Font Size
Line Height

Page 29 of A Most Unfortunate Gentleman

Mr. Bingley proposed two days after Mr. Darcy.

It was a development met with quiet delight by all who wished the Bennet family well—and with fervent speculation by those who did not.

With Mr. Bennet’s approval secured and Mrs. Bennet’s nerves properly settled, the two sisters were married in a joint ceremony a week before Christmas.

The event was handsomely attended and even more discussed. That the two eldest Bennet girls had managed to secure the admiration of such men as Darcy and Bingley became the subject of much murmured conjecture.

The Gardiners and the Phillips attended the wedding party, as did all of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet’s remaining relations, though none looked so satisfied as the father of the brides himself, who bore the entire spectacle with an expression that hovered between amusement and disbelief.

Mr. Collins made an appearance, though not an enthusiastic one. His countenance bore the resignation of a man forced to witness a scene he would much rather censure. That he had, within days of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, secured an engagement to Miss Charlotte Lucas did not go unnoticed.

Mr. Collins, in no measured terms, declared that he could not, in good conscience, offer his hand to any of Elizabeth’s sisters, now that it appeared she had enticed Mr. Darcy—who was, as he reminded them all, long intended for Miss de Bourgh, the daughter of his most esteemed benefactress.

To ally himself with the family of the lady who had, in his view, stolen Mr. Darcy from his rightful match would be, he said, a betrayal of both duty and gratitude.

Mary, when this particular subject arose, announced without hesitation—indeed, with a fervour bordering on pride—that she would have refused Mr. Collins herself, had the opportunity been given.

Elizabeth found this pronouncement refreshing.

Charlotte, however, maintained her decision to accept Mr. Collins' proposal with composure.

She insisted that she had chosen security over sentiment and had no wish to remain dependent on the hope of finding love.

In time, Elizabeth ceased to pity her and learned instead to admire the strength of a woman who had selected certainty in a world that offered women so little.

Mr. Darcy’s family were present at the wedding.

Those around included the Earl and Countess of Matlock, who surveyed the proceedings with silent appraisal.

Lady Catherine de Bourgh, to the relief of all concerned, absented herself.

A letter arrived in her hand shortly after the wedding, addressed to Darcy in terms Elizabeth could only describe as volcanic.

Anne de Bourgh, by contrast, sent a gentle note of congratulations, expressing regret that her attendance had been forbidden.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst took their seats at the wedding with expressions fixed as firmly as their coiffures.

Though they offered no protest aloud, their countenances bore all the eloquence of silent disapproval.

Jane later revealed that their brother had received no encouragement from either woman toward their conjugation—but had chosen to ignore them entirely.

Mr. Wickham’s fortunes turned on the edge of scandal a week after Darcy’s return to Hertfordshire.

He was apprehended on the outskirts of Meryton, just as he attempted to elope with Miss King.

It was later discovered that her recently acquired dowry of ten thousand pounds had piqued his interest. Colonel Forster, unwilling to tolerate such a scheme under his command, had Wickham stripped of his commission and escorted from the regiment.

Elizabeth could not help but feel relieved at the timely intervention, though she attributed the narrow escape more to fortune than foresight.

She shuddered to think what might have happened had he instead set his sights upon Lydia.

In such a case, she doubted her sister would have resisted the allure, and the consequences would have been irreparable.

Mr. Lumley did attend the Bennet girls’ wedding. When news of Elizabeth’s engagement reached him, he conveyed his congratulations with quiet sincerity. Though he spoke little when Elizabeth expressed the hope that he had not taken offence, he assured her none was felt.

A week later, he proposed to Mrs. Pritchard. Their marriage took place a month afterwards. It was a modest but cheerful affair, and by all accounts, the couple settled into married life with every appearance of mutual satisfaction.

To general surprise, Mr. Elliot, the librarian, proposed to Mary a year later. Elizabeth was at first astonished, but upon reflection, not disapproving. He shared Mary’s fondness for moral instruction and long sermons, and they were soon wed in a quiet ceremony at Longbourn.

After the Bennet girls’ wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy moved to Pemberley.

Within a week, Darcy’s string of misfortunes appeared to come to an end.

Elizabeth suspected the few unfortunate incidents that occurred after their marriage had less to do with fate and more to do with her husband’s habit of anticipating disaster at every turn.

They spoke of his “ill-luck” now only in jest.

Georgiana, whose fondness for Elizabeth deepened by the day, remained with them at Pemberley until her wedding in 1816.

She and Elizabeth became fast friends, their days filled with books, music, and long walks.

Elizabeth had not expected to find a sister in her husband’s household, yet found she could not do without her.

On St. Stephen's Day, 1811, Darcy took Elizabeth to London.

They visited the same fair where he had encountered the fortune teller who foretold the change in his luck.

Together, they wandered through the bustling crowds, passing stalls of sweetmeats and lively puppet shows, but found no trace of the old woman.

“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said with a smile, “our fate has no need of further telling.”

Darcy drew her gently into his embrace and pressed a tender kiss upon her lips. “Perhaps,” he whispered, “because it is already fulfilled.”

And so it was.

THE END