And then there would be nothing left to hinder their union.
Elizabeth stretched slightly beneath the blankets, listening to the faint winter wind moving along the windows.
Soon the house would stir. Lydia would burst into the corridor. Mrs. Bennet would begin another round of anxious triumph over ribbons, gowns, and guest lists. The ordinary noise of Longbourn would reclaim the morning.
But for a few moments more she allowed herself the stillness.
Life stood poised upon the edge of something new—something vast and unknown—and yet, instead of fear, she felt only a deep, steady happiness.
Nothing in the world can possibly ruin this.
Chapter 28
The day before the wedding dawned in a flurry of activity.
Mrs. Bennet had risen early and had not sat down since. Ribbons were inspected, gowns were unfolded and refolded into trunks, trays of cakes were discussed with Hill as though the future of the household depended upon their precise arrangement. Jane bore it all with gentle patience, smiling whenever her mother clasped her hands and declared that two weddings on the same day would be the triumph of Hertfordshire, if not in the entire kingdom.
Elizabeth endured it somewhat less gracefully.
“Lizzy, stand still—how can I judge the fall of that ribbon if you will not remain in one place?” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed for the third time in as many minutes.
“I assure you, Mama, the ribbon will fall very respectably without my supervision,” Elizabeth replied, laughing faintly.
“Respectably! My dear child, this is not a matter of respectability but of perfection.”
Jane’s lips curved in quiet amusement, though she said nothing.
Elizabeth glanced toward the door.
“I believe Hill wished to consult me regarding the flowers,” she said lightly. “I shall return in a moment.”
Mrs. Bennet was already adjusting the lace at Jane’s sleeve and merely waved her away.
Elizabeth slipped from the room with relief.
The corridor beyond was blessedly quiet. She paused for a moment, drawing in a long breath as the muffled sounds of her mother’s bustling faded behind the closed door.
Peace, if only for a moment.
She had scarcely descended halfway down the staircase when she heard another door open behind her.
“Elizabeth.”
The voice was firm.
Elizabeth turned and saw Mary following from behind, her posture rigid and hands clasped tightly in front of her.
“Mary?” Elizabeth said cautiously.
“I must speak with you.” The middle Bennet daughter closed the distance between them.
“Mary, if this is about the wedding arrangements, I assure you—”
“It is not.”
There was something in Mary’s tone that made Elizabeth’s breath catch. She took a step backwards, stopping just in front of the door to their father’s bookroom.
“I can remain silent no longer, Elizabeth.”
