Page 44 of The Next Mrs Bennet
A s far as Elizabeth was concerned, the day of her wedding would be the worst day of her short life.
That evening Aunt Maddie had given Elizabeth the talk. While what she imparted was not quite as dire as the gleeful speech Mrs. Bennet had given where she concentrated on the pain and discomfort Elizabeth would experience, Aunt Maddie’s had been far more gentle.
Aunt Maddie had given her strategies to try and mitigate the bulk of her soon-to-be husband. Also, her aunt had not made light of the probable pain given the man Elizabeth was marrying had a selfish disdain for the feelings of others. She explained that as such, the Duke would only care about taking his own pleasure. Hence she gave Elizabeth ways to prepare herself before the man came to her which would mitigate the pain each time.
As uncomfortable a subject it was for both of them, Elizabeth understood Aunt Maddie was attempting to make an untenable situation slightly more bearable.
Once Aunt Maddie left the bedchamber, Elizabeth’s four sisters joined her. It was not lost on her that for the foreseeable future, she would not see them. It had been one of the conditions the old man had agreed to, her sisters would only be at one of their houses with her own express agreement.
Elizabeth simply did not trust the disgusting man around her sisters so she would not put them in a situation where he would have access to them. His condition to garner his agreement was she would only visit places, people, and write to those he approved of.
She hated having her freedoms restricted, but in order to protect Jane and her other sisters, Elizabeth had agreed.
“Lizzy, why are you not wearing your engagement ring?” Lydia asked when she spied it lying on the dresser.
The Duke’s man, Mr. Wickham, had delivered it yester-afternoon.
“Because I will only keep it on my finger in his company,” Elizabeth responded. “The fewer symbols I see to remind me of having to marry the despicable ancient man, the better!”
Slowly but surely Lydia had begun to understand the truth of her parents, especially her mother. The only person’s welfare she was worried about was her own. Her daughters were pawns to be pushed around the board as she saw fit.
“I will miss you so very much,” Mary stated as she hugged Elizabeth. Mary was not normally very demonstrative which made Elizabeth appreciate the gesture even more.
She returned Mary’s hug in full measure. “As I will miss you, Mary, all of you.” Elizabeth looked from sister to sister. “I do have a request of you three younger girls.”
“Ask anything of us,” Mary spoke for herself and her two younger sisters.
“Mary, forget all of the lies Mrs. Bennet told of you being plain. You are as pretty as any of us and that woman only said that because like me, you do not look like her. Kitty, you are your own person, you do not have to mimic another to warrant love and attention. What your mother tried to tell you about drawing and painting being a waste of time is a lie. Pursue it, you have talent.
“Lastly. Lyddie, you are a witty and intelligent girl. You are so much more than your looks and being lively which Mrs. Bennet would always harp on. Yes, those things are nice, as long as you know how to regulate your liveliness and do not act in an unrestrained way. A good reputation is hard to build and maintain, but can be destroyed in one unguarded moment. Further, do not forget—it would affect your sisters too. That was something your mother never understood because she was not raised as a gentleman’s daughter. If you follow her advice regarding catching men, you will end up ruining yourself. You are but ten, treasure your childhood. None of you,” Elizabeth looked at each of her younger sisters pointedly, “should be in a hurry to grow up and seek a man to marry.”
“What Lizzy has told you is nothing but the truth. Heed her words well,” Jane said in support. “Now you three go to your bedchamber, even if she does not think she does, Lizzy needs some sleep before tomorrow.”
Starting with Mary the three youngest Bennet sisters kissed Elizabeth on one of her cheeks and then departed the bedchamber.
“Oh Janey,” Elizabeth lamented once she heard the girls’ chamber door close, “If only this was a nightmare from which I could wake. I have prayed so hard it was and I would awaken in our shared bed at Longbourn and none of this had occurred.”
“I completely understand the sentiment. I wish I could wave a magic wand and it would be so, to my deep regret, it is not the case,” Jane replied sorrowfully. “If only he would have chosen me, and not you…”
“Do not dare say that!” Elizabeth remonstrated more forcefully than she meant to. “If one of us had to be sacrificed, given my refusal to be intimidated, it is better it was me.” The last was stated in a much more conciliatory tone of voice.
“Will you ever tell me why you changed your mind when he spoke to you without our pare…Mr. and Mrs. Bennet present?”
“Certainly not now, all I will commit to is to consider it one day in the future if and when this living hell is behind me.”
“Knowing how stubborn you are, I will have to be happy with that reply.” Jane hugged her sister. “You really must get some sleep, Lizzy. It will do you no good to make yourself sick.”
Elizabeth knew what Jane said was nothing but the truth. In order to protect her sisters like she had vowed to do, she needed to be hale and healthy. She reminded herself although she detested the man who had forced her to engage herself to him, she was doing it for the deepest love.
“I will attempt to sleep, Janey, I promise you,” she assured.
The two eldest Bennet sisters removed their robes and slid under the covers of the bed. It did not take long before Elizabeth heard Jane’s breathing change as she succumbed to sleep.
Elizabeth remained awake for a few more hours, many thoughts running through her mind, although she eventually allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Fanny Bennet was much discontented the morning of her wilful, disobedient daughter’s wedding.
She had been so sure the Duke would welcome her, his soon-to-be mother-in-law, into his company with an invitation to his wedding. That, Fanny was sure, would rescue her from the social purgatory she found herself in all because of that ungrateful Miss Lizzy!
Her husband had refused to do his duty and write to their daughter’s fiancé, so she had taken the task upon herself. The day after the brat left and her brother stole her other daughters, Fanny sent an express to Hertfordshire House in London.
So sure had she been of being invited to Town, she had packed all of her best gowns and any jewellery she owned in anticipation.
Soon all of those who disrespected her in the neighbourhood would be begging for her condescension. Knowing what a busy man he was, She had not been perturbed when there had been no immediate reply from the Duke.
Then yester-morning a letter had been delivered by none other than one of the Duke’s couriers! Fanny had felt the compliment keenly, right up until she opened, and read the letter.
The offending missive was lying next to her chair, so she picked it up and read it again, hoping the words on the page would change.
28 April 1806
Hertfordshire House
Berkeley Square, London
Madam:
Do not send any further letters to me at any of my houses or estates! Any more from you will be consigned to the fire without being read. This applies to your husband as well, as he was told when he wrote to me for assistance!
Until such time as my fiancée, the future Her Grace, Lady Elizabeth Chamberlain, Duchess of Hertfordshire and Marchioness of Hertford Heights, agrees, you will not be welcome in my or her company.
There is nothing I will do to assist you in order to regain your daughters from your brother.
I send you no regards and no compliments.
M Jackson, secretary to His Grace the Duke of Hertfordshire, Marquess of Hertford Heights
How was it that daughter of hers had caused the Duke to acquiesce to her demand they would never be in company together again? On reading the note yesterday Fanny had gone directly to her husband’s study.
As was his wont, he had been no help. The only thing he asked was what had she expected. He had shared—only because the letter had alluded to it—he too had written to His Grace and had been told to desist.
Now she would not be able to gain her re-entry to local society. Not only that, it would be worse. Thanks to that plain Charlotte Lucas corresponding with her wilful daughter, it would be known by everyone she had been excluded from the wedding as soon as Miss Lucas shared that nugget with her parents.
At least the entail would be broken as soon as that cursed girl bore her husband a son.
Fanny saw no contradiction between her insistence Elizabeth had been the reason she never bore a son and the fact she was counting on the self-same girl delivering one.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Elizabeth woke before the sun, after having had perhaps four hours of sleep. Next to her, Jane was still slumbering peacefully. Rather than exit the bed and wake her beloved sister, she remained as still as she was able as she counted the time until she would be the old man’s wife.
Eventually, Elizabeth heard the sounds of the household waking up. The sun was up when one of the Gardiners’ maids entered and told Miss Elizabeth her aunt was summoning her to her private sitting room.
Jane was awake by the time Elizabeth had secured her robe and left the chamber to go join her aunt.
On entering, Elizabeth did not miss the tray with her favourite strawberry pastries on the plate and a cup of hot chocolate, the steam still rising, next to it. As much as she loved both things, Elizabeth was not sure she would be able to eat or drink anything, especially on this day of all days.
Seeing her niece was about to protest, Madeline spoke first. “Lizzy, please trust me when I tell you it is in your best interest to break your fast now. Regardless of how much you do not want to be marrying the Duke, you will only hurt yourself if you are faint from hunger.”
“I suppose,” Elizabeth agreed with no good humour.
She threw herself onto the settee next to her aunt with resignation and took a bite of one of the pastries. As was common with many, as soon as she took the first bite, her body told her how hungry she was, and not long after both pastries were gone and the cup drained of all hot chocolate.
After scraping out the last drops of the decadent drink with the teaspoon and licking the remnants of the pastries from her fingers, it was time to make for the bath.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
The Gardiner carriage arrived at St. Paul’s just before the time the Duke had demanded they be there. Wickham had been posted outside and as soon as he saw them arrive, made his way into the cavernous church to inform his master.
The Duke had been sitting in one of the highbacked chairs on the side of the altar usually reserved for Bishops and above when Wickham drew his attention and nodded.
To his chagrin, the only peer present was the Earl of Colbath and his countess. In the back were a few people the Duke guessed were reporters for some of the gossip rags. He did not object to their presence as that way his wedding would garner some of the attention he felt was his right.
Less than five minutes after Wickham entered St. Paul’s, the tradesman’s wife and his bride’s sisters, except for the blonde entered the nave of the church and took seats across the aisle from Colbath and his wife.
Per his agreement, the Duke had met at Colbath’s solicitor’s office handing the man the debt markers relating to Lord McEntire. He had signed a document stating once the Countess sponsored his wife and the new duchess was presented, the vowels were to be released to the Earl.
He lamented his shortsightedness; he should have made Colbath standing up with him part of the bargain. As it was, the Earl had refused thanks to the confidence of knowing the debt receipts were with his lawyer.
That had led to having Wickham stand up with him. How humiliating. At least it was better than having his valet do the duty.
As soon as he saw the blonde sister begin her walk up the aisle, Hertfordshire, with Wickham’s assistance, stood and made his way to where he would await his magnificent bride.
He had ordered her to visit a modiste and acquire, at his expense, in addition to an appropriate wardrobe, a magnificent wedding gown so he was interested to see in what she would be bedecked. Also, he had sent some of the Hertfordshire jewels to the uncle’s house for her to wear.
When the sister reached the place she was to stand opposite Wickham, the Bishop of St. Paul’s—he had to be married by a bishop as he had his previous two weddings—indicated for the few people present to stand.
The uncle had entered with his niece on his arm. Even now she was defying him, which he had to admit still aroused him. She wore the same gown she had worn when he had met her at the assembly in Meryton and other than a garnet cross, the only other jewellery she wore was the engagement ring. It was on a finger on her right hand so there would be room to place the wedding ring.
Hertfordshire considered commenting on her dress and lack of jewels but decided against it. He was sure it was exactly what she expected.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
All her prayers he would not be waiting for her in the church had gone unanswered. There he was in all of his old, corpulent glory.
Elizabeth walked as slowly as she was able in order to delay the inevitable as long as possible. Eventually, Uncle Edward stopped at the head of the aisle where the old man stood waiting for her.
She wore a bonnet and Gardiner kissed each of her cheeks, delaying the moment he had to perform the distasteful task of handing his niece over to a brute. Once he did the duty, the last thing he wanted to do, Gardiner joined his wife and nieces in the front pew on the right.
The Bishop began the liturgy as prescribed by the Book of Common Prayer . When he asked if there were any who objected, Elizabeth had hoped there would be one who would speak. There was not. After no one raised an objection, Elizabeth stopped listening, trying to imagine something pleasant.
She noticed the Bishop and he both were looking at her expectantly. “I am waiting for your answer,” the Bishop told her sotto voce .
“Please repeat the question, I was wool-gathering,” Elizabeth responded.
“Wilt thou have this Man to thy wedded Husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?” the Bishop repeated.
The Duke felt humiliated his bride was not paying attention. That made the small congregation a good thing, but it would be written about in the gossip columns. For a moment he thought she was about to refuse.
“I will,” Elizabeth intoned. ‘ I mean hardly any of that, certainly, I will never love or honour him! And I will only obey when absolutely necessary! Hopefully, sickness will take him soon, ” Elizabeth promised herself silently.
From there things went according to plan, she even managed to recite her vows without a look that was too sour.
Before she knew it, Elizabeth heard the Bishop recite the concluding prayers: “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.
“Forasmuch as Archibald and Elizabeth have consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be man and wife together. In the name of the Father, the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.
“God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favour look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting. Amen.”
All that remained was the signing of the register. Given her dislike of her former parents, Elizabeth did not regret it would be the final time she signed her name with the family name Bennet.
It was irrevocable now. She was Lady Elizabeth Rose Chamberlain, Duchess of Hertfordshire, Marchioness of Hertford Heights. She tried not to think of the coming wedding night, but the contemplation of being touched by that repugnant old man was never far from her thoughts.