With Love's Light Wings

by Jann Rowland

  The lady turned and began to sweep from the room and was halfway through the door before she realized her daughter had not followed her. The confused glance she directed at Anne did not improve her image to those in attendance.

  “Let us go to our rooms, Anne, for we have much to do to depart on the morrow.”

  “If you mean to depart, Mother,” replied Miss de Bourgh, “then I wish you a pleasant journey. If Uncle will oblige me, I would much prefer to stay at Pemberley.”

  “Should he refuse,” interjected Lady Margaret, “you may stay with us at Longbourn.”

  No one missed Lady Margaret’s dig at Lady Catherine, least of all the lady herself. Mr. Darcy stepped in to defuse the situation.

  “Of course, you may stay as long as you wish.”

  “This is not a matter for debate, Anne,” said Lady Catherine, finally finding her voice. “Come with me at once. We will depart tomorrow.”

  “You may depart, but I will stay. As I have already informed you, I have entered a courtship with a good man; I wish to stay and discover if I wish to wed him.”

  “You will do as you are told!” screeched Lady Catherine. “I am your mother; you will obey me.”

  “I am of age and may do as I please,” said Anne, remaining calm in the face of Lady Catherine’s anger.

  “Do you wish me to disown you?”

  Anne snorted. “I am not a simpleton, Mother. I know very well that Papa left Rosings to me. Now that I am of age, the estate is mine, and nothing you say may affect his wishes. That I have continued to allow you to act as mistress shows my affection for you, but I will warn you now my patience is waning fast.”

  It seemed Miss de Bourgh’s reply rendered Lady Catherine senseless, for she stood there, staring at her daughter for several moments. Then she did perhaps the most sensible thing Elizabeth had ever seen her do—she turned and walked from the room.

  “Faugh!” said Lydia with clear disgust. “How you endure that woman is beyond my understanding, for she is the worst meddler I have ever seen in my life!”

  Though Anne giggled at Lydia’s words, Mr. Darcy turned a pointed look on her. “Catherine can be difficult, but a little decorum and restraint on your part would be welcome, Daughter.”

  “Lydia is yet young,” said Lady Margaret, her gaze on her daughter a match for Mr. Darcy’s. “A little maturity and experience will do wonders, though she has always been an outspoken child.”

  The gentleman and baroness exchanged glances which suggested they had reached an accord. Miss Darcy was soon pulled into Lydia and Kitty’s orbit, and soon the three were speaking together in low tones, looking for all the world like three conspirators engaged in mischief. With Lady Catherine’s exit, the group calmed, allowing Elizabeth to turn her attention back on her betrothed.

  “Do you suppose Lady Catherine will subside?”

  William’s huff of disdain spoke to his feelings for his aunt. “Do not suppose Anne routing her in this skirmish will end the battle. I am certain she will return with greater force and attempt to browbeat her daughter into departing.”

  “Never would I have suggested such a thing!” exclaimed Elizabeth with a laugh. “It is clear she is a lady who little appreciates being gainsaid. Her daughter’s defiance cannot have been palatable at all.”

  “And yet, she will not prevail over Anne’s determination, I think. Though Lady Catherine has never deigned to see it, in many respects Anne’s stubbornness is a match for her mother’s.”

  “I am glad to hear it.” Elizabeth paused and fixed William with a curious look. “What do you think of this matter of marrying in the same ceremony as my sisters? I hope you are not offended that our day together shall not be ours alone.”

  “My dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” said William, “I prefer to concern myself with nothing more than having you for my wife. If we should marry in a ceremony with fifty other couples it should not matter to me, as long as we say our vows together.”

  “Fifty!” exclaimed Elizabeth. “I have not the sisters for that, to say nothing of how tedious it would be to stand and listen to nine and forty other couples recite their vows.”

  William fixed her with an amused grin. “If we are among the first, we will be at leisure to depart and leave them to their own weddings.”

  “Then I shall leave you to supervise this epic endeavor, my dearest fiancé, for such a large wedding would be beyond my ability to endure.”

  “Then we shall have to content ourselves with three. As long as you are there, I shall not repine its simplicity.”

  For a moment, her mother shaking her head at them distracted Elizabeth, for it was clear Lady Margaret had overheard their irreverent conversation. When Elizabeth fixed a smile on her, Lady Margaret gazed skyward before directing a grin at her daughter, seeming to suggest she understood Elizabeth’s proclivity for humor.

  For the rest of their time together that day, Elizabeth was inseparable from her fiancé, having no time to give to anyone else. It seemed they had finally achieved that which they desired—a cessation of hostilities between their families, their blessings and their love. Nothing could be superior to this bliss.

  Epilogue

  As Elizabeth had speculated with her husband, Anne had stood strong against her mother’s efforts to bend her to her will. When the lady departed the following day, it was with a sour expression and the expected recriminations. Since that day she had not appeared in Derbyshire. Today, however, the lady was to return.

  “What do you think of this, Anne?” asked Elizabeth, gesturing to a sample they were perusing in anticipation of Anne’s impending wedding.

  “Oh, yes,” said Lady Margaret, “that would be divine at your engagement ball.”

  “It is lovely,” said Anne. She paused and laughed: “My mother might not appreciate it, for she does not like lavender. She calls it a weak, uncertain sort of color.”

  “All the more reason to have it,” said Lydia with a sniff of disdain.

  Elizabeth looked at her sister with a certain amount of exasperation. Though she had now been married more than a year, Lydia had not settled to any great degree. She was still fearless, at times loud, and invariably outspoken. The one thing Elizabeth could say with certainty was that Lydia was besotted with her husband, which sentiment Alexander returned. Fearing, as she had, for her sister’s happiness when she had stolen away to elope the previous year, Elizabeth could confess a certain measure of relief it had turned out in that happy way.

  “Perhaps it is not politic to suggest a choice because another would not appreciate it,” said Lady Margaret, casting a quelling glance at her youngest. Elizabeth doubted it affected her sister to any great degree, but it did silence Lydia’s comments for the moment.

  It was amusing, Elizabeth thought, for Lydia had insisted on sitting in on the preparations, behavior which mirrored the planning for the wedding Elizabeth had shared with Mary and Jane. While the girl would not own to any such feelings, Elizabeth suspected she regretted her own hasty decision to elope and treated her sisters’ wedding as her own vicariously. In Elizabeth’s opinion, Lydia viewed Anne’s wedding much the same as she had her elder sisters’. Cognizant though she was that Lydia’s imprudence had allowed Elizabeth herself to marry more quickly, she felt a certain level of exasperation for her, for had she waited only a little longer, Lydia would have had a wedding of her own.

  Matters had not been without difficulty between the two families, mused Elizabeth as the other ladies debated this fabric or that ribbon, discussed colors and combinations and flowers. Decades of enmity and distrust were not overcome in an instant, no matter how many marriages took place between the families. In particular, in accordance with her father’s prediction, Mr. Darcy and Lord Arundel had almost come to blows on several occasions.

  While it had been difficult and feelings had been offended more than once, the result was worth the effort. The two families were becoming more comfortable with each other, as this forthcoming wedding
between Anne de Bourgh and Uncle Gardiner could attest. Elizabeth was amazed at the changes which had come over her uncle since he began courting Anne. A confirmed bachelor, the family had long thought the continuation of the family line would run through Uncle Edward and his sons. But Uncle Gardiner was reinvigorated by Miss de Bourgh as if he had shed a decade of careworn years in the space of a few months.

  Watching them while they courted was a joy to behold, for it was obvious they were deeply in love. And with Anne’s influence, Mr. Gardiner became less rigid, a more open sort of gentleman. And with her uncle’s love and devotion, Anne had become less cynical and sardonic, and happier than she had seemed before. This was why the family was dreading the return of Lady Catherine, for if there was anyone who could inject division and argument into a harmonious condition, it was Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

  “Lizzy, what do you think of this?” asked Georgiana, pulling Elizabeth’s attention back to the discussion. “Anne is uncertain of this blue with the lavender, but I think they look beautiful together.”

  “It is not how well they complement each other,” said Anne, gently contradicting her young cousin. “My dress will reflect some of these colors we choose, and I do not wear blues well.”

  “That is true,” agreed Elizabeth, smiling at her sister-by-marriage. “Anne does appear to greater advantage in greens.”

  “Then what of this?” suggested Lady Margaret, holding up a sample of mint green.

  As her companions began to once again debate the merits of colors and fabrics, Elizabeth’s mind slipped back into her thoughts. Georgiana had blossomed under the combined tutelage of Elizabeth, Anne, and especially Lady Margaret. She and Kitty had made a wonderful debut, both cutting a swath through the hearts of gentlemen in society. Neither was interested in a quick attachment, which Elizabeth felt was for the best, but each had had suitors, and even one persistent young gentleman had made an offer for Georgiana. It had taken the combined power of the Darcy gentleman to convince the man she was not interested. Privately, Elizabeth suspected Colonel Fitzwilliam had offered to beat him to a pulp before he had finally desisted, though none of the gentlemen would speak of the matter.

  In Elizabeth’s opinion, the return from London had been accomplished at the perfect time. They had been in society for two months, the object of curiosity more often than not, for more than just those in Derbyshire knew of the rivalry between Bennet and Darcy. Anne’s upcoming wedding had been a convenient excuse for them all to retreat, and Anne herself had been the subject of more interest than usual, now that William was off the market. That she had already been engaged by the time they went to London had meant little to some of them. Elizabeth’s uncle had proven his reputation when he had disabused more than one young man eager to gain an estate that Miss de Bourgh would not be changing her mind.

  “What of this one?”

  The sound of the voice caught Elizabeth’s attention, and she looked toward Miss Bingley, who was sitting beside Anne, engaged as any of the others in the debate. The woman had been a surprise to Elizabeth, for while she had been unhappy to learn of the engagement she had so desperately wanted, she had accepted it far sooner than Elizabeth might have expected. Though the woman remained unengaged herself, the rumors were that she had made the acquaintance a young man of a neighboring shire. Elizabeth had not heard more, for the woman remained reticent, but she wished Miss Bingley the best.

  Mary and Mr. Collins were not present, though Elizabeth understood they hoped to attend the wedding. Unlike Jane, Elizabeth, or Lydia—none of whom had yet fallen with child—it seemed Mary had done so immediately, for she had given birth to a son almost two months earlier. He was a lusty child, from what Elizabeth had heard, and as he was also the first grandchild, Lady Margaret doted over him, proud of her middle and most unassuming daughter.

  The ladies stayed in this attitude for some time after, Elizabeth becoming more involved with the discussion as it progressed. They had almost decided when there was a commotion in the corridor outside the room, and in walked the imperious figure of Lady Catherine.

  Those in the room rose at the sight of the lady, while Elizabeth noted several others following her into the room, among them her husband. For a moment no one spoke.

  “I see you have begun the preparations,” observed Lady Catherine, surprising them all with her choice of greeting.

  “Yes, Mother,” said Anne, the intended recipient of Lady Catherine’s comment. “The wedding is fast approaching. We would be unprepared if we had not already started.”

  Lady Catherine sniffed, but the action was surprising in its lack of clear disdain. “I hope you have not chosen lavender,” said she, gesturing to the sample on the table near where Anne was sitting.

  “As a matter of fact,” said Anne, “we had considered it, but we rejected it in favor of light green.”

  “That is well, for you always looked wonderful in green.”

  “Thank you, Mother. I believe you are correct.”

  A pause ensued, and not a comfortable one. It seemed no one knew what to say. Behind Lady Catherine, Elizabeth noted her husband, and when William saw her regarding him, he shrugged his shoulders and looked at his aunt with exasperation. Elizabeth saw what was happening—Lady Catherine, having spent a year estranged from her daughter, wished to be admitted to her circle again, but was unwilling to debase herself to achieve it. Thus, Elizabeth made the first overture, for it was, in the lady’s mind, Elizabeth’s engagement that had led to the death of all her dreams.

  “You must be exhausted from your travels, Lady Catherine,” said Elizabeth, gesturing toward the chair she had occupied. “Please come and sit while I call for tea. Or, if you prefer, you may seek your room to refresh yourself.”

  Though startled at being addressed, Lady Catherine’s expression softened. “I am not fatigued at present, but I should change soon. First, I must . . . I should like very much to learn what you have accomplished, Anne.”

  “Of course, Mama,” said Anne, throwing Elizabeth a grateful smile. “Come and sit with us, and we shall share what we have done. We would all appreciate your opinion.”

  Lady Catherine did as Elizabeth bid, while Elizabeth called Mrs. Reynolds to bring a tea service for her ladyship. With Lady Catherine in their midst, the discussion resumed, and if the lady stated her opinion with more volume and force than necessary, she did not direct and expect to be obeyed as she might have in the past. On one particular occasion in which the lady stated her opinion, Anne looked past her mother, caught Elizabeth’s gaze, and rolled her eyes, requiring Elizabeth to stifle a giggle.

  “Thank you, Elizabeth,” said William quietly, stepping next to Elizabeth and pulling her close. “You have as much reason as any to resent Lady Catherine, and yet you have welcomed her into our midst with conciliatory words and gestures.”

  “It would be best if Lady Catherine reconciled with her daughter,” replied Elizabeth. “I could see at once that she wished to be accepted—she simply did not know how to ask for it.”

  “Then it shows some greatness of mind to recognize her feelings for what they were,” said William.

  “I see it as the last vestige of our families’ former troubles being put to rest. How can I not support such a worthy goal?”

  “How, indeed?” asked William, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “It is my great happiness that I have you in my life, Mrs. Darcy, for there were times I wondered if it would all end in this happy manner.”

  “And yet, it is easy, in hindsight, to see how this end was inevitable,” said Elizabeth. “It was that or open warfare.”

  William laughed. “Then we may be grateful it was not that second option. For if it had been, the only recourse would have been to emigrate to the New World.”

  “If it had come to that, my dear husband, I would have followed you there. I would have followed you anywhere.”

  Focused as they were on each other, neither Elizabeth nor William notice the look Lady Catherine was givin
g them. It was a wistful softness with none of the lady’s rancor. But others noticed, and when Lady Catherine gave them a sad smile and turned back to the discussion with the rest of the ladies, they all knew the last bit of defiance in her had died. The conflict between the families was now dead, leaving a bright future in its wake.

  The End

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