Chapter 30 #3
Lady Anne had nothing to say. She simply put her hand briefly over her mouth. One tear fell down her cheek. “Well,” she managed at last. “Is that not marvellous news?” Then she crossed the room and gathered Elizabeth into an embrace that smelled of orange blossom and bergamot.
It was Uncle Gardiner who recovered first, by taking the bottle of Madeira the footman brought for him and setting it before her aunt.
“Since November,” Aunt Gardiner informed the room, entirely at her ease, “Mr. Gardiner and I have kept a small wager upon the date of this happy event. I took Easter or before. He took Midsummer, on the grounds that our Lizzy is contrary and would keep the poor man waiting on principle.”
“We did not know who the groom would be, mind you,” Uncle Gardiner said. “But we are rather pleased with her choice.”
“As am I,” Elizabeth said.
“You left it very late, Mr. Darcy,” her aunt said. “But you carried the day in the end.”
Mr. Darcy’s cheeks flushed.
Miss Darcy, who had spoken very little all afternoon, came to stand at Elizabeth’s elbow. She looked at her hands, then made herself look up. “You are to be my sister,” she said, “so you must call me Georgiana now. I have wished for it a long while, only I did not like to presume.”
“Georgiana,” Elizabeth said, and the name came easily. “And you must call me Elizabeth. Or Lizzy, if you wish.”
Georgiana went pinker than her brother but did not look away this time.
Lady Anne set down her glass. “You will wish to marry from Longbourn, of course.”
Elizabeth looked at Mr. Darcy. “I had assumed so.”
“So had I,” he said.
“Excellent.” Lady Anne turned to Jane. “And you?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Where and when do you mean to marry your Mr. Aldridge?”
Jane glanced at him. Mr. Aldridge, who had faced the announcement of one engagement with perfect composure, appeared less prepared to discuss his own.
“I had always thought to be married from Longbourn, though I confess I have not yet spoken with Mr. Aldridge about it,” Jane said.
“You have been engaged longer than we have,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“It has not even been two days,” Jane said with a laugh.
“We may marry from wherever you wish, my dear,” Mr. Aldridge told Jane. “By the time the banns are called, my mother will have been able to travel to us.”
“Speaking of mothers, Jane, Elizabeth,” Uncle Gardiner said, “your mother has been waiting twenty-two years to arrange a wedding.”
“Two weddings,” Aunt Gardiner said thoughtfully.
Silence fell around the table. Elizabeth looked at Jane, and Jane looked back.
“I wonder,” Jane said slowly, “whether there is any reason we could not marry together.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. “You mean—”
“A double wedding,” Jane said. “If you would like it.”
For a moment Elizabeth could only smile.
The thought had never occurred to her, yet now that Jane had spoken it aloud, she could not imagine why she had not considered it before.
She and Jane had shared a nursery, a childhood, their confidences, most of their troubles, and now, their happiness. Why should they not share this as well?
“I should like it very much,” Elizabeth said. “Would you?”
Jane took her hand. “More than I can say.”
Elizabeth looked to Mr. Darcy. “And you?”
“Elizabeth,” he said, with complete seriousness, “I care very little whether the ceremony is performed alone or in the company of half of Hertfordshire. Only promise me you will arrive at the proper hour and say ‘I will.’”
“How lovely,” she said to him, amused, “that you are so easily pleased.”
Lady Anne took a sip of her Madeira. “This is a wonderful plan. Otherwise, you will have two wedding breakfasts, two sets of flowers, and twice the opportunity for Mrs. Bennet to change her mind about . . . everything.”
Elizabeth slowly turned to Mr. Darcy. “You have been telling your mother about mine.”
He lifted his shoulders in a shrug, and his thumb moved over her knuckles beneath the table.
Jane leaned closer to her. “Mamma will faint.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said. “But she will begin ordering lace before she reaches the floor.”
“She will insist upon pink.”
“For you.”
“For both of us.”
Uncle Gardiner raised his glass. “Then it is settled. A double wedding at Longbourn. That is, provided the brides agree, the bridegrooms survive, and my sister does not attempt to invite everyone in Hertfordshire, for the church will not hold so many.”
“To the brides,” said Aunt Gardiner.
“To the bridegrooms,” Lady Anne added.
Jane lifted her glass. “To Easter.”
Mr. Aldridge touched his glass to hers.
Around the table, the planning was beginning.
Uncle Gardiner was calculating the journey with four small children.
Lady Anne was offering advice on the wedding, thrilled to be included and her talents put to use.
Mamma, once informed, would doubtless be ecstatic about Lady Anne’s help and then claim the whole affair as her own triumph.
Mr. Darcy’s knee rested against Elizabeth’s beneath the table.
Between her mother and his, they had been presented as marriage prospects for a great many people, but never one another.
He had chosen her anyway.
Elizabeth raised her glass to his and said, very quietly. “To the match no one arranged.”