedding day.
“It was more than appearance, my dear,” Elizabeth had said as they sat embroidering on a rainy day overlooking the grounds of Pemberley, a view which still pleased Elizabeth endlessly.
“Of course. How did you and Father know you were meant for each other?”
Elizabeth shrugged. “When first we met, he was abominable.” Rose’s head had shot up from her embroidery. “He was! But we met again and then it was clear we wanted to be together. No one else thought it was as fine an idea, but we proved them wrong.”
“How could others not see you were perfect for one another?”
“It took them time, but they did. Unlike with you. We knew you and Mr Rutledge were a match from the moment you met.”
Rose blushed, and turned her attention to her needlework.
Elizabeth thought Mr Rutledge was a good balance to their daughter.
He was free with laughter and affection, and frequently brought out the best of Rose.
It was not that Rose was unpleasant, but, like Jane, and, of course, her father, she tended towards reserve.
Elizabeth did not mind, but Rose often voiced her wish that she could have more of Agnes’s ease and confidence.
In this moment, Rose’s anxious eyes searched about the church.
The number of guests was relatively small, which pleased the bride.
Like Georgiana, she was content to sit quietly and read or play the pianoforte or embroider.
She had no need for constant entertainment and the company of others as Kitty and Lydia still did.
Elizabeth’s sisters and their husbands travelled from grand manor to great house visiting their friends, enjoying hunting parties and card games until all hours.
Neither marriage nor motherhood had tamed them.
They had sent their regrets, both being abroad and unable to attend the nuptials.
Elizabeth had not minded, knowing their antics might upset the bride.
The Rutledges had not objected to a small wedding, but had asked the young couple that a celebration ball take place in town after their honeymoon.
Rose had agreed. She did not fear a ball, but preferred intimacy in important moments.
Elizabeth knew Rose was like Darcy, who disliked showing strong emotions in front of anyone, and for both father and daughter, this wedding had provoked much emotion.