"Do you require anything else, Mrs. Darcy?" Violet asked. She had already run her lady a bath, helped her into her gown, and pinned up her hair.
"Is there anyway to keep me from grinning like an idiot?" Elizabeth asked glowing at her own reflection from her seat at the vanity.
"No, ma'am. I'm afraid that your face is stuck that way. It might be permanent," the maid said apologetically while clasping the lavish necklace.
"Well, then. You are no good to me at all," she said warmly. The sleeves of her dress and the long gloves successfully hid the bruises and bandages. The battered shins and skinned knees would go completely unnoticed under her skirt. As long as no one paid too close attention when she walked or sat down they would never suspect that her left hip and more than a few ribs were nearly the same blue/green as her dress. Her face would be the only give away, she decided. The swelling had decreased dramatically but the shadow under her eye and across her cheekbone seemed to have darkened.
"You look beautiful, Mrs. Darcy," Violet stated noticing her lady's scrutiny. Just then there was a soft knock on the door, and a second later Mr. Darcy walked into his wife's dressing room. This wasn't something Caroline's former maid was used to. People, especially gentleman, almost never called on that lady in her bedroom. And, no one ever waltzed in without waiting for her response. Elizabeth wasn't ever bothered. In fact, if it was possible, her smile widened.
"Lizzie, you look perfect. Absolutely gorgeous!" He walked up and kissed her neck, gently resting his hands on her shoulders.
"I know," she said breezily leaning back against him. "Violet already told me."
"Violet, this is unacceptable!" he said gravely. "You are not allowed to compliment my wife until I've had the opportunity. I shan't be outdone." Both young ladies laughed at this, but he didn't mind one bit. Just being able to call Elizabeth his wife was well worth being laughed at. Violet barely recognized Mr. Darcy anymore. When he was around Caroline, he always seemed so dark and foreboding. This seemed like a different man entirely.
When another knock was heard at the door, Elizabeth casually called, "Come in," before her maid could take two steps in that direction. Her new employer was practically a different species from her former one.
In an instant the room was filled with ladies, all smiling and giggling in excitement. Elizabeth leapt out of her seat, wincing for an instant when she bumped her knee against the chair. She waved off everyone's concern and began greeting her guests.
"I'm afraid I will make my retreat as I am vastly out numbered," announced Darcy. "I will return with reinforcements to escort everyone downstairs." With his exit, all the ladies spoke at once.
"Ladies, calm down!" shouted Elizabeth happily. "Violet, I proudly introduce my sisters. You know Georgiana, of course. And, this is Jane, Mary, and Kitty Bennet." Her sisters bowed their heads one by one in greeting. "And, my very dear friend, Charlotte. Excuse me," she corrected, "Mrs. Collins."
"You're forgiven, Mrs. Darcy," the lady replied pointedly.
"Oh, Lizzie! That sounds so strange!" burst Kitty.
"I can't believe you're not a Bennet anymore," said Jane clasping her sister's hand.
"You'll be exchanging the moniker soon enough, too," reminded the youngest of the group.
"The 'Miss Bennets' of the world are now an endangered species," commented Mary mournfully, but the smile never left her face.
"What's all this nonsense? I'm still my father's daughter," the new Mrs. Darcy contested. "I'll always be Bennet. In here," indicating her heart.
"Just a little better dressed now," added Mary.
"And, what's wrong with your dress? You look beautiful," Elizabeth fired back.
"Of course you like it. It used to be yours!" All the ladies erupted in laughter.
"And, you wear it almost as well as I did."
"You might not snag yourself a 'Darcy'," said Georgiana playfully, "but I think you're more than qualified to catch another fine gentleman." A deep blush crept into Mary's cheeks as her sisters went on with their good natured teasing. She was grateful when Mr. Darcy returned announcing that most of the other guests had arrived.
"My troops are assembled in the hall," he said nobly, "where we patiently await your arrival." He disappeared and the women flew into a tizzy, excitedly straightening skirts and pushing around locks of hair that wouldn't cooperate.
"Lizzie!" Mary said in a panic. "I've promised Mr. Sage my first dance! What will I do?"
"You'll dance," her sister replied cheerfully. "It isn't all that frightening."
"But I'm not a very good dancer. I always sit out the first few rounds. And, even then hardly anyone asks me," She squeaked, for once acting her age.
"He's already asked you," pointed out Jane. "That's half the battle won!"
"Any man who secures a partner a day in advance is surely more interest in that particular lady rather than the dancing," said Charlotte kindly.
"Perhaps, if you should tire of dancing," suggested Violet timidly, "you might propose a stroll in the garden instead."
"Isn't it a bit improper?" asked Jane skeptically.
"It's romantic!" gushed Georgiana.
"It's not fair!" pouted Kitty.
"My sister sends me terrible books," explained Violet. "Mostly French novels…"
"I think it's an inspired idea," Elizabeth broke in. "I can't manage much dancing either. A turn about the garden would be a perfect substitute." She then thanked her maid graciously and informed her that she needn't wait up. "Alright, Ladies. Fall in!" As the women filed out, Violet sank onto a bench. This new position would definitely take some getting used to.
Like ducklings Elizabeth led them out of the small room and into the hall to meet their escorts. Mr. Gardiner stepped forward to take his young niece, who was still sulking. Colonel Fitzwilliam offered his arm to his cousin, while Mr. Collins brusquely steered his wife toward the stairs.
As the crowd thinned, Mary finally noticed Mr. Sage. Looking back and forth between Elizabeth and Jane, she soon realized that he was there for her! She ricocheted from excitement to fear and back again in a matter of seconds. Jane smiled encouragingly as she let Bingley lead her away, but it didn't help much. If not for a strategic shove from her sister, Mary might have stayed rooted to that spot all evening. Perhaps their mother's nervous fits really were hereditary.
She took the arm Mr. Sage offered, but didn't dare to look at him. Instead she focused on remembering how to descend stairs, an action that suddenly seemed very tricky. Mary decided that she could look at him when she was safely on the ground floor.
Now all that remained were the bride and groom. Elizabeth stood before him taking his right hand in both of hers. His left hand found her cheek, careful to avoid the angry discoloration that tainted her lovely complexion.
"I will heal, Darcy. I won't be disfigured forever," she said, trying to make light of it. "Both my doctors told me so."
"That wasn't what I was thinking," he smiled, shaking his head. "Not even close."
"What were you thinking then?" She looked down in embarrassment and pressed her forehead to his chest.
"You're beautiful. And, you're mine. And, I'm lucky." He lifted her chin to find her smiling again. "I'm not sure I want to share you with an entire ballroom tonight."
"You should have told me that before I got out of bed."
"Or, at least before you'd gotten dressed…"