Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
Elizabeth and Darcy were married in the middle of April, alongside Jane and Mr Bingley.
The wedding was everything Elizabeth had wanted it to be, in part because her desires for the day were simple: to end it being Mrs Darcy and having as many of her loved ones as possible there to celebrate with her.
She and her new husband had immediately left to spend several weeks alone at Pemberley, and she would always think of that period as amongst the best of her life.
How her love for him had grown to dizzying heights during that time!
No doubt it was because they had been able to focus only on one another, setting aside all other considerations.
They had returned to town in May, and she had immediately begun to make arrangements for their first ball, with Lady Romsley’s generous assistance.
It was important to Elizabeth to not only take her place in her beloved husband’s social circle by holding the event, but to do so with as many of her family members present as possible.
Jane was there, of course, with her husband.
Miss Bingley and the Hursts had been invited, but only after Mr Bingley had assured Elizabeth and Darcy that they would behave in a manner the couple would find acceptable.
That meant not attempting to convince anyone that they were on intimate terms with the Darcys or any of their family, especially Lord and Lady Romsley.
Georgiana was also present, despite not yet being out; she would not dance and would return home after two or three hours.
Mr and Mrs Bennet had travelled from Hertfordshire to attend the ball at Elizabeth’s express wish.
Jane, Mr Bingley, and Mr Bennet had all promised to ensure Mrs Bennet was properly occupied and would not do anything to embarrass her or Darcy, including speaking too loudly of the excellent matches her girls had made and how it would increase the chances that her remaining daughters would also marry rich gentlemen.
Inviting Mrs Bennet was a risk, but it was one Elizabeth had wanted to take.
Mrs Bennet had apologised and apologised again for trying to force her to marry Mr Collins.
She had done it in the days leading up to the wedding and again when Elizabeth and Darcy had briefly stayed at Longbourn on their way to town in May.
She had stopped only when Elizabeth, laughing, had said, “But do you not see? I take it as a mark of your love for me and that you truly do consider me one of your daughters. Had it been Jane, Mary, Kitty, or Lydia the foolish man had set his sights on, you would have acted exactly the same.”
Mrs Bennet’s brow had furrowed. “But of course you are my daughter! I do not understand you, Lizzy, no more now than I did before you found out who your other father was.”
She always referred to Thomas Sterling as Elizabeth’s ‘other father’, unwilling or unable to even imply that Mr Bennet was not her father. To Elizabeth, uncle or father, aunt or mother, cousins or sisters, her sentiments for the Bennets were and would remain as they always had been.
It was during their time at Longbourn that spring that Elizabeth had broached the subject of Mr and Mrs Bennet attending the ball. They had been hesitant, Mr Bennet saying, “I think we ought to leave such events to those of you capable of taking pleasure in them. Let us stay quietly at home.”
His wife had looked like she wanted to disagree with him, but it was also apparent that she could not do so convincingly.
“You need not stay for the entire ball, but it would mean a great deal to me if you were there,” Elizabeth had said.
“Not only is it my first ball as Mrs Darcy, but in some ways, it is my introduction to the ton both as Mrs Darcy and as Thomas Sterling’s daughter.
Lady Romsley and my uncle Sterling would like you to attend so that they can publicly acknowledge how generous you were to give me a home and raise me as one of your own.
” Her grandfathers Sterling and Bennet had separated the families because they disapproved of the love their son and daughter shared, but over twenty years later, their descendants would correct their error and unite the two families, just as should have happened at the time.
In the end, the Bennets had accepted her invitation.
To their bitter disappointment, Kitty and Lydia were not included, everyone apart from them recognising that they were too young and undisciplined to trust in such a setting.
Mary was reluctant to attend, but Jane had convinced her to agree; she intended to keep her younger sister with her for several months and introduce her to a wider circle of people, believing it would do her good.
Standing at the head of the lines of dancers, on the brink of starting the ball by dancing with her handsome husband, Elizabeth glanced about and noticed other relations she had come to know and love since December.
The Romsleys, naturally, her aunt looking as proud as a mother upon her daughter’s entry into high society, Bramwell and Rebecca, Fitzwilliam, who was beginning the ball by partnering Miss Marian Strachan—a beautiful, lively heiress he had been spending quite a bit of time with lately—and her Sterling uncle, aunt, and cousins.
An enormous bubble of contentment and rightness rose up from Elizabeth’s toes to the top of her head, where it burst and bathed her in its warmth.
She grinned broadly and saw the look of satisfaction on Darcy’s face.
Not many ladies could claim to have had three surnames, she thought, unless they had had the misfortune of being widowed and had taken a second husband.
Darcy leant towards her and asked, “What has you smiling thus?”
“I was reflecting that I have been Elizabeth Bennet, and I value the life I lived as her. For a short period—two of them, actually, but one was when I was too young to recall—I was Elizabeth Sterling, and I quite liked her. What being her represented, I mean, that I could finally feel complete, having answered questions I had long held regarding my father. But the name I love the most is the one I now use, because being Mrs Elizabeth Darcy means I have the supreme pleasure of being your wife.”
Just then, the music started. Darcy held out a hand to her, and proudly and gratefully, she took it.