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Several very enjoyable minutes later, Darcy reluctantly drew back far enough to steady his breathing, his thumb brushing lightly across her flushed cheek. “We ought to exercise some discretion, my dear,” he murmured, his voice unsteady.

Elizabeth smiled softly, her dark eyes dancing. “We are to be married, sir. Surely I may be permitted to thank my husband as I choose.”

“You try my resolution severely,” he answered with a rueful smile, and he could not resist pressing one more kiss to her temple. “I will procure a license at once, for I have no intention of waiting upon the customary calling of banns.”

She leaned her head against his chest, unwilling to leave his warmth just yet. “I agree wholeheartedly, though I fear Mamma will be terribly cross with us both for depriving her of three weeks to plan wedding clothes and grand arrangements.”

“I am persuaded your mother will readily pardon even so grave an offense,” he replied, “when she considers the ultimate consequence is that she will have three daughters married in the span of a month.”

She could not doubt the truth of his words, especially when her mother considered the importance of his relatives. For her part, she thought the scheme a very good one, if the past several hours were any indication—so long as her sisters had by then returned from their wedding tours.

Chapter 34

Mrs. Bennet was, as the betrothed couple had predicted, put quite out of temper when they told her that she should have less than a month to plan the wedding. Of course, she could not object to anything Mr. Darcy said — he had ten thousand a year and an estate in Derbyshire, and was marrying her Lizzy — so she agreed. She was relieved to learn that with the gentleman’s wealth and connections, planning such an event was not so difficult a task as it might have been. It took only to mention that the gowns or food was for the wedding and suddenly time was no obstacle.

Because the banns could not be called in the usual manner, formal invitations were dispatched in haste to those who were to attend. Lady Catherine de Bourgh received one simply because Elizabeth was determined to leave no room for accusations of spite. Her ladyship’s written reply to her nephew was both scathing and vehement, and after that brief hostility, Elizabeth never troubled herself to seek a reconciliation, well content to leave the proud woman to her solitary fury.

Despite those aristocratic threats, a surprising number of the groom’s family made the journey into Hertfordshire. The Earl and Countess of Matlock, though initially disposed to look coldly upon a bride without fortune or high connections, attended because they perceived that their nephew would brook no opposition. They maintained a somewhat stiff, aristocratic distance throughout their visit, for Mr. Darcy answered to no one regarding his heart or his estate; their presence served chiefly to silence London gossip and present a united family front to the world.

Lydia was permitted to leave her seminary to witness the nuptials, though only under the strictest conditions. Mrs. Annesley was charged with keeping within a dozen yards of her charge at all times. The girl had changed notably since her departure for school. The stern discipline of her education had done much for her deportment, though it had scarcely touched her inherent vanity. The true alteration sprang from a dazzling new ambition: the prospect of a London season and a husband richer even than Mr. Darcy. In her mind, she had constructed a firm social hierarchy. Mary had married a neighbour—a respectable match, to be sure, but somewhat dull. Jane had married Mr. Bingley, who possessed four thousand a year and an amiable temper. Now Elizabeth had secured the master of Pemberley, whose ten-thousand-pound income was crowned by his relationship to an earl. Lydia reasoned that if this ascending scale held true when she finally made her bow in town, she would surely be courted by at least a viscount.

Accordingly, she applied herself with sudden fervour to the instructions of her minders, inquiring eagerly how a lady ought to walk, converse, and carry herself to attract a titled gentleman. Though she still laughed too loudly on occasion and let slip imprudent remarks, her manners had sufficiently improved that she moved among the wedding guests without causing general alarm, provided she remained within view of Mrs. Ellington or Mrs. Annesley.

Her newfound ambition proved a general blessing to her family, though she did occasionally cast speculative glances toward Lord Barlow, the Earl of Matlock’s son, reflecting upon the happy convenience of having a genuine viscount close at hand. She acted no further upon these thoughts, however, knowing Mrs. Annesley’s vigilant eye was never far away. The viscount, for his part, hardly noticed her, as he had directed his focus towards the other unmarried Bennet, who had scarcely acknowledged him since their introduction.

The ceremony itself closely mirrored the one her sisters had celebrated seventeen days prior within the parish church. The bride’s gown, however, surpassed them all, fashioned from rich cream silk trimmed with delicate Brussels lace and fastened with tiny pearl buttons. Such an ensemble could not be criticised even by the most judgemental ladies of the ton.

Those who did not know Darcy well were astonished to see the gentleman’s customary reserve and gravity all but departed from him. The rumours were true, then, they supposed. The marriage was a true love match, a rarity among those in their circles. The last they could think of was the Earl and Countess of Matlock, for the countess was but the daughter of a knight.

If anyone had wished to complain about the wedding breakfast, they would find it very difficult. No expense had been spared. Netherfield Park under the gracious direction of its new mistress, provided a setting far grander than Longbourn could ever have afforded. The servants at Longbourn, Netherfield, and Lucas Lodge had all worked tirelessly for weeks to ensure the food was cooked to perfection and no glass at the breakfast remained long empty. It was, by all present, deemed a great success.

“The horses are put to and the trunks are secured,” Darcy murmured softly, bending down to Elizabeth’s ear as the festivities began to draw toward a close. “Your mother has inspected the carriage four times over to ensure your favourite travelling rug is in the carriage, for she is certain it is warmer than any other.” Elizabeth smiled, her eyes following Mrs. Bennet as the good lady bustled about giving final, unnecessary directions to the footmen. Though frequently nervous, absurd, and overbearing, her mother possessed a genuinely tender heart. Elizabeth could only hope that now—having successfully established three daughters, two of whom were placed far beyond the reach of pecuniary anxiety—her mother might find her nerves gradually subsiding.

Taking her husband’s proffered arm, she allowed him to lead her through the crowded room to bid farewell to their friends and relations. They promised the Gardiners and Mrs. Ellington that they would write the moment they crossed the borders of Derbyshire, and frequently thereafter. To others, such as the Lucases and the Bingleys, they gave firm assurances of an early visit to Hertfordshire.

When at last they reached her parents and sisters, Elizabeth found herself instantly enveloped in her mother’s suffocating embrace. Mrs. Bennet whispered wifely advice into her daughter’s ear, uncomfortably reminding Elizabeth of the awkward conversation she had been forced to endure with her mother the night before.

Mr. Bennet discovered that for once in his life he was entirely destitute of irony or wit. Unwilling to give way to his emotion, he pressed a tender kiss to his favourite daughter’s cheek and wished her every earthly joy before his other daughters pressed in close to claim their own farewells.

These proved the most difficult of all, for a three-day journey by carriage was no easy distance. When one is used to sleeping but inches away from their sisters, no amount of money can lessen the pain of separation.

“Lord, Lizzy! You would think you were being banished instead of going to live in a mansion with your rich husband,” Lydia said, her old self rising to the surface.

Elizabeth smiled at her youngest sister. “I am glad to see school had not entirely changed you.”

“Of course it has not,” Lydia said, nudging Mary aside so she might embrace Elizabeth as well.

Last of all, Elizabeth bade farewell to her newest sister, Georgiana, who was to remain with the Bennets until the newlywed couple had returned from their wedding tour. Four weeks with Kitty and Maria Lucas had done Miss Darcy well. Instead of timidly standing by, unable to muster the courage to approach, Georgiana stepped forward and took Elizabeth’s hands in her own. “I shall count every day until you and my brother return.”

Elizabeth squeezed the young girl’s hands in return. “Pray, do not. Enjoy yourself with Kitty and Maria, for you know your brother and I will be well taken care of.”

“Indeed, we shall be,” Darcy echoed his wife. “Georgie, do enjoy yourself, but listen to Mrs. Annesley, Mrs. Ellington, and the Bennets. After all, we must not give them reason to decline my offer that Kitty and Maria Lucas come to stay with us at Pemberley this summer.”

Before she could answer, Darcy drew her into a warm, protective embrace. “Thank you, Georgiana, for helping me see sense when my heart and my reason were at odds.”

Georgiana leaned into his shoulder, holding fast to his coat as a quiet tear escaped down her cheek. “You would not have stayed away forever. Your heart would have found some reason to return to Elizabeth. I know it.”

“Perhaps, dear one,” Darcy murmured, before letting her go.