Elizabeth looked up at him with an awe that made his chest ache. “You planned all of this. You arranged it all so that I would not have to be married without them.”
“I could not give you your father’s blessing or your mother’s tears or the familiar rooms of Longbourn. But I could give you this.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled again. She rose on her toes and kissed him—briefly, with complete disregard for the fact that Henderson was very likely somewhere nearby.
“Tomorrow,” she whispered, “I am going to be insufferably happy.”
“I am counting on it.”
The seventeenthof December dawned cold and bright.
Darcy woke early, dressed carefully with Thornton’s steadfast assistance, and stood before the mirror. He appeared, he decided, more certain. More ready.
He crossed the square to Matlock House for the last time as a single man.
The house was already alive with activity. Georgiana met him in the entrance hall, her eyes shining, and embraced him without a word. Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared at the top of the stairs and gave him a nod of solemnity before ruining it with a grin. Lord Matlock signaled that the summons Darcy requested had been sent.
Elizabeth wokeon the morning of her wedding to see Jane sitting on the edge of her bed, watching her sleep with a look of such tender relief that Elizabeth felt tears prick at her eyes before she was fully awake.
“You are still here,” Elizabeth said. “I was afraid I had dreamt it.”
“I am still here.” Jane squeezed her hand.
Mary appeared from the adjoining room carrying Elizabeth’s new ivory silk gown with great care. “Annie has already pressed it. And you should see the roses.Lady Matlock sent to the hothouse first thing this morning.”
Annie arrived with hot water, and the three sisters fell into the leisurely routine of shared preparation, Jane arranging Elizabeth’s hair. At the same time, Mary set out the accessories Lady Matlock had pressed upon Elizabeth over the previous weeks—pearl earrings, a delicate bracelet, and white gloves of the softest kid leather.
They were thus occupied when a knock at the chamber door interrupted them. Jane opened it, expecting Mrs. Morrison or perhaps Georgiana.
Instead, Mrs. Madeline Gardiner stood in the doorway, her eyes moving rapidly around the room until they found Elizabeth.
“Aunt Gardiner!” All three girls squealed, sounding insufferably like their mother. Elizabeth crossed the room in three steps. Her aunt met her halfway, embracing her until Elizabeth felt completely like herself again.
“My dear girl,” Mrs. Gardiner said. “You have given us the most dreadful fright.”
“I am so sorry, Aunt. I could not—there was no way?—”
“Hush.” Mrs. Gardiner held her niece’s chin and examined her thoroughly. Whatever she found there satisfied her. “You look happy. Are you happy?”
“Incandescently,” Elizabeth said.
Her aunt released a steadying breath. “Then I forgive you.” She looked at the wedding gown, the roses, Jane and Mary already dressed in their best. “Lord Matlock sent Edward a most mysterious summons. We arrived with no idea why we had been called, and your Mr. Darcy explained everything. I amastonished. Your letter after the assembly said you hated him.”
“Oh, but I did, Aunt. However, I did not yet know him. Now that I do, there is not another man in the Kingdom who would capture my heart.”
A knock at the door produced Mr. Gardiner himself, who looked in briefly. “I shall not intrude long,” he said. “I only came to tell you, my dear Lizzy, that Mr. Darcy has done me the honor of asking me to give you away.” His voice was strong, though his eyes glistened. “I am very grateful for the privilege.”
Elizabeth could not speak. She crossed to him and kissed his cheek, and he patted her hand once before withdrawing with the tactful brevity of a man who understood that this moment belonged to the women in the room.
Mrs. Gardiner sank into a chair. “Pemberley.”
Elizabeth blinked. “I beg your pardon?”
“I grew up in Lambton, Lizzy. Not five miles from Pemberley.” Her aunt smiled. “I know that estate. The house, the grounds, the woods, and the stream. It is the most idyllic place in England. You will walk those paths every morning of your life and never tire of them. And the library, I understand, is extraordinary.”
“Two floors,” Elizabeth said. “Over a thousand volumes.”
“Only one thousand?” Mrs. Gardiner laughed.
