Page 38

Billiard Room

Netherfield Hall

The green felt of the billiard table was the brightest spot of color in the room while dark mahoganies, siennas, and walnuts dominated the rest of the furnishings. Brandy glowed a warm gold, the firelight flickering through cut crystal glasses. The room was quiet, no conversation between the two figures in the room, the one leaning against the window frame and the other seated in the leather armchair drawn up before the fireplace.

Darcy let his glass of brandy dangle negligently from his hand as he lounged in the comfortable cushions of his seat. Bingley stared pensively out at the stars and moon-silvered sward surrounding the house, while Darcy observed the painting above the mantel. He did not recognize the artist's style, but let his eyes roam across the muted colors. A bowl of fruit sat on a modest brown surface, a single flower draped artfully over an orange, while a pheasant with its feet upcurled in the foreground awaiting plucking .

A sound at the door startled him, and he and Bingley both turned as Richard Fitzwilliam let himself in, bringing with him a flash of cheerful scarlet and a whiff of the stable.

“Richard!” Darcy exclaimed, rising to his feet. “Welcome! I was worried that you would not make it in time for the wedding!”

“I had intended to be here yesterday but had some military business, which took longer than I expected. But I am here now, and I am eagerly looking forward to the ceremony tomorrow.”

“Would you care for some brandy, Colonel?” Bingley asked from his position by the window. “It is a cold night, and I gather that you rode here on horseback?”

“I did. It is cold, and I would love some brandy,” Richard said and waited until his host poured him a glass before wandering over to sit down by the fire.

“So,” he said, taking a sip of potent liquid, “are you both ready for tomorrow?”

Darcy blinked and looked at Bingley, who appeared startled.

“Ready to be married?” the younger man asked. “Yes? No? Maybe? ”

“A cogent answer,” the colonel said with a chuckle and then turned his attention on Darcy. “How about you, Cousin?”

“I am ready, yes. These last days have seemed as long as weeks as I have waited to be married to Elizabeth.”

The colonel turned back to Bingley. “I confess to some surprise that you are more nervous that Darcy.”

Bingley blew out a breath. “I am not nervous about marrying Jane. I love her with all my heart. I do worry that, well, she is such a marvelous person, and I want to be a perfect husband, but I have never been married before, after all. What if I make Jane unhappy? What if we are not compatible? I long for a joyful wife and a peaceful home, but…”

“There are no perfect husbands,” Richard interrupted, “nor are there perfect wives. I am confident you and Miss Bennet are well suited, but there will doubtless be the occasional disagreement. I am convinced that is a part of married life.”

“Says the man who has never been married,” Darcy said dryly.

“True, but I have been the observer of many marriages, some flourishing, some less so. My parents’ marriage has been a blessed success, but the earl and countess still have their occasional disagreements. ”

“As did my parents,” Darcy mused, “and yet, they were content together.”

Bingley sighed and said, “You are correct, of course. I will not do everything right, but Jane is such a kind creature that I am certain she will forgive me. But come, there is no reason to continue babbling about my fears and hopes. Colonel, have you heard whether Lord and Lady Matlock will be attending the wedding?”

“I received notes from my mother and father only a few hours ago. My mother will be driving from London in the morning to attend the wedding, but my father is still at Milton Wray dealing with Lady Catherine, and thus he will not be present. He sends his regrets.”

“It is kind of Lady Matlock to make the journey,” Darcy remarked. “I know it is not very convenient, but her presence will make it obvious to all that the Matlocks approve of my marriage to Elizabeth.”

“Precisely,” Richard said and turned to Bingley. “What of you? Are your sisters here at Netherfield?”

Bingley grimaced and said, “They are not, and I did not invite them, as Caroline is guilty of gossiping about Elizabeth and Darcy, and Louisa always supports Caroline. My sisters and brother-in-law left London for Scarborough some days ago, and I am not certain when I will see them again. ”

Richard turned curious eyes on Darcy, who explained, “Your mother visited Miss Bingley, who confessed to being the source of the gossip regarding Elizabeth in London. Lady Matlock threatened Miss Bingley with social ruin if she appeared in society, and it seems that her threat was sufficient to send Bingley’s sisters north post haste.”

“That was surprisingly wise of Miss Bingley,” Richard remarked, “but then my mother is a force to be reckoned with. But tell me about the situation here in Meryton. Is there gossip about you and Elizabeth, Darcy?”

Darcy took another sip of brandy and shook his head. “The latest gossip in Meryton surrounds George Wickham, who deserted his militia regiment, leaving countless debts and one shopkeeper’s daughter pregnant with his child. The local gentry are much less trusting of the officers now, which is an excellent thing.”

“Indeed,” Richard replied, just as the clock chimed midnight. “I think you gentlemen should retire to bed. You ought not to be exhausted on the most important day of your life.”

Darcy, while not nervous, was excited, and he thought it likely he would lie awake for hours, but perhaps not. In any case, it would be a mercy for Bingley to tuck himself into bed instead of staring anxiously out the window at the moon .

“Richard is right,” he said, rising to his feet. “Come along, Bingley.

***

Church

Meryton

9 th January, 1812

“How beautiful you both look!” Kitty exclaimed, tucking her lace shawl tighter around her own shoulders.

“Entirely beautiful,” Mr. Bennet agreed, eyes over-bright as he looked back and forth between his two eldest daughters.

Elizabeth smiled over at Jane, who was holding very still as Mary repinned a stray curl for her. Jane was breathtaking in a soft periwinkle gown with a white lace overdress, her hair pinned up with pearls, with more dangling from her ears and clasped around her throat.

The stone vestibule of the old church was cold at this time of year, Elizabeth well knew, and her own gold crepe dress was designed for beauty more than warmth. But her joy and excitement had lit a fire within her so potent that no chill in the air could touch her. She adjusted her grip on her bouquet of greenery and stepped up to take her father's arm, with Kitty taking up position directly behind her, and Mary stepping around to stand behind Jane.

There was a breathless moment as the five Bennets stood waiting and listening. Then, beyond the heavy oak doors, the first notes from the organ swelled, and the doors swung open to the inside, hiding the servants who had opened them. Elizabeth took a deep breath as she and Jane and their father started down the aisle at a stately walk, Kitty and Mary pacing demurely a step behind.

Mrs. Bennet had lamented that they had not been able to order hothouse flowers to arrive in time for the ceremony, so they had been forced to merely festoon the ends of the first few pews with ribbons. Elizabeth smiled now to see those pews and those who sat within them. Georgiana smiled brilliantly, and Mrs. Annesley more composedly. Lady Matlock looked approving and Anne de Bourgh joyous, while Mrs. Jenkinson watched with a smile. Mr. Collins, seated beside his fiancée, looked nervous, but Charlotte's face showed only uncomplicated joy for her friend. Maria was visibly excited and Lady Lucas smiled maternally.

Mrs. Bennet, on the other side of the aisle, wept noisily into her handkerchief, and Lydia grinned at her elder sisters. Mrs. Phillips patted her sister's back, while Mr. Phillips puffed and beamed and looked thrilled. Elizabeth's eyes skimmed over the handful of other friends and neighbors who had been invited to the ceremony, before her attention turned to her beloved Fitzwilliam at the head of the sanctuary, who was standing next to an obviously nervous Charles Bingley.

There Darcy stood, gloriously illuminated by the stained glass window, tall and handsome and waiting for her. Elizabeth's heart thrilled at the sight of her bridegroom, and she answered his bright smile with one of her own.

She scarcely noticed as Mr. Bennet carefully transferred Jane's hand from his own arm to Charles Bingley's, focused as she was on her soon-to-be-husband. Then his strong arm was under her gloved hand, and the two couples were turning to face old Mr. Allen.

“Dearly beloved,” the parson said, “We are gathered together today…”

***

On the Road to London

Late r

The newly married Elizabeth Darcy shifted a little closer to her new husband, welcoming the warmth of his body. The temperature outside the comfortable carriage was below freezing, and she watched idly as great snowflakes fell from the clouds above, with some of them striking the window panes and melting.

“It is the first snow of winter,” she murmured. “How delightful.”

“Are you fond of snow?” Fitzwilliam asked, and the deep sound of his voice made her shiver deliciously. At last, he was hers, and she was his, joined together in the sight of God and man.

“I am,” she said, turning to beam up into his face. “I like the other seasons as well, of course, but there is a special glory in winter, with the crisp air and denuded trees, and I am particularly fond of snow. Do you often get snow at Pemberley?”

“We do,” he said, “and it is sufficiently cold that the ponds generally freeze in winter. Have you ever skated, Elizabeth?”

“I have not! Is it difficult?”

“At first, yes,” Darcy replied, “but I am certain you would learn to skate with relative ease, and you would enjoy it. Georgiana and I have often skated for hours and then returned to Pemberley to hot chocolate by the fire. When there is enough snow, we have sleighs which we harness to our horses, and…”

Elizabeth scooted a little closer still, her gaze fixed on the falling flakes outside, her ears attuned to the voice of her Fitzwilliam, her new husband, as he described his estate with great affection. It was a pity, really, that they were journeying south instead of north, as Pemberley sounded like the perfect place to enjoy their new marriage. But she was a sensible woman and knew that she owed it to her new name and family to be introduced to London Society as quickly as possible. The Matlocks had been surprisingly gracious in helping them, and she would not spurn that.

She yawned, and her head drooped, and she shook it to wake herself as Darcy stopped talking.

“Go on,” she said and yawned again. “I wish to know everything I can about Pemberley.”

“We have days and weeks to talk about Pemberley,” her husband replied. “Feel free to take a nap, my darling.”

“I never take naps,” she replied truculently and yawned a third time.

He did not reply, and her head, suddenly heavy, drooped again, this time to rest on his broad chest. He tightened his grip around her body and planted a soft kiss on her bonneted head. Moments later, her eyelids shut and her breathing became steady.

Darcy forced himself to relax his body as his precious wife slumbered in his arms. The last weeks had been a whirl of excitement, some of it terrible, some of it wonderful, all of it exhausting. Even this day had been wearying, with the marriage ceremony followed by a surprisingly lavish breakfast at Longbourn. The entire community, it seemed, had attended, and Darcy could not count how many congratulations had been given to the newly married Bingleys and Darcys.

He did not pretend to be gifted at understanding the hearts of others, but the compliments and felicitation had sounded genuine enough, and he had also noted, through his own haze of happiness, that the militia officers in attendance were more subdued than usual.

They had stayed for but two hours and then departed Longbourn through a crowd of well-wishers, among whom was his precious Georgiana. His sister would also be returning to London, to Queen Street, this very day, along with Anne and the companions. Several hulking male servants were in attendance to the ladies, and they would be certain to keep Georgiana safe.

Now he had a glorious week to look forward to, with the knocker removed at Darcy House, and long, luxurious days with his beloved bride to anticipate. He had never been so happy in his life .

He was also tired, and in the soft breathing of his wife and the rhythmic movement of the carriage, he found himself drowsy, and then his lids closed and he dropped off into soft and cheerful dreams.

The carriage rolled on toward London through the softly whirling snowflakes as Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy slept peacefully.