Elizabeth saw this was not a request. Annoyed at missing the dazzling spectacle illuminating the skies over Sydney Cove, she accompanied the commodore to stand just inside the French doors of the room. “Certainly, sir, I’m at your disposal.”
“You are a midwife, Miss Bennet; do you hold such conversations with your patients confidential?”
She spoke in a cold tone. “Of course, you need not ask! If you wish to disclose what is private, I’m a gentlewoman, sir;thatis enough to secure your confidence.”
Commodore Bligh was oblivious to the insult he paid her. Elizabeth sighed; she had met him enough times on social occasions to comprehend some of his character. While his manner irritated and he was brusque to the point of rudeness, she saw he was always direct in his speech; he did not dissemble, and whatever he said, he believed implicitly to be true. Through this lens, he did not understand that others may see differently; that when they questioned his direction, they genuinely did not see from where he took his stance. He demanded either instant submission to his command or considered that querying it or contrary action constituted hostile defiance. Her attention returned to his address, which was made in his normal convoluted style, of which, at the best of times, she had great difficulty in establishing his meaning.
“It was with the highest feelings of comfort and pride, on my returning Mary to England, that she could be under no guidance but my own—my heart devoted to her.” The commodore, uncharacteristically, looked away. “But I found what I had least expected: Colonel O’Connell had, unknown to me, won her affections.”
Elizabeth felt his shame in recounting this ignorance, whereas most of the colony knew of the couple’s increasing affection. She remained silent.
“A few days before we were to sail, when everything was prepared for Mary’s reception and we had even embarked, the colonel opened the circumstance to me—I gave him a flat denial, for I could not believe it. But he persisted that there was a particular reason he and my daughter should wed, notwithstanding they had a genuine attachment and that she approved of his addresses.”
Elizabeth’s hand covered her mouth. She was puzzled; she had not seen the signs— ‘twas unlike her to miss such. Mrs. Putland—now Mrs. O’Connell—was with child?
The commodore continued, “I was overwhelmed with a loss I could not retrieve; I had only to make the best of it. However, on many proofs of the honour and character of Colonel O’Connell—notwithstanding Mary’s delicate condition—having no alternative, I consented to her marriage and, as you saw, gave her away at the ceremony.
“I relate this to you, Miss Bennet, because my Mary will not have an easy time of carrying. She’s petite, her constitution delicate, like my dear Betsy, who bore me eight children but not without much pain and sorrow. I would not have that for Mary.” He paused, and Elizabeth saw both great compassion and hurt in having to relate thus to a stranger. “Miss Bennet, indeed, Idorecognise you as a gentlewoman—you care for your inferiors as is your duty, just as by my duty I always sought the best for the men under my command. But through wilful misunderstanding, little did that prevent them from besmirching my name!” He was silent for a time, letting his indignation subside.
“Normally, I do not ask, Miss Bennet, for that is not my nature. But, by God, can you see to assisting Mary through her trial? She is proud—but I have written her a letter to beread once I am gone, therein soliciting her to seek you out as midwife. Forgive me, ma’am, for placing this burden upon you. But my Mary is lost to me; she’s now for Colonel O’Connell, for God, and foryou,to protect.”
The commodore moved away. Elizabeth saw him straighten his slumped shoulders; he strode to Governor Macquarie and spoke words of approval over the evening’s sumptuous entertainments. He did not look back to Elizabeth, just nodded to Darcy as the latter approached her with a querying look on his brow. They were not yet wed, so Elizabeth would keep this secret, for now.
Several days later, Commodore Bligh made his final embarkation on board theHindostan. The next day, the shipsHindostan,Dromedary, andPorpoisesailed out from the Heads. A large contingent of people from the town went to view them, including the governor and his wife in their carriage. Elizabeth and Darcy rode there also and saw the ships put to sea with a very fine fair wind.
“I fear,” said Darcy, as he and Elizabeth returned along the South Head Road, “with Mrs. O’Connell remaining in the colony, there will be no restoration of harmony between the parties—those who supported Bligh during the rebellion and those others who were indifferent or active in support of Major Johnston.”
“You have the right of it—Colonel O’Connell will be a good deal influenced by her prejudice against any who were in the least inimical to her father’s government.” Elizabeth laughed. “But we’re much too serious! Come, let us ride to Boondi Beach—I wish to revisit the place where you so charmingly sought my hand. And, in three days, Mr. Darcy, we shall be wed!”
Darcy watched as Elizabeth turned her horse towards the beach. She was a sprite; she entranced him. But not against his will—he needed to marry, for the sake of prudent applicationof the law, but to wed Elizabeth was a privilege. His mind turned to his young sister, Georgiana; she had urged him to marry their cousin Felicity so he would remain in England. Lady Felicity was the daughter of an earl; she possessed all the accomplishments that came with her rank and position in society. Yet, she was but a child, her interests frivolous; in another year, she would have her come out. Perhaps, had he stayed, they might have wed. But, by the grace of God, he had come to this place on the other side of the world and foundher.
“Miss Bennet,” said he, riding alongside the lady, “shall we request of the governor that he grant this land to you, say, two hundred and fifty acres around Boondi, as part of your wedding gift? It is his custom to do so, to make such an allotment.”
“Oh, William, I didn’t know! What a fine idea—this place is wonderful. Thank you, I do not deserve such consideration.” She looked to him, her eyes soft and moist with tears of delight. The happiness that this reply produced was such as Darcy had never felt before. He knew he was beginning to love her, but now his affection grew so strong he could scarcely resist taking her in his arms and holding her tight in his embrace.
Chapter 17
St. Phillip’s Church, May 15, 1810
On the day before the wedding, there was such a succession of rain that Elizabeth feared the streets would become muddy and impassable. But, by late afternoon, the rain ceased, the clouds cleared, and a warm sun dried the roads, which had become firm and free of dust.
The next morning, the orphanage was buzzing with activity. Some girls had gone off, under the supervision of an assistant matron, to decorate St. Phillip’s Church. Theirs was all excitement and chatter. Others, who were competent in cooking, remained to prepare the feast—long planned and now come to pass. Many of the dishes had been made over the preceding days, the coolness of the weather aiding their safe storage on the shelves of the pantry. Several girls hung green boughs and native flowers about the Great Hall; never before had it looked so grand—red grevillea, bottlebrush, and yellow banksia adorned the walls. Bouquets of ferns, daisies, and marigolds were placed on the long dining benches and on the polished tables that stood on the raised platform where Matron, soon to be Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy, the governor, and Mrs. Macquarie, together with other guests, would be seated.
A select few, Phoebe Norton among them, entered Elizabeth’s bedroom, where she sat brushing out her long chestnut tresses. “Oh, Miss Bennet, your hair is so beautiful. Please, let me brush it—so soft and silky!” Elizabeth relinquished her brush to Phoebe. A memory of Jane sitting and brushing her hair in their room at Longbourn came to her mind. Nostalgia threatened to disarm her, but the cheerful talk of the girls banished any such thoughts. Excitedly, they openedher wardrobe and retrieved a cotton chemise. She had no choice but to let them dress her. The chemise, she saw, was embroidered with small forget-me-not and sweet William flowers around the neckline and hem.
“These are so beautiful.” Elizabeth blushed at the daring of the girls to embroider such on her garment. ‘Twas likely they would next be seen by Mr. Darcy as she undressed that evening—her cheeks and the tips of her ears flushed. Next, they unrolled some fine silk stockings which were wrapped in linen cloth. How did they come by those? They’re so expensive. But their giggling and a whisperedMr. Darcyalerted Elizabeth to their origin. Oh dear,hehad bought them.
Expertly they tied her stays and then slipped a cotton petticoat over it, held up with straps keeping it in place under her bust. Finally, they proudly carried into the room her wedding gown. A dress of delicate blue cambric muslin, gathered low in the neck and trimmed round the bosom with scalloped lace, broad at the bosom and narrow at her shoulders. The demi-train and long sleeves, both deeply embroidered, completed the finest dress that Elizabeth had ever seen.
“My darlings,” tears glistened in her eyes. “You’re wonderful. This is the most glorious gown—how your fingers must be worn from the embroidery; and the stitching is so fine, so delicate! I love you all!”
The gown was set off by a hat of azure blue satin, turned up in front, and low on each side of her face. The girls dressed her hair very full at the sides, allowing her chestnut curls to frame her face, complementing the sprinkling of freckles that touched her high cheeks and dainty nose. White kid gloves and slippers completed the ensemble—Elizabeth could only infer that Mr. Darcy had also bought these. What a caring, thoughtful man. She giggled. Would he continue to present her with such extravagant gifts once they were man and wife?Oh, she did hope so!Lizzie Bennet, you have become spoilt and vain.
A shawl, made of the same azure blue satin as the hat, she would throw over her shoulders on the journey to and from the church. Mama, would that you could see me! And, sweet Lydia, I come direct out of a fashion plate fromLa Belle Assemblée.‘Tis now my favourite magazine.
The governor’s carriage rumbled past the orphanage. Time to go to the church! The girls had already left, marching in rows of four, supervised by the assistant matrons and two of their guards. One soldier, Corporal Boyce, remained with several senior girls who kept guard on the kitchen ovens and the Great Hall. The corporal stationed himself at the door, his bayonet affixed to his musket. It was a common thing for thieves to enter when buildings were left empty or unguarded.
Elizabeth stepped onto the porch of the orphanage. In the street stood Buttercup and Lavender yoked to the cart decorated with sprays of fern and native flowers. Sgt. Monogan assisted her onto the bench; Harshita perched on the back. Elizabeth laughed.
