Georgiana laughed and turned to the horsewomen. "Pray forgive my sister, Ladies. She has been wound up tight as a spring for a fortnight, and of course, she is going from 'acting mistress’ to 'actual mistress’ in the course of a morning, so she should be allowed a bit of fidgeting."
"Explain that term, if you will,” Jane asked calmly. “I presume you are Miss Darcy."
Elizabeth laughed. "Well, this is fun! Oh, and forget changing. Your current dress is fine."
She turned to two footmen. "Johan, Luke, pray have warm water, soap, and towels brought to the anteroom by the green parlour. We shall refresh ourselves and leave from here."
In a muddle, the three remaining horsewomen spoke at once.
"Leave, to where?" Jane asked.
"How far is the church?" asked Ellen.
"What is an 'actual mistress’?" Anne demanded.
"Oh yes," Elizabeth said. "I am not helping your confusion, and I fear, for at least one of you, it is about to increase immeasurably, so I had best get on with it. I have been acting as mistress here for about a fortnight, and I daresay I have done adequately."
Georgiana dignified that remark with a scoff worthy of Lydia. "Lizzy has such a horrible vocabulary. She thinks the words 'adequately' and 'phenomenally' mean the same thing."
Elizabeth glared but continued. "Well, then Fitzwilliam came home last night, then I bumped into him in the corridor, so we resolved all our differences, decided to marry today, and kissed each other within an inch of our lives… well… not necessarily in that order."
All the horsewomen and Georgiana just stared.
Elizabeth somewhat sheepishly asked, "Too much?"
"You think?" Anne said.
Elizabeth smiled. "At any rate, weddings must happen before eleven o'clock, so we are off to the church in Lambton. It takes about twenty minutes, so we had best make haste."
"Miss Bennet—well, Miss Bennet for another hour—have you been telling tales?"
All the new arrivals looked at a very handsome man who had walked up behind her and bowed.
"About time, Breton," Elizabeth said. "Poor Ellen has nearly faded away. Ellen, meet Robert Breton. Mr Breton, Miss Ellen Taylor."
Elizabeth observed the pair to see how first impressions fared and found that they fared well… very well indeed. Just as an experiment, she extended her hand flat and tried waving it in front of the stable master, but it failed to gain his attention. Ignoring all rules of good society, she pinched him, with nothing more to show for her efforts. She reckoned a gunshot or two pans would be required.
Just in case he listened, she said, "Ellen, I remember you from Uncle Gardiner's. I have been telling Mr Breton all about you, and Fitzwilliam has been singing your praises all morning. I assume with a month of time on his hands, my intended has filled you with stories about Breton's heroics, his daring, and hispenchant for dragging my thoroughly innocent man into trouble untold."
Ellen and Breton just started laughing, and finally, Ellen asked, "Did you really cry for a week when your favourite hound died?"
"I fear Darcy exaggerates. It could not possibly have been more than six days. Six and a half at most."
Ellen smiled the most brilliant smile Elizabeth had ever seen—and that was saying something, being sister to Jane Bennet. "Good enough for me, Mr Breton."
Elizabeth laughed. "Well, then! That went about as I expected. Now, we really do need to wash and get to the church for my wedding. We do not have all day. Breton, will you watch the wedding from outside or in?"
Ellen and Breton's eyes raised practically to their hairlines.
"Oh, sorry," Elizabeth said. "I get ahead of myself. Outside, then."
"NO!”
The newly formed couple shouted at the same time, and Elizabeth raised one eyebrow to Breton.
Naturally, he dropped to his knee. "Miss Ellen Taylor. We have only just met, but considering how wordy our common acquaintances are, I would say we know each other as well as most couples courting for some months. Your beauty nearly knocked me over on first sight, my heart practically hammered out of my chest, and while this may seem impetuous, I would ask you to honour me with your hand in marriage. Have no fear. We shall be friends. We shall be lovers. We shall be passionate. We shall be happy. I shall allow nothing else, to my last dying breath, and I believe you would not either."
Had he been able to see anything else, he would have found copious tears among all the local horsewomen, maids, masters of the estate who had appeared from nowhere, and of course allthe footmen, who were not crying, but all had trouble with dust in their eyes—probably a delayed reaction to the fire.
