“You see Janey, since you were taken, I have become a watering pot! I, who hardly ever used to cry; now I cannot stop myself. I am sure I do not need to tell you all as I am certain you are watching over us. That being said, I have forgiven Mrs Hurst, and I made sure to show Miss Bingley just how much her presence is not desired.” Elizabeth paused as the breeze changed direction, and a stronger gust blew directly into her face.
“Yes, Janey I heard you. I should not have struck the shrew, but I had to do something. She was so callous about your passing, and she was the one who made matters worse.” Another stronger gust hit Elizabeth. “I promise Janey, regardless of how frustrated I become with our parents, I willnot lift my hand against either of them, and I will remember how you would have acted, and control my anger.”
Her assurance must have been believed because the breeze became slight once more, coming out of the east as it had been before. As if she needed a reminder she had promised to open her heart to love after her mourning period, Elizabeth looked up and saw a tall man riding atop a black horse in Netherfield Park’s fields, not far from the border with Longbourn and rather close to Oakham Mount. Even without her excellent eyesight, Elizabeth would have known it was Mr Darcy. The way he held himself made it impossible not to identify him.
While she watched him push his horse hard as he galloped across the field, Elizabeth felt a warmth spread through her; one she was not ready to feel yet. However, her hand found the linen square in her pocket and she rubbed the monogram surrounded by the flowers. Thankfully, Mr Darcy had wheeled his horse around and was riding at a more sedate pace in the direction of the manor house.
“Yes, Janey, I remember that particular promise, there was no need for me to see Mr Darcy to recall it. Besides, who knows if Mr Darcy will be the one with whom I fall in love.” Like it had earlier, the breeze faded, and then a gust of wind blew in her face. Elizabeth decided not to analyse what it meant .
She ate the treats she had been given. After licking all crumbs from her fingers, Elizabeth put her gloves on again, tied her bonnet in place, and began the walk down the hill towards Longbourn.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Caroline Bingley forced herself to wake early that Monday morning. The night before, she had requested—ordered—the landlord to make sure she was woken no later than eight in the morning. As much as she detested wakingbefore eleven, or better still midday, on this day when all her dreams would be realised, she would not oversleep as she was to meet her fiancé at the church by nine.
How glorious it would be. She, Caroline Maleficent Bingley, the daughter of a tradesman, would be married to the true heir of Pemberley in no more than two hours. She was already forming plans of how she would punish all of the women who had disrespected her because of her roots. She would start by ruining those harpies who had made her life a living hell when she had attended the seminary. How glorious it would be to no longer have to pretend friendships with the Miss Grantleys of the world. Caroline was well aware the lady and her friends snickered about her behind their fans, but she had needed the contacts. No more!
As she had no more money, and she needed to bribe one of the maids to assist her that morning, she had given the girl the least valuable piece of jewellery she owned. That was a piece which belonged to her mother and one she knew that traitor Louisa had always wanted. She felt her revenge on her sister all the keener having to give the piece to a mere servant. The value was likely more than the nothing girl earned in a year, but Caroline had to look her best. A woman only marries the man of her dreams once in her lifetime. More accurately put, the property, the wealth, and the possessions of her dreams.
The maid arrived at the time she said she would, assisted Caroline to bathe, and then after she had been dried off, the girl helped the bride into the best of her burnt orange ensembles. Miss Bingley was sure her fiancé would be greatly impressed by her outfit which was at the zenith of fashion.
Since they had joined the previous night, she had felt pain in her nether regions, but not knowing any better, Miss Bingley thought it was perfectly normal. All she could do was hope their subsequent couplings would be with less pain. She had heard women talk of marital relations being a chore awoman had to bear until she had produced the requisite heir and a spare. Thereafter, the husband could visit his mistresses to slake his needs. It had been so very unpleasant; hence, Caroline was praying she already carried the next heir of Pemberley.
She concentrated on the coaches, jewels, and pin money she would have as she admired herself in the mirror. That, added to the status of being a member of the first circles, made any pain worth enduring.
Seeing the church was only a few minutes away from the inn, Miss Bingley made her way downstairs at a quarter before the hour.
~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~
Both dressed in their regimentals, Wickham and Denny stood in the nave of St Alfred’s speaking to the rector. “You understand Mr Wickham that unless I am satisfied all is in order, I will not perform the ceremony,” the vicar warned.
“The fact I am here waiting, and not pulling my fiancée up the aisle towards the altar should assure you that Miss Bingley comes to marry me of her free will,” Wickham drawled.
“Do you have flowers for your bride to hold?” Denny enquired.
“There was no time for such niceties,” Wickham claimed as he waived Denny’s concern away. “All we both care about is that we will be joined as man and wife, the rest will happen in its time.”
Just then the inner vestibule door opened, and an orange monstrosity entered the nave. All three men had to fight their urges to gasp at what they were seeing.
“My love,” Wickham stated with a deadpan expression as he advanced to guide his fiancée to the clergyman. “Mr Chambers, allow me to present my fiancée, Miss Caroline Bingley. My dear, the vicar of St Alfred’s church, Mr SydneyChambers.”
Denny stood shaking his head. Until the Ice Queen entered the church, he had been sure Wickham was funning him with an elaborate ruse. But here the woman stood, looking as pleased as punch to be there. He knew not what magic spell Wickham cast over the lady but it seemed, in this, the man had spoken the truth.
“Mr Denny, please accompany your friend to the last row of the pews so I may speak to Miss Bingley without prompting from anyone,” the vicar requested.
Knowing his prey was well and truly caught, Wickham had no issue at complying with the request .
As soon as the two lieutenants were out of earshot, Mr Chambers began his questioning. “Miss Bingley, in order for me to validate the common license, I must ask you some questions first; do you have any objection to my doing so?” Caroline had been warned by Mr Wickham, Mr Darcy in the new year, they would not be married without answering certain questions. She hid her annoyance at being interrogated by a mere clergyman and nodded her head. “Were you coerced in any way, or compromised into marriage with Mr Wickham?”
“Neither. My fiancé proposed to me, and I accepted him without any reservations,” Miss Bingley replied firmly.
Miss Bingley responded without any hesitation, and without thinking of words she may have been coached to say. The vicar detected no doubts in the lady before him. She had no fashion sense, but that was not a reason to deny them a wedding. “My only other question is are you of age?”
Knowing that this was not a time to prevaricate, or her marriage could be invalidated, Miss Bingley replied, “I am four and twenty. I was born in Scarborough on the tenth day of August 1786. Yes, I am of age,” Miss Bingley responded.
“In that case, I see no impediment to my marrying youand Mr Wickham. Do you have a middle name or is it just Caroline Bingley?” Chambers enquired.
“My full name is Caroline Maleficent Bingley,” she related proudly. She watched as the rector wrote her full name in the space for the name of the bride on the license he held.
