Tuesday, 12 April 1814

To myself,

This very morning, my dearest Catherine and I joined in a holy union beneath the eyes of God, although to the grand nation of England, of the United Kingdom, we have legally married and become Colonel and Mrs. Fitzwilliam, viscount and viscountess of Matlock. I enjoy the privilege now of sharing a bedchamber with my Catherine and have become very much aware to her now nightly routine of vigorous coughing. I had asked for a pot of boiling hot water for her with salt in it in hopes of clearing her throat. It helped enough to enable her to sleep, and consummation of our marriage will not be happening until she is well.

The wedding was small and private, with only the guests of Longbourn present. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley were in London and did not attend, but Mr. and Mrs. Edward and Mary Casey were in attendance, as were Mr. and Mrs. George and Lydia Wickham, much to my Catherine's dismay. Mr. John Fairfax was in attendance, along with dear Georgiana, as were Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. My Catherine wore that beautiful deep royal blue dress with a white ribbon in her hair, of which she later told me in private that her mother wished she had not worn. I thought she looked positively beautiful, as I adore the dress, and because she is my beautiful Catherine. We will stay another day before we depart for my mother's childhood home in Clitheroe in Lancashire, a home that I had grown up in, and a home where many of the brothers and sisters between myself and Timothy and Lucy had lived and died. It was the home where Timothy was staying during his own illness with Madge, so it's quiet activity will do well for my Catherine during her illness.

Mama and Father are away in Matlock, but Mama plans on coming to the Clitheroe estate to assist me in caring for Catherine until I hear word from the Sanatorium. I asked in my letter that they write to the Clitheroe estate if they have a room for Catherine and sent the letter on express. As much as I would hate uprooting her so soon after our marriage and so early into her illness, I feel it is best if the news arrives. Even if the sanitorium does not have room for her, at least she will be someplace quiet and calm, as Clitheroe is a very peaceful village.

I must close up this entry now, and join my wife in slumber. I wish to stay by her side in case her illness worsens in the night.

Yours,

Colonel R. Fitzwilliam