“I have informed Hayward and his wife, as well as Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley, of the possibility, so no one will be taken unawares.”
Her smile brightened at my reply.
Dear Lord, she would not want a long engagement, would she? “Have you considered where and when you would like us to marry?”As soon as possible?
“Ah, well… Where do you attend church in town?”
“St. James’s in Piccadilly.”
She nodded. “The Bartons belong to St. George’s, but Cassie has been to St. James’s and has declared it to be lovely. Should you like to marry there in a month’s time?”
“If that suits you, I should like nothing better.”
“Then it is settled.”
Thank goodness.“Shall we go there on Friday so you may meet the rector, Mr. Andrewes, and we may make the arrangements?”
“Yes, by all means.”
The breeze picked up, sending a surge of coolness through the air and rippling the thin fabric of her shawl.
“Are you cold?”
“No.” Her lips curled up in a coy style. “But perhaps you should take me in your arms again to ensure I do not take a chill.”
“I am at your service.” Elizabeth’s delectable figure melted against me as I held her, her slender arms snug around my middle and her head resting upon my shoulder. Warmth emanated from my chest and spread through my limbs with a tingling sensation. Before I met Elizabeth, I could never have fathomed such felicity. Back then, I had merely existed. With her at my side, my life would be vigorous, vivid, and complete.
Monday, 7 September 1812
Pemberley
Elizabeth
A soft chuckle escaped me, and I shook my head, setting Cassie’s letter upon the desk. Marriage had not altered my cousin’s tendencies in the least, and she took delight in managing the household at Hawthorne Ridge. In this missive, she lauded Mr. Stephen Ware’s efforts to increase the estate’s yield of grain and expand their herds of cattle and sheep. Cassie declared that her husband’s income had surpassed that of her father.
In addition to her usual effusions of idle gossip, accounts of recent parties, dinners, and dances, and detailed descriptions of her latest acquisitions from the milliner or mantua maker, Cassie shared a notable bit of news: Noah had fallen in love!
Cassie related that, ever since he made the acquaintance of Miss Rowe, the niece and guest of Mr. Rowe, Noah had found an excuse to call upon the Rowe residence each day. To my knowledge, he had never been so charmed by a lady before. Might we have another wedding to attend soon?
Fitzwilliam and I had married in the beautiful sanctuary at St. James’s Church and spent our wedding night at Darcy House. My aunt Gardiner had counselled me on what to expect in the marital bed and answered my questions with unflinching frankness. Still, that first night had proved to be a bit awkward, with Fitzwilliam wary of causing me pain and my apprehension of disappointing him rendering me hesitant and shy. But after a few days andseveral candid conversations, we dispensed with such trifling concerns. Now, we spent our intimate moments generating a wondrous degree of mutual pleasure.
As for Pemberley, I could not be more delighted with my new home and the many entrancing aspects of nature around us, including the green rolling hills, River Derwent, moors, sandstone formations, and the limestone plateau.
My husband had never caused me to doubt his profound affection for me. I could almost compare his love to a living entity—one that fortified and shielded me like an impenetrable suit of armour from all who would attack me. And I had been subjected to no more than two or three hostile encounters. The vigour of his aunt Lady Catherine’s animosity, though, gave me pause. A week before our wedding, she had appeared at my uncle Gardiner’s house and made a deplorable attempt to persuade me to jilt Fitzwilliam. Needless to say, she left dissatisfied.
Fitzwilliam had apologised on her behalf and informed Lady Catherine that she would not be welcome at either of our homes until she had repented to my satisfaction; yet no attempt at her atonement had been forthcoming, and Fitzwilliam disclosed he found the estrangement from her to be closer to a blessing than a punishment.
Thus, I had no room for complaints. Despite my nervousness at meeting my husband’s uncle and aunt, Lord and Lady Matlock, they treated me with perfect civility, if not cordiality. As for the other Fitzwilliams, Lord and Lady Berkeley and Colonel Fitzwilliam, I found them to be charming.
Dearest Georgiana had become a true sister to me. She had confided her disinclination to make her debut, although it would not occur until two years hence. Like her brother, she disliked having public attention upon her. Before her eighteenth birthday, I should make every effort to allay her fears and increase her self-confidence.
A familiar set of footfalls disrupted my rumination, and my husband appeared in the doorway. “Elizabeth, is this an agreeable time to talk?”
“Indeed, it is.” He appeared sedate, but not dour, so I maintained a sanguine air as we took seats upon the sofa.
He threaded his fingers through mine and rested our entwined hands upon his thigh. “Bingley has written to me with unfortunate tidings. Your cousin Mr. Collins has expired from a severe illness. He had obtained a minor laceration on his wrist that developed a lethal infection.”
For a moment, I weighed the appropriate amount of bleakness for a distant relation not of my acquaintance. “Oh, that is sad news.”
