Page 6 of Blessed Interference (Pride and Prejudice Variations #1)
Jane’s Bedchamber
Longbourn
“Marshalsea?” Elizabeth repeated in wonder. “Does that mean Wickham has debts?”
“Hundreds of pounds, apparently,” Jane said grimly. “Mr. Darcy paid them all when Wickham left Derbyshire.”
Elizabeth blew out her breath and said, “Nor can I blame Mr. Darcy for refusing to give Wickham that church living. Obviously a man who could … who could…”
“Charles tells me that Mr. Darcy paid Wickham three thousand pounds in lieu of the church living,” Jane interrupted.
Elizabeth turned disbelieving eyes on her sister. “No!”
Jane shrugged and said, “My dear Lizzy, surely it is obvious that Wickham is a villain and you cannot believe a word he ever said.”
For the second time in a few days, Elizabeth dissolved into sobs.
She had been so certain of herself in the matter of Mr. Wickham and Mr. Darcy, that the former was as near perfection as is possible in a man, and the latter a proud, rude, unpleasant, unprincipled individual.
While Mr. Darcy might be proud and rude on occasion, it was now obvious that he was an honorable man.
“I feel like such a fool,” she wept, accepting her sister’s handkerchief. “I was so upset by Mr. Darcy’s insult of my beauty at the assembly last autumn that I did not question Mr. Wickham’s claims of his character.”
“It is a lesson to us all,” Jane said kindly. “Sometimes the outer surface of a man covers up an evil heart.”
“Or a good one,” Elizabeth replied, mopping her face and managing a smile.
Her sister was to be married in two days, and it was unfair for her to be a watering pot in Jane’s presence.
“I do not suppose I will ever really like Mr. Darcy, but without a doubt, it was good of him to pay off those debts in Derbyshire on behalf of Wickham and better still that he arranged for the rogue’s banishment to Marshalsea. ”
“He is also Charles’s closest friend, and that is a good sign,” Jane pointed out. “Now, shall we go to sleep? Tomorrow will likely be a busy day.”
Elizabeth nodded and rose to her feet. “It will be exceptionally busy,” she agreed, “with packing up the rest of your things, and Mother dashing about giving orders about the wedding breakfast.”
“Some of them probably contradictory,” Jane said with a laugh. In the soft light of the candles, her eyes were glowing. “And then, in two days, I will marry the man I adore. I am so happy.”
“And I am so happy for you, dearest sister.”
***
Church
Meryton
Two Days Later
The small church of Meryton was festooned with ribbons and bits and bobs of greenery in celebration of the marriageoccurring there that day.
Bingley was standing at the front of it all, his face alight with joy and anticipation.
Darcy, much calmer, stood beside him, glancing idly at the rector behind the pulpit, bent over an open Book of Common Prayer, and then looking around at the church.
Even without flowers to brighten the decorations, it was a charming little chapel.
The day was sunny, illuminating the stained glass windows in a glorious blaze of color, with pools of light splashed over pews and floor.
Several of the front pews were filled, or nearly so.
Mrs. Bennet was in her best dress and watering it with floods of happy tears.
Her three youngest daughters sat in order of descending age, looking grave, misty-eyed, and bored and squirmy, respectively.
Across from them, the Lucases, bosom friends of the family, sat in neat rows, lacking only the eldest daughter of the house because she had married and been borne off to Kent by her new husband, Mr. Collins.
Miss Bennet's solicitor uncle, Phillips, was present, with his wife at his side, and the remaining seats were filled with the highest-ranking servants of Longbourn and Netherfield, kindly given the morning off to attend.
At long last, the organ began to play, and the door in the back of the church opened to show the bride, her father, and her bridesmaid.
The bride was radiant, of course, blissfully happy and beautiful in yellow net, with white lace at throat and arms, pearls pinning up her elegant bun, a small bouquet of white hothouse roses in one white-gloved hand.
Mr. Bennet was dressed in a dark suit and looked very proud with his eldest daughter on his arm.
However, it was Miss Elizabeth that drew Darcy's eye and stole his breath.
If her elder sister was radiant, she was magnificent.
A plain green frock with but little adornment nonetheless flattered her more than all the Queen's jewels, and her eyes were as bright as the stars in the sky with her joy.
Darcy stared, mesmerized, enchanted by her beauty.
It was only when she met his eyes as the bridal party arrived at the altar that he realized he had been staring most rudely and forgetting to breathe as well.
He took a breath, called on every ounce of his willpower, and turned towards the rector, the very picture of grave attentiveness.
Inside, Darcy's mind was all in a whirl. If anything, his memories of Miss Elizabeth did not begin to do her justice. She was beautiful, superb, and magnetic. Why did she have to be so alluring?
***
Drawing Room
Longbourn
Later
The house was full of celebratory well-wishers, from the Lucases and the Longs, to the militia officers, to Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, who had journeyed from London the previous day in order to share Jane’s joy.
Elizabeth had been tasked with pouring coffee and tea for the visitors and did not mind in the least. She was standing beside a small table in the corner of the drawing room with Jane and her new husband placed some ten feet away in the center of the room, both with heaping plates of food on the table in front of them.
Elizabeth was almost too happy to eat. Charles Bingley would be an excellent and loving husband to her elder sister, and Jane would dwell but a few miles away from Longbourn, which would allow the sisters to still spend substantial time together.
It was the happiest, wisest, and most proper end to a difficult courtship.
“Good morning, Miss Bennet.”
She looked up and found herself smiling at Mr. Darcy, who looked incredibly handsome in his black coat and breeches and his carefully tied cravat.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy,” she replied cheerfully. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”
“Coffee, please.”
She poured him a cup of coffee and handed it over. He bobbed his head in thanks, took a sip, and said, “Many congratulations to you and your family on the marriage of your elder sister to Mr. Bingley. I am confident they will be very happy together.”
Elizabeth looked over to the newly married couple, who were holding court as various visitors surged forward to congratulate them.
“They will be very happy together indeed,” she said, her cheeks flushed with pleasure. “I do not believe that a happy marriage requires both parties to have similar personalities, but in this case, Jane’s gentle kindness and Charles’s amiable disposition will result in a peaceful and joyful union.”
“I daresay that if I married a lady with my own character, our marriage would be tiresomely silent,” Darcy remarked.
She turned in surprise and peered directly into his face. There was no sarcasm in that tone, nor pride in his expression.
“It would be difficult if both parties in a marriage were reluctant to speak,” Elizabeth agreed, tilting her head in what she did not know was a thoroughly beguiling manner.
“Nor would it be helpful if both husband and wife wished to speak all the time. Both Jane and Charles are adept at making conversation, but they can also be quiet when necessary.”
“Indeed,” Darcy replied, and now there was an odd look on his face, which was similar to the expression he had worn at the church service earlier today. She wondered if he was unhappy about the Bingleys’ marriage but was too courteous to express it.
She would not ask, of course.
“If you would like some food, my mother has arranged for a vast spread in the dining room. Moreover, while we do not have pineapples, we do have delicious oranges!”
He smiled at her, and she blinked a trifle at the realization of his truly remarkable good looks. It was a pity, really, that he was so dour much of the time.
“Thank you,” he said. “I will definitely enjoy an orange and then will leave for London. I am not certain if I will have the opportunity later, so may I say, goodbye, and God bless you.”