Page 38 of Till Death Us Do Part
Darcy had been fretting for the previous hour about the upcoming ordeal as his valet made him presentable. He was tempted to try tonotlook hisbestfor his wedding, but frankly had no idea how to go about it. Instead, he asked his valet to pick something at random and prepare him as usual for an ordinary day of calling.
The headache that had been his constant companion most of the morning was threatening to get worse before it got better, and he also thought the prospect of marriage was turning him into a sniveler, since he had progressed to feeling more than a little feverish.
Taking the note in hand, he reflexively replied, “Thank you, Dawson. Let us feed him and I will see if I have a return.”
“Very good, sir.”
Darcy looked at the note with a sinking feeling and tore the seal open.
23 December 1811
Matlock House, London
Darcy,
Malcolm has taken a turn for the worse and is not expected to live more than another two or three months. I have isolated him and will try to keep his eventual passing quiet as long as possible in the hope that you can get Richard out before the French know he is heir apparent. I do not know if it would change the negotiations, but it seems likely it would make him more valuable.
I suggest you try to settle things with your bride before you go. I will visit her in a few months to ensure she is well settled.
Matlock
With a sigh, he asked his valet to put the note among his things and send the express rider back with acknowledgement, but in no hurry. His headache pounding, he donned hat and gloves, then walked out to join his cousins in the carriage.
In a bout of delayed and underwhelming generosity, Bennet hired a carriage to take his wife and other daughters separately from the bride. He liked to believe it was his liberality of spirit protecting his first daughter to be married without having tolisten to endless commentary on her appearance and what she should do with her new husband. He discounted the idea that it was related to Elizabeth’s threat to walk to the church alone if she had to share a conveyance with her mother. He could have sent his carriage ahead and had it return for the bride but judged that minimising the time his family was exposed to his soon to be son-in-law would be for the best. They were to follow a mere ten minutes after the departure of the rest of the family. The groom had refused the offer of a wedding breakfast, planning to leave straight from the church.
Bennet had received a note from Netherfield the previous afternoon verifying that the groom was in attendance, and his wife’s gossip verified he was there with the long-lamented Mr Bingley, who, if rumours were true, had already secured another bride. The long run of lamentations that went withthatnews went on well into the night, and half the morning, but Elizabeth did not take part in the discussions at all, primarily because she stayed in her room and prohibited entry from anyone, but also because she could care less about Mr Bingley.
When Elizabeth walked down the stairs, he said, “Miss Bennet, that dress makes a bold statement, though I confess, I do not understand what said bold statement actually is.”
Elizabeth stared at him, wondering if he was trying to have an intelligent conversation, or tease her. After the past few weeks of animosity, she really believed she could not tell any more, nor did she care very much.
She at last replied, “The statement is‘I am what I am.’I do not present myself as any better or worse than an ordinary daughter of an ordinary squire. I will not dress myself up enough to pretend to be more than I am, nor will I wear sackcloth to imply that I am less.”
Bennet, for once in his life thought about it a minute. “That is probably wise. You will have to find a way to get along withyour husband and putting on pretensions and airs seems like the wrong approach. He probably knows you about as well as I knew your mother before our wedding. I would hope, for your sake, that the two of you can come to a better understanding than we did.”
“I am sceptical, but I will do my best. As I said, he needs to help a little, but a very little will do.”
Bennet just nodded and gestured to the door so they could get on with it.
16.From This Day Forward
“Mr Darcy, welcome, sir.
“Thank you, Mr Carlson,” Darcy answered cordially to the Meryton rector that was about to change his life forever with a few words. “You know Mr Bingley of course. May I present his wife and my cousin, Mrs Anne Bingley.”
“Welcome to Meryton, Mrs Bingley. I hope you enjoy your time with us. Good to see you again, Mr Bingley.”
Darcy’s head felt like it was going to explode any minute, and wondered idly if he was ill, or just succumbing to the pressure of the situation. He certainly felt worse than he had even when dealing with Wickham in Ramsgate, but such was his level of agitation, he could not speculate on his own health or sanity with any certainty. The three weeks of exhaustion through work, worry, and lack of sleep were not helping either. All in all, he found himself in a wretched state.
Darcy had been mildly curious as to who would stand up as witness for Miss Elizabeth. He would have given five to one that it would be the eldest Miss Bennet, as they had seemed inseparable when that lady was ill at Netherfield. He wondered if that would be awkward for Bingley, but in the end, it turned out not to be an issue.
Much to his surprise, the woman he found waiting was a matron, a decade his senior, who was completely unknown, but looked vaguely familiar. He was happy it was not Miss Bennet, but curious about why it was not, and wondered if he would ever know. The rector introduced the lady as Mrs Gardiner but made no mention of her connexion to the bride, probably assuming the groom either already knew or would learn from his bride in due course.
While Bingley was escorting his wife to a seat as far from the Bennets as he could politely get, Darcy’s ears started hearing something he really did not much care for.
“Mr Bingley certainly did not let any grass grow under his feet. Just look at that, a mere month after making such violent love to my Jane. I truly feel for Jane who is all that is beautiful and all that is good, but I know she did her best to secure him, so I shall not censure her, since losing such an inconstant man is no bother. But,oh my, look at Mr Darcy… so handsome… so elegant… so wealthy… ten thousand a year and likely more. Did you see his carriage? Look at his coat. He is as good as a lord. My clever Lizzy is certainly a lucky girl!”
The words were whispered with such sublime subtlety they only carried for fifty yards. It was certainly loud enough for him to hear it and be mortified while grinding his teeth until his jaw hurt. A quick glance at the speaker showed, as expected, Mrs Bennet talking to one or two of the ladies of the neighbourhood, perhaps Lady Lucas. He could not be certain—nor did he care. A glance at Mrs Gardiner showed her wincing nearly as bad as he must be.
