“Thank you. Lady Eleanor tells me that you wish to spend the winter in town.”
“Yes,” Georgiana said, with sudden eagerness, before moderating her tone, “—if you approve.”
“My dear, you are now grown. You may remain in London with our family.”
In some measure, this was a relief to Darcy. He feared that it might take Georgiana a long time to reconcile herself to his altered circumstances, and a Season in London, under his aunt’s care, might do much to ease the transition. He also preferred to be alone with Anne and to guide her, step by step, into their new life together...and into marriage.
Chapter 15
The two weeks before the wedding passed quickly. Darcy endeavoured to enjoy his last days of “liberty,” as the colonel had advised him. They visited old friends and attended elegant dinners and assemblies, taking advantage of all that London had to offer. Among their acquaintances, they observed every variety of situation: marriages of happiness, marriages of indifference, men still seeking wives, and others determined to remain bachelors. It was impossible to draw any general conclusion. In the end, Darcy perceived that circumstances were as varied as the individuals themselves.
Lady Axton reproved him when he spoke of his approaching marriage. Yet, she ultimately agreed that Anne de Bourgh, removed from Lady Catherine’s influence, might become a very suitable wife.
“If it is a good wife that you seek,” she said, at the conclusion of a lively conversation.
“It is what I have found,” Darcy replied.
“You may be right,” she said at last. “Time has often surprised me. Look at Lady Carlisle.” She indicated a handsome woman in her forties, surrounded by a group of attentivelisteners. “The first time she came to my house, she was a timid, poorly dressed girl who scarcely spoke. Now she is one of the most capable women in London in business matters. Her husband adores her, and she directs several important circles. Yes, my dear friend, you may be right, and perhaps you alone have perceived the depth beneath so calm a surface.”
Darcy smiled. It could mean only one thing: Lady Axton had resolved to take an interest in his future wife’s introduction into society. He intended, in any case, to bring Anne to town—perhaps the following spring—and to discover whether she might enjoy such a life. He had begun to regard his future wife with more attention, and, as he had determined, the memories of Hunsford were now buried—never entirely forgotten, but less painful.
“I hope, Lady Axton, that you will do us the honour of attending our wedding.”
“My dear, I never attend weddings or funerals. But I promise I shall be present at the first christening in your family.”
On the evening before the wedding, he dined alone with the colonel. His cousin did not allude to the events of the following day, but his manner seemed to say, You still have time to reconsider.
Darcy did not waver—not because it would have been difficult to break the engagement so near the ceremony, but because he believed he was acting rightly. Away from London…and from Hertfordshire…he would be able to form a peaceful and agreeable life with Anne.
∞∞∞
As he watched his bride walk down the aisle, he felt assured that he had chosen well. The church was unusuallywell lit, and he could clearly see her face. The dark shadows that had once surrounded her eyes had disappeared in the cheerful atmosphere of Matlock House, and she seemed to have gained a little strength, which made her gown sit very becomingly. Once again, Lady Wharton and Lady Eleanor had succeeded; the gown, at once elegant and simple, was beautifully complemented by a necklace of fine jewels that gave distinction to her whole appearance.
They had decided upon a small wedding breakfast. Darcy promised that a ball would be given in the spring, but for the present, he did not wish to overwhelm his shy bride.
“Are you ready to leave, my dear?” Darcy asked, as they approached two o’clock.
Anne looked at him and nodded. “Yes—whatever you wish.”
“Now, Anne,” he said, gently drawing her aside from their guests, “we are married, and from this moment you must say what you truly wish.”
He perceived, however, that it would take time for her to understand that she had not exchanged Lady Catherine for another master. During the long journey to Pemberley, he hoped to convince her that her life had indeed changed—for the better.
When Anne asked him for a single favour—to allow Mrs Jenkinson to accompany them—he hesitated. He wished for nothing from her former life to follow them to Pemberley. Yet her expression—so timid and yet so earnest—decided him. He consented. Mrs Jenkinson had been a good influence and, in former years, had perhaps been the only person who truly cared for Anne. If her presence eased Anne’s mind, it would be no disadvantage.
He avoided thinking of the wedding night; yet at Pemberley, he must take the first steps. It would not be easy. He had never before been so entirely unpractised a companionas Anne. In his younger days, he had preferred women of more experience, whose manners were assured and whose knowledge of the world was complete.
He believed that Lady Eleanor had taken upon herself to prepare Anne in some degree; still, he wondered how far that preparation extended. He had planned a longer journey to Pemberley, with several halts at comfortable inns, where they might grow accustomed to one another gradually.
But, to his surprise, at one of these stops, as they walked together about the inn, Anne said quietly, “I would rather reach Pemberley as soon as possible.”
He was silent, uncertain of her meaning. Upon his arm, she suddenly turned towards him. “I am prepared, Fitzwilliam. You may depend upon it—I shall do my duty.”
He smiled at her courage and her simplicity. “My dear, there is more in marriage than duty. You must endeavour to forget all that you have known in your mother’s house. You are beginning a new life, which I hope will be a happy one. Do not think of such matters as a mere obligation.”
He spoke with the intention that she might grow accustomed, at least in thought, to what awaited her. She coloured deeply.
To his surprise, the journey proved agreeable, and the conversation of the ladies was seldom irksome.
