“Why?”
Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed, and then tried to turn it into a cough. Elizabeth fixed on Mr Darcy a pointed glare.The only way a woman could marry this man was with the knowledge that it would not be forever.
“As a courtesy for the sake of keeping up appearances, to tell mymother the licence is had and that we will marry on Tuesday, to assure her that you will provide for me, and to tell her that whatever wedding breakfast Mary has organised will make you exceedingly happy.”
“Are we both necessary to convey this news?” His complaint was just short of being a whine. “Besides, I will go to your sister’s ball for appearances’ sake.”
“Go impress your mother-in-law with your charm and good nature!” Colonel Fitzwilliam cried.
“If that is the goal, thenyouought to go in my place.”
“Only if I get to marry the pretty Miss Bennet in your place.”
Mr Darcy narrowed his eyes at his cousin before rising and gesturing that she should precede him from the room. She suspected Mr Darcy’s severity was a source of amusement for his cousin, and the colonel’s teasing covered a genuine affection for her intended.
All of the ladies were in Longbourn’s drawing room awaiting their arrival, and with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Lydia lounged on the sofa, Mary looked as though she wished to ask the footman to throw them out, and Mary’s son sat at her feet, fussing at being ignored by his mother. Mrs Bennet had hardly allowed Mr Darcy to sit, and had not allowed Mary the prerogative of ringing for tea, before demanding to see the licence.
“Look at that stamp. And the seal!”
“Mamma, please!” Elizabeth felt herself blush with shame. “It is just a licence, and I do not get to keep it.”
“Oh, I am so pleased. Mr Darcy, I am so obliged to you. A licence! What a delightful man you are.” Regardless of his reputation, Mr Darcy was now a man worthy of her mother’s embarrassingly effusive praise. “Your cousin has come from town to see you married? What happy news. You must bring him to Mary’s ball, it is no trouble at all; we—Mary shall be glad to have him. A daughter married by licence!”
“Mrs Bennet, Miss Bennet has told me that she will make me the happiest of men on Tuesday.”
Elizabeth was proud of him; he had not even shrugged when he said “happiest of men.”
“Tuesday?Beforemy ball?” Mary’s voice raised over that of herobstreperous child, who had grown uninterested in the ball of yarn she had tossed at him. “You cannot mean it?”
Mr Darcy bowed and managed to keep his expression neutral while Mary glared at him. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, huffed, frowned, and shrugged, and all the while Mr Darcy refused to do more than blink. He was clearly not the sort of man to yield to anyone’s petulance. When it became clear he was not about to change the date of their wedding, Mary turned to her.
“Well, Lizzy, I see you are determined to have your own way! I have neither the time nor the funds to host a ball on Wednesday and also host a wedding breakfast the day before. Married women, as you could not understand, are busy creatures. You ought to have given consideration to those who maintain you before you made your decision.” Mary then rose, and left both her infant son and the room.
“No mark of attention for your sister on her wedding? Mary?” Mrs Bennet called, and then followed her daughter from the room.
Elizabeth caught Mr Darcy’s eye, saw his mouth form itself into a momentary expression of contempt, and turned away. Young William by this time had not only grown tired with the yarn, but with his neglect, and his complaints grew louder.
Their uncomfortable silence was interrupted by Lydia. “Your wedding breakfast might not have been well attended since your reputation has been that of an eccentric, Mr Darcy. It will be better for your standing to make a grand appearance at the ball as a married couple.”
Mr Darcy gave her a dark look.
“I meant no offence.Iknow Miss Darcy is not your mistress. It is only because you are unsocial, and the neighbours make up stories to fill the deficit of facts. But now you will marry Lizzy, and she is liked enough that I doubt anyone will assume the worst of you and your sister any longer. I congratulate you.”
There was a long, dreadful pause during which Elizabeth feared her arrangement with Mr Darcy would fall apart. He surprised her by calmly saying, in a slow, low voice, “Thank you, Miss Lydia Bennet.”
“Lizzy, I would be your bridesmaid, but I only have one decent gown, the one my mother bought new lace for, and I wish to wear it to the ball. We are still working on it, and I only have three days left, buteven if I do apply myself and finish it before Tuesday, if it gets dirty on the way to the church, I shall have nothing to wear on Wednesday.”
Elizabeth inhaled sharply at this unsisterly sentiment, and she felt Mr Darcy’s attention shift toward her. Young William threw himself onto the floor and began kicking his feet. “Could you not wear your second-best gown?”
“I have few gowns, and none of them new. Mr Collins and Mary are so miserly, and Aunt Gardiner is not near to pass any presents along to us. Who would be a bridesmaid in an old or second-best gown?”
“The bride will not have a new gown.” Her murmured reply was only audible to Mr Darcy, who was seated closest to her; Lydia was on the other side of the screaming infant. In a louder voice, she asked, “Would you prefer I ask Charlotte Lucas?”
Lydia cried nothing would make her happier. “The truth is, as much as I do not want to spoil my gown, I know Mr Collins and Mary do not approve of your choice, and since I am not likely to find a husband until Jane and Mrs Cuthbert take me in the autumn, while I live here, I have to appear as though I am in agreement with them.”
Elizabeth nodded and brought a hand to her chest; she felt Mr Darcy’s gaze again, but gave a brief shake of her head. This building pressure was only a trifle this time; it was not about to descend into a full bout of pain and breathlessness.
“Good Lord, that child is a menace,” Lydia exclaimed. “Where is his nurse? I will have to find someone to take him myself. What will I do when there are two children at Longbourn? Are you not grateful you get to escape in three days?”
