“I found myself superfluous, in a discussion of exclusively womanly concerns,” he replied. “I could think of nothing to contribute to Mrs. Collins’ discussion of her condition.”
Mr. Bennet smiled with a nod of perfect understanding. “Well, I understand you have a rather remarkable library; I recommend you avail yourself of it on all such occasions; or, should you be here in Meryton, you may always take refuge in mine.” He turned to Bingley with an exaggerated frown and said, “Unlike your friend, here, you seem capable of maintaining twenty minutes’ silence.” Bingley returned a good-natured smile in response to this impeachment, at which Mr. Bennet smoothed his brow and gave a slight smile of his own.
Just then Mr. Phillips, who was standing in the group with a rather vacant smile on his face and was finishing a cup of punch, looked around to see his wife coming up to him; she cried in tones that carried half-way across the room, “Mr. Phillips! We’ve not been here half an hour, and that is your second cup!” His smile changed to a look of guilt, and he looked about him, trying to determine what might be done to hide the offending cup in his hand. Mr. Bennet’s smile fled, and he shortly did the same, seeking to distance himself from his sister-in-law.
It was not long before Elizabeth came in search of Darcy; taking his arm, she walked over to where Georgiana was seated with Jane; naturally, Bingley drifted over to them shortly thereafter. They were not long left to themselves, as the two couples were sure to draw others to them. Lady Lucas, with Mr. Collins in tow, came up to them with her good wishes and prognostications of happiness. but then she said, in accents alive with curiosity, “I do hope Lady Catherine won’t stay angry too long: I should imagine you have had word from her, Mr. Darcy?”
“I have not,” Darcy allowed.
“But you will naturally wish to make amends,” interjected Mr. Collins anxiously. “I should never dare to judge your actions, Sir, but I’m sure that, as you will naturally want to make your apologies to your noble aunt, I should be happy to carry them to Her Ladyship on your behalf.”
Darcy felt Elizabeth take hold of his arm, and he took pause to reconsider the heated words he was about to utter. He gave a curt nod to Collins by way of acknowledgement, thanked Lady Lucas for her good wishes, and led his little group away. Aside from these few moments, though, the afternoon went well; indeed, Darcy had need of little besides Elizabeth at his side, and with Georgiana, and Jane and Bingley, he could not ask for a more comfortable, congenial party.
The weddings took place on that Friday afternoon, with a small but lavish dinner to follow; Mrs. Bennet had been in a torment of indecision over holding the dinner at Longbourn, for the delight of having such an entertainment in her own home, or having it amidst Netherfield’s grandeur, that her daughter’s new station might be properly admired by all who attended. The two gentlemen wished to hold it at Netherfield, and their ladies wisely withheld their opinions, not wishing to intensify the uncertainty in their mother’s mind. It was finally resolved by Mr. Bennet, whose well-balanced judgement—and thrift—combined to favour his son-in-law as host.
Meryton parish had not seen such a wedding-day in living memory, and nearly the whole town turned out to greet the couples as they emerged. Perkins and his wife were amongst those nearest the door, smiling and applauding, with, in Mrs. Perkins’ case, just one happy tear to show the sincerity of her good wishes.
The Gardiners were not in London that week and could not make the trip, but Darcy and Elizabeth had invited them instead to dine at Grosvenor Square on the following Thursday. Their evening party that night at Netherfield was mostly a family affair, with a few good friends and neighbours to round out the gathering and increase the joy of the event; it was quite splendid, indeed—well beyond what was normally seen amongst even the best families of the neighbourhood—but still marked by Bingley’s friendly ease and hospitality; so delightful was it, that even Mr. Bennet was in a sufficiently mellow mood to essay one or two good-natured bons mots for the benefit of the company. The servants of Netherfield and Longbourn held their own modest celebrations, and it was an evening altogether remarkable for a nearly universal sense of well-being in the little community of Meryton. On Saturday morning, after rather a late start, the two couples and Georgiana took to their coaches, and once more followed the road to London.
Of course, Georgiana was with Darcy and Elizabeth; the ladies were both tired from the week’s activities and a late night, and slept a good part of the journey. Darcy, sitting cradling Elizabeth against him as she dozed, looked out over the scenery with a drowsy sort of bemusement; this was, he calculated, the sixth time he had passed along this road, yet with such a vast contrariety of thoughts and emotions as to quite amaze him, looking back over the year. Extraordinary—astonishing—that so many things had changed in his life during that time, and what this stretch of road through the English countryside would always mean to him; such things as held more import than the wealth of nations and the rising and falling of empires, all comprehended and brought to completion by the surpassing peace and ease of holding Elizabeth asleep in his arms.
Epilogue
Elizabeth left her chambers after dressing for the day and went in search of her recent acquisition; she found him seated in the breakfast-room, quietly reading the paper along with her Uncle Gardiner. The two men rose as she entered, and she was kissed first by her uncle, then more spiritedly by her husband. When she was seated, Reynolds brought her a cup of tea.
“Good morning, Reynolds. Is your back at all better?” she asked with concern.
“Yes, thank you very much, Madam. That plaster was a vast help, and I slept well for the first time in weeks; amazing.”
Elizabeth patted his arm, smiling up at him. “I am so glad; it always worked for my father.”
“Yes, Madam; thank you again.” He smiled at her in an almost paternal manner before turning back to the side-board.
On her arrival in Derbyshire some four weeks earlier, Elizabeth had been pleasantly surprised at how smoothly Pemberley was run; her day-to-day responsibilities were minimal: but she recognized how invaluable Reynolds was to its operation, so when she had heard he was losing sleep with a bad back, she had instantly thought of the soap-and-salt plaster her father used on his back when it seized. She and Jane had been making it for years, as her mother could never quite remember the recipe properly.
“Where is my aunt?” she asked Mr. Gardiner.
“She is somewhere about,” he said. “She finished breakfast and, tiring of watching the two of us read and dawdle, she went off in search of occupation.”
“It will be time for services before too long,” Elizabeth pointed out.
“Yes, my dear; I am sure she will not have forgotten Morning Service on Christmas Day,” Mr. Gardiner said, amused.
“Gardiner,” Darcy spoke up from behind his paper, “have you any idea where my wife got this notion that no one is capable of running their lives without her help?”
“Certainly not from my side of the family,” he said. “Yet it seems unlikely to have come through my brother Bennet: it almost makes me wonder if my sister had outside help.”
Elizabeth gasped. “I shall throw something at you in a moment!” she warned him.
“And where did she acquire that habit?” queried her uncle.
“Ah…that comes from my side,” Darcy admitted with some embarrassment. “I throw things: pillows, and rolls and such; and my aunt has been known to throw a spoon with deadly accuracy.”
“Charming,” said Mr. Gardiner dryly.
“Is not it?” put in Elizabeth with pleasure. “I do adore these little customs of the ton; they give one so much more latitude of expression in daily life.”
“Are you saying I belong to the ton?” Darcy asked in an injured voice. “I hope I am not so trifling a person as that.”
“Oh, my dear!” Elizabeth jumped up and soothed him with caresses, at which her uncle rolled his eyes and shook his paper, lifting it even higher in f
ront of him. Darcy, mollified, put his arm around his wife and said, “You look well, my dear; am I fit to accompany you to church?”
“You look very well, indeed,” she told him gently. “Blue becomes you exceedingly,” she said, smoothing his lapels with the palm of her hand.
“Did Perkins shave me properly?”
Elizabeth ran the back of her hand delicately across his cheek. “Umm, perfect,” she said softly. As the two of them seemed to have no immediate inclination to disentwine, Mr. Gardiner said pointedly, “I beg your pardon! Do you mind? Elizabeth, finish your breakfast, and have some respect for an old man’s feelings: poor Reynolds hardly knows where to look.” That worthy changed a laugh into a cough, turning away to the side table and adjusting the placement of the tea service quite unnecessarily.
Georgiana came in to join them at this moment, and Elizabeth ran to greet her; the sisters embraced, and walked together to the table arm in arm. Georgiana was also in looks, and, whether by design or coincidence, her frock went very well with Elizabeth’s.
The two ladies breakfasted lightly, chatting about the plans for the day’s activities; Mrs. Gardiner came in just as they finished, dressed for the out-of-doors and pulling on her gloves. “I have been outside,” she announced, “and the mist is clearing, but it will be a raw day; we shall need our coats. Darcy, do not forget you are to read the Lesson; the vicar’s asthma is bad and the curate is gone to Lambton for the early services.”
“Yes Ma’am,” Darcy said with a smile. It had been quite a while since he had found himself being shepherded to church by an older female relative, and he found the experience amusing. To Mr. Gardiner he said, “It strikes me, Gardiner, that perhaps managing men is just what women do; it seems to be quite a wide-spread practice amongst them.” Mr. Gardiner chuckled and nodded his agreement.
Ignoring this, Mrs. Gardiner said, “Come along; we must not keep the congregation waiting on such a day as this.” Darcy reflected that his new family had a remarkably well-developed sense of what was due one’s dependents, and honoured them for it.
The ride to Kympton was over in short order, and Elizabeth found herself once again seated in a place of prominence in the Darcy family pew; it was not an entirely new sensation to her to be shown respect by the villagers—it was so even at Longbourn—but she had to own it was done to a much different degree here at Pemberley. It had come back to her on more than one occasion that the villagers and tenants were glad to see the pew occupied, and that they were pleased that the estate had a new mistress at last. As mistress of Pemberley, one of her larger tasks up till now had been preparing for Boxing Day, with all the gifts for the many dependents of the estate. As it was to be her first real introduction to those she would live amongst, and would reflect strongly on her husband, she had taken the task very seriously; it had occasioned the early arrival of her aunt and uncle, Darcy having encouraged her to invite them to support her in her efforts, as she adjusted to her new rôle as patroness for what seemed to be half a county. Stevenson had made out a list of those to be included, and Elizabeth had consulted with him at length, as well as with her husband and the Reynoldses; it had taken quite a few shopping trips to Kympton, Matlock, and even Derby, to fill out the list, but it was done at last.
During services, Darcy was pleased to note that the congregation was quiet and orderly; this, he thought, must be out of respect for his new lady: she was as yet an unknown quantity to them; although, he had to admit, the glances towards him and his family were not anxious, or even curious—rather they reflected a sort of unobtrusive contentment, or so he thought; this could be merely a reflection of his own contentment, though, he supposed. When it was time for the Lesson, he rose and went to the lectern. There was a creak and shuffle as the congregation adjusted their seats and readied themselves to listen to him. The reading was out of Isaiah, for which Darcy was grateful; he had once had the rather wearisome task of recounting the nations of Abraham in Genesis, and had also once been thrust into a variety of particularly ferocious beasts in a gloomy section of Jeremiah. But to-day he found a particular meaning in the reading: “…The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light…”; this could certainly pertain to him, and the light Elizabeth had led him to. He scolded his mind back to his reading, and, up until “Here Endeth the First Lesson,” he kept his mind resolutely on the page before him.
Back in his pew, Mrs. Gardiner leaned over and whispered, “That was very well read, dear; you have a very nice voice for reading.”
He smiled his thanks, and turned his attention back to the vicar, who wisely spoke very little before calling for the Te Deum. Darcy led his family out down the aisle, and waited for the vicar to come out. As the rest of the congregation filed out, Darcy was pleased to see Corporal Sands, wearing his uniform jacket as usual, saunter out and join a small family gathering off to one side; one of the family members was a young woman of perhaps five-and-twenty, who, Darcy thought, showed more than a passing interest in the Corporal.
Darcy and his family staid just long enough to hear that the vicar’s affliction would not keep him from attending dinner that afternoon, and returned to Pemberley House, for there were still a number of preparations to be made. The carriage went through Lambton first, as Darcy had an errand to attend to, then on to Pemberley; the ride was soggy, but they made good time.
Elizabeth disappeared below stairs on their return, and Mrs. Gardiner set about putting the final touches on the decorations, including the placement of the mistletoe ball. Darcy saw with amusement that his sister was careful to adjust her path so she might never find herself under it, even though there were as yet no young men about.
“Who is it you wish to avoid, Dearest?” he teazed her. “That new curate, or young Horton?”
“Both, thank you, Brother,” said she with just a hint of asperity.
Darcy smiled at her in an apologetic way to show he was only playing; he rather suspected he was right about a tentative interest from the two young men, though; but knowing Georgiana, he was certain she did not return it: otherwise he should never have mentioned it. But he did enjoy sporting with her in this mild way, and was pleased that she allowed herself to show some slight pique; he hoped that, over time, such little ploys, in conjunction with Elizabeth’s example of liveliness and wit, might help increase her equanimity and assurance in company.
Mr. and Mrs. Bingley and the Bennets had, of course, been invited to spend the holidays at Pemberley, but Jane had expressed a wish to spend their first Christmas in their own home, and naturally Bingley would deny her nothing, although it must be admitted that he, too, enjoyed his new rôle, as one of the principle figures in the neighbourhood, to no small degree. And with the Bingley’s decision to stay at Netherfield, nothing could have torn Mrs. Bennet away from the chance to display her daughter’s circumstance and comfort, with great parade, to all their acquaintance in and around Meryton.
Through the afternoon the preparations continued, but all was in readiness well before the guests started arriving; the halls were covered in greenery, and gilded decorations adorned every corner. When the guests first began to arrive, Elizabeth went with Georgiana and Darcy to greet every one as they came in; Elizabeth smiled charmingly at her new neighbours, and Darcy found himself relaxing in a manner he never had before in such circumstances; being sensible that Elizabeth was there to support him—or rather, that he had only to support her—allowed him to greet his guests with a degree of welcome new to him. Georgiana, too, seemed more comfortable as the arrivals filed past, and added her voice to the greetings as well; Elizabeth had a pleasant word for every one, and had a knack of making each welcome seem very personal; perhaps, Darcy hoped and believed, because she truly enjoyed being mistress of Pemberley, and could not help but show it in the performance of her duties.
Dinner was a pleasant affair, marked by excellent food, quiet comfort throughout, and the occasional outburst of laughter. Afterwards, there were games and cards, and, whil
e Georgiana carefully avoided it, the mistletoe ball had to be replaced twice. Darcy was fairly certain he could distinguish an understated interest from the curate, a young man new to the neighbourhood, but from a good family to the south, and also from young Alistair Horton, heir to Catton Hall; Georgiana, however, remained near her sister’s side, often with Elizabeth’s arm around her waist, leaving little opportunity for the two gentlemen to speak with her.
The vicar left early, and Elizabeth made sure he was well supplied with heated bricks for the carriage ride back to Kympton. Their revels lasted well into the evening, with a small ball and a supper to follow. However, Darcy had, for the health of his family and servants, determined not to let it go more than an hour past midnight, as the next day was also to be a tiring one.
On this Boxing Day Pemberley held open house, starting after breakfast and lasting through the afternoon; the many dependents of the estate were greeted with thanks, gifts, and food; the visitors included one hardy company of mummers, arrived from Lambton; Darcy was pleased to see Corporal Sands was amongst the company, assuring him thereby that the Corporal was fitting in well here in Derbyshire.
Drawing him aside, Darcy was pleased to give the Corporal a new, very fashionable coat to replace his uniform jacket. “I like the other well enough for your official duties as constable,” he told him, “but I suspect that you will soon have need of another, for a different sort of official ceremony.”
Sands whistled happily, saying, “I thank you, Major. You might just be right, at that.”
Darcy's Tale, Volume III_The Way Home Page 26
