“She sounds delightful. The doll is one I have had since I was about Anna’s age. When Jane and I were younger, Uncle Gardiner gave us both wooden dolls made by an old toymaker who was a friend of one of his suppliers. My doll’s name is Janie and Jane’s doll is called Lizzy−very original, do you not agree?” She giggled.
“I do!” He smiled broadly. “Anna’s favourite doll is simply called ‘Dolly’.”
“And very practical, I might add. She is a girl after my own heart. My Janie doll now has a new bonnet, a new dress and parasol, and some lovely dancing slippers. Not to mention she has her very own story with water colour illustrations painted by Kitty. It is about a little girl who has befriended a barn cat called Patches. I cannot wait to read it to your Anna.”
“Our Anna,” he quietly said, caressing her cheek.
“Yes, William, our Anna, and I do look forward to being her mother.”
“Elizabeth, I cannot begin to tell you how it warms my heart to hear you speak of her with such affection. She will be delighted with everything you and your sisters have done for her benefit. Sadly, Anne was not one to take much of an interest in ayoung child. Of course she loved Anna, but her priorities did not include mothering.” He squeezed Elizabeth’s hand and smiled with reassurance. “Now, however, Anna will have you, and I am grateful that you will be a part of our family.”
“I am honoured and I truly believe we shall all do very well together.”
“Yes, we shall.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THE WEDDING
Tuesday, 25 June
Early Morning
The Meryton Inn
It mattered not that first light was barely on the horizon, for Fitzwilliam Darcy was already groomed and dressed for this eventful day. It would be nothing like his first wedding, the lavish event Lady Catherine insisted upon to impress her friends in Town when he and Anne were married. Instead, he would be surrounded by simple country folk including Elizabeth’s family, and a few of his closest friends and relations who had come from Town. More importantly, he would be marrying a woman who loved him and one whom he loved in return.
“Elizabeth,” he warmly sighed, inhaling the sweet lavender scent which lingered on the handkerchief she had given him the previous evening. Mrs. Bennet had hosted yet another lovely dinner at the manor house, this time for his out-of-town guests and her immediate relations.
The food was splendid and the company was surprisingly well-suited to one another. After what happened at the charity ball, William had not anticipated Mrs. Bennet could be such a cordial hostess. Not to mention she oversaw all of the preparations for the wedding and wedding breakfast. Fortunately, the woman had the help of her eldest daughters and Mrs. Gardiner. Even so, not once did he hear her complain about her “poor nerves.”
Because Elizabeth had arranged the seating for last night’s dinner, William pleasantly found himself seated on Mr. Bennet’s end of the table, next to Elizabeth and across from the Gardiners and Lady Gwendolyn. His dinner companions were engaging, and there was no lack of conversation to be had. Predictably, Lady Gwendolyn appeared very pleased to see her initial matchmaking was not in vain despite the circumstances. Her opinions and witticism flowed in tandem with Bennet and Elizabeth, who relished in twisting the English language.
“Mr. Darcy,” Bennet wryly said. “You have proved to be a delightful diversion this evening. After knowing you better, I can see my daughter will be a formidable opponent when it comes to a battle of wits.” He chuckled. “It will give me great pleasure thinking of you at her mercy in the days to come.”
“I am not afraid of your daughter, sir. In fact, it was her keen mind, as well as her argumentative nature, that first drew my notice.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth playfully bristled. “‘Argumentative nature,’ you say? With that in mind, I believe I shall be hard pressed not to continue my sport at your expense.”
“I shall look forward to it, my dear,” he countered. “Who knows, you may find me rather daunting. Now that I know you better, who is to say I shall not anticipate your discourse?”
“We shall see,” she answered, with a twinkle in her eyes.
Despite Mr. Bennet’s failings, William deemed he would be proud to call the older gentleman Father once he and Elizabeth were married. ‘Twas a pity the man’s health was so poor, for Bennet’s mind was sharp and he delighted in verbal play. It warmed William’s heart to see father and daughter conversing in this manner, and in the end he did not mind being the brunt of their good-humoured abuse.
On the other hand, knowing how close the two of them were, it saddened William to think how much his Elizabeth would suffer when her father was no more. To that end, he would do his best to ensure that his beloved would have many more opportunities to visit him after they married. He knew only too well how difficult it was to lose a parent, both parents, and he was determined to support Elizabeth in whatever way he could from that respect. Pemberley would always be there, but Bennet would not.
Carefully folding her handkerchief, he kissed it and tucked it into his breast pocket while recalling her playfulness. When the others were saying their goodbyes in the courtyard, she had taken his hand and slyly pulled him around the hedges and to the side of a large tree.
“At last I have you to myself,” she said, allowing him to take her into his embrace. “Please do not think me wanton, but I could not let you go without a few moments alone.”
“Never.” He kissed her gently on the lips.
“I wanted to give you a small token of my love before you leave.” Reaching into her pocket, she gave him her newly-finished handkerchief. “Can you see it well enough in the moonlight?”
“I can,” he said, taking the cloth and carefully examining it. “It is lovely, Elizabeth.”
“I think I shall like my new initials very well.” She smiled radiantly. “And look here; I have entwined them with SweetWilliams. I … I thought you might carry it in your pocket when we meet again at the church?”
