A/N: Correction to my last note. My reviewers always keep me on my toes. The word 'betrothed' was a real word, but it was not in common use in English literature. It was not unheard of, but not very common and JA didn't use it. Reviewers point out that it was used in the Bible and Shakespeare used it frequently, so it was just in a lull during the Regency.
The person who pointed it out was the excellent sysa22 who I like very much. Check out her stories.
This is the end, folks!
Wade
Happy for all her maternal feelings was the day on which Mrs. Bennet got rid of her two most deserving daughters. With what delighted pride she afterwards visited Mrs. Fitzwilliam, and talked of Mrs. Darcy, may be guessed. Well, actually, when you get right down to it, with both daughters off in the Wilds of Derbyshire a very long coach ride away, Mrs. Fitzwilliam living in what Mrs. Bennet was quite certain was a drafty old castle; and her being entirely too busy with Lady Catherine; Mrs. Bennet never actually got around to visiting either of them. They both came to visit regularly, so what was the point?
Her first indication that something was not quite as it should be was when she detected entirely too many people at the front of the church for her oddest daughter's wedding. She had worked diligently with her good friend Lady Catherine on the spacing and layout, and, in fact, she had to admit that the decorations had been altered without warning. Fortunately, with all the hubbub and comments of the bystanders to distract her, she barely refrained from mentioning the extra two people at the front of the church. Colonel Fitzwilliam was obviously standing up with Mr. Darcy as expected, although the lunkhead was on the wrong side of the groom; but she judged that the parson would knock him into line soon enough. She wondered that a man could make lieutenant, let alone colonel without knowing right from left, but she supposed that was why England was still at war with Napoleon after a decade. The colonel was at least wearing his dress uniform, (which quite unbeknownst to the ladies, was to be his very last use of it), so he looked quite dashing.
The presence of the colonel's elder brother at the front of the church was disturbing, but she supposed that a viscount could stand wherever he pleased, and assumed he just wanted to get a better look at the bride as she walked down the aisle. Lizzy was nothing to her Jane, but she had managed to capture a true gentleman, so there was no use quibbling.
The worst part was that Jane was entirely missing. The matrons assumed that was because she was helping her sister be certain she was prepared for her grand entrance, and would scurry up the aisle (or more likely, demurely glide around the back with nobody the wiser) into place at the last moment. It was nice of Kitty to stand in her place, since the picturesque would be spoilt by her absence. That, however, did not explain Mary's presence beside Kitty. However, since Mrs. Bennet never understood Mary, nor did she expect her to follow directions, there seemed little point in arguing the matter. She felt certain that the viscount would escort one of the extra ladies to their chair when the time came, and order would be restored. While all this was peculiar, the lady had to ruefully admit that hardly any weddings ever went off without a hitch, so all was not lost.
Her second clue that something was amiss was when Mr. Bennet entered the church with both Jane and Elizabeth on his arms. Now, Mrs. Bennet knew Jane was needed to stand up for Lizzy, and reckoned that she was late for some inscrutable reason (in fact, she found most of Jane's recent thinking inscrutable), but she decided it was out of her hands now, and it would all be sorted when they got to the front.
She spent the moments while the odd triplet walked up the aisle in whispered conversation with her good friend Lady Catherine de Bourgh, but neither lady had any idea what was afoot. They made the entirely reasonable assumption that their plans had gone very well until they were forced by necessity to add men to the ceremony, in which case all bets were off since the entire sex was inherently unreliable.
The third clue that something seriously was amiss when the extra people at the front of the church all stayed put, leaving eight instead of the expected four.
Her husband joined her with his typical smirk of a joke well played, so she asked, "What are you about, Mr. Bennet? This is not part of the plan."
It should be noted that the very idea of having a daughter well married, and the hedgerows being summarily banished from her conscience had substantially changed the lady's behavior. Her association with Lady Catherine had done her no harm either (nor had it harmed Lady Catherine, who was also much quieter than previously). There was nothing like having a full‑time human mirror to let you know how you were perceived.
Bennet said, "The colonel tells me that they have a saying in the army: 'No plan survives contact with the enemy.'"
With just a slight reversion to old habits, she said, "Oh, how you vex me! What could you mean, 'enemy.'"
"That man up there in the red coat."
Lady Catherine said, "I recommend you start speaking plainly sir, or plan to eat mutton morning, noon and night for a month."
Bennet frowned. "I hate mutton! Very well, ladies, I shall be more explicit. It all happened so fast I can scarce believe it myself. Last night after you had retired, the colonel attended me in my study with Jane. He slapped down a marriage settlement on my desk, laid a common license on top of it, added a note from Darcy and Lizzy for good measure; and then asked kindly if I would mind a slight change to today's ceremony."
Lady Catherine said, "And you did not think to tell us of that change this morning?"
"No, he insisted I keep my peace. To be honest, he looked somewhat nervous for a man who has led men into battle. Lizzy opines that he may be getting soft. I suspect he is afraid of the two of you and what would happen if he waylaid any of your carefully laid plans."
"AFRAID" both managed to shout in a whisper that nobody else could hear.
Bennet was quite impressed with the effect and wondered if they could repeat it, but bringing his focus back, he chuckled. "There, now, ladies. All is well! He is marrying our Jane as we speak, and he respects his elders. It only shows good sense, in my opinion. I admit to being slightly afraid of you myself. Now, by your leave – I should like to attend the ceremony."
With that, they all diverted their attention to the front. Jane and Colonel Fitzwilliam were flanked by Mary and the viscount. Elizabeth and Darcy were surrounded by Kitty and, surprisingly, Mr. Bingley who had sneaked in at the last moment while their conversation was transpiring."
With a hush, everyone gasped in delighted surprise as the parson began with the age-old words from the Book of Common Prayer, "Dearly beloved. We are gathered here…"
Weddings were normally supposed to occur before 11 o'clock, but that could be changed through purchase of a license. Lady Catherine and Mrs. Bennet blithely assumed Darcy would procure a Special License and would have been appalled to learn that he had simply bought a Common License for all £2 to authorize the time change. The couple had never needed to call the banns at all and had known it all along, but they decided to follow at least that part of the custom because it was a fun thing to do of a Sunday. They both especially enjoyed the pastor asking if anyone in the world had enough nerve to oppose Fitzwilliam Darcy's marrying whosoever he chose. There might have been a time when Lady Catherine would have, but since she had switched sides, it was just a joyful way to spend three Sundays in a row.
The colonel, for his part wondered why joining hands with his own battle-hardened warrior made him more nervous than facing the French, so he took the coward's way out. He bought his own license (or more to the point, got Darcy to buy it for him), got Mr. Philips to write a settlement, and presented Mr. Bennet with a fait acompli the night before the wedding.
Bennet saw the humor in the situation, as well as being just a touch frightened of Jane after reports of her recent changes in demeanor, with the apparent emphasis on the 'meaner' part of the word.
The fact that his Jane had somehow acquired a £5,000 dowry and an estate from the man who was not even her brother at the time completely escaped his notice while he was taking his amusement with sporting with her suitor. It would be a week before he realized what he had signed, and another month to realize it was all a trick by his new son in laws to show him respect since Jane was of age and needed nothing from him; but by then, the happy couple was long gone.
And so it was, that on the 13th of June of 1812 in the Meryton Chapel, the sobriquet 'Miss Bennet' changed hands twice in the space of a few minutes. At the time, nobody expected Mary to keep it more than another month or two, but it would be fun while it lasted. By carefully calibrated design, at precisely 4:15, Mr. Munson said, "Ladies and Gentlemen, please allow me to present to you, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Mr. and Mrs. Richard Fitzwilliam."
Since kissing of the bride was now not only allowed but encouraged, both grooms took the opportunity to secure their very first kisses (believe it if you like), then they joined in the office to sign the wedding registry, and the battle was over, the race was run, the deal was done.
The happy couples had spent several hours talking about wedding trips, but the destination turned out to be obvious. For years, Elizabeth had dreamed of seeing the peaks and the Lakes. Both were quite conveniently near Derbyshire, and Briarwood needed considerable attention. Since the Fitzwilliams had nowhere to live, they all decided to just stay together with the Darcys for a month or three, correctly assuming that their houses were large enough for relative privacy. Considering the lax quality of the chaperonage the Darcys had received, it seemed only fair.
They sent the steward from Pemberley to look over Briarwood and start making suggestions and left the under-steward to step into his place. With ready funds, it was expected he could make the manor house habitable within the month, and all would convene in Briarwood at such a time. Having once been a newlywed himself, the steward assumed any bed better than a rock would be good enough for the couples.
True to form, the colonel found that removing the cloud of potential future battles both released a pressure he did not know he was carrying, but also released some of the demons he had kept tightly leashed. He found Jane entirely up to the task of smacking some sense into him when he needed it and showing him loving tenderness when he needed that. By the time Elizabeth Anne Fitzwilliam joined the family, she found a very habitable and happy household, and a lifelong friend and cousin in the form of young Bennet George Darcy.
True to form, Colonel Alton proved amenable to a change of occupation, and it was not six months later when Briarwood welcomed its new steward, Mr. and Mrs. Alton. Elizabeth had wondered if Mary would be happy as a steward's wife and fretted about the differences in their stature with Mary officially leaving the gentry – or at least she did until Mary sat down with the sisters and set them straight. Mary had never wanted to enter society and found the position of a steward's wife a godsend. While it was true that she left the gentry with the change of occupation, she had no reason to repine, especially when little Anne Marie Alton joined her cousins Little Lizzie Fitzwilliam and Ben Fitzwilliam just a year after Little Lizzy's birth.
Seasons came and seasons went, life went on, children were born, and people died.
Briarwood became first a prosperous estate, and with the gradual change from agriculture to industry, eventually became a hub of a railroad, and then a burgeoning industrial center. Pemberley did the same, although since its agriculture was much better established, it was a decade or so behind Briarwood, since it was in much less of a hurry.
Mr. Bingley never left Netherfield, and in fact purchased it a year after the double wedding of the century. He became a man of quiet competence and industry, and was always on the closest terms with the Fitzwilliams and the Darcys, even before he finally, after three years of effort, managed to convince his Anne to surrender the de Bourgh name in favor of Bingley.
Much like Briarwood, the Bingleys entered the new age with both feet, and he found a very able assistant in his favorite mother in law, who lived with them at Netherfield until the end of her life, once she gave up the yoke of Rosings back to the de Bourgh family. Much like her nephew, she found that removing the weight of responsibility from her shoulders to thoroughly change her outlook on life. Lady Catherine remained good friends with Mrs. Bennet, who moved to Netherfield upon Mr. Bennet's death some years later, even though Mrs. Charlotte Collins insisted she was welcome at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet insisted that one mistress was entirely enough for one estate but was hard pressed to explain in a consistent way why Netherfield needed three.
Much as the colonel and Lady Catherine found, Anne discovered that she was not quite as sanguine with a short life of indolence and entertainment as she had once thought. Her relationship with Kitty opened her eyes to possibilities. One day, a few months before Miss Bennet's (formerly Kitty, now Catherine) wedding, the bride to be asked Anne her opinion of Mr. Bingley and was surprised by the answer.
"He is just what a young man ought to be," said she, "sensible, good-humoured, lively; and I never saw such happy manners!–so much ease, with such perfect good breeding!"
They both of course burst into laughing, perfectly aware that she sounded like Jane before she went through her brief heartbreak, only vaguely remembered, over the selfsame gentleman.
Kitty said, "He looks at you a great deal."
Anne scoffed. "He used to look at Jane a great deal too."
Not to be dissuaded, Kitty said, "You were not there. I was, and at the time, I mostly followed Lydia, but I was also a better observer than anybody gives me credit for. He looks at you differently."
"How so?" Anne asked, with more enthusiasm than she felt.
Kitty shrugged. "He looked at Jane the way a boy looks at a girl. He looks at you like a man looks at a woman."
Anne turned quite red but could only manage a squeak. "Oh, my!"
Kitty giggled, "Yes – Oh, my! indeed."
"What should I do?"
"I cannot answer that, aside from this advice that I think one of my sisters once gave the other, but I can't remember which."
"Go on."
"Decide how you will answer if he asks for something. He may ask outright, or simply start treating you in a way that you could interpret as a suggestion of further intimacy. If you have your answer worked out in advance, you are not forced to think on your feet. Lizzy assures me that can go very badly."
Curiously, Anne asked, "Did it go badly for her? I cannot see that it did."
Kitty sighed. "No – but it could have. A chance comment made by our lunkheaded cousin the colonel set in motion a chain of events that turned out well and disrupted another story that would have gone very badly. Lizzy was unwilling to be explicit with me at the time, but I suspect she would be happy to talk to you."
"Yes, I should say she is relatively secure in her position and her husband's affections now."
Both ladies laughed in a most unladylike manner, but it did put the thought into Anne's head, and half a year later, Mrs. Catherine Lucas stood up with her good friend to make her Mrs. Anne Bingley. It was no inconvenience to come the one mile between their homes, nor was it an inconvenience to ask Anne to stand as godmother and cuddle Miss Amy Lucas after she was born. In fact, that operation went so well, the privilege was repeated two years later for Miss Martha Bingley.
To either nobody's or everybody's surprise, depending on when the person had formed their immutable first impressions, Lydia Bennet and Georgiana Darcy became the belles of the ball in their first season. As predicted, they both attracted any number of suitors, as befits two such lively but well-mannered ladies. Much to Lizzy's joy, their personality traits averaged out to produce two young ladies who combined the best features of manners, grace, fashion and (much to Lizzy's surprise) an iron-cored adherence to propriety. Lydia had turned fierce, and Heaven help any man who stepped out of line.
By then, all their elder siblings had at least two children, but still, they had close brotherly relations with a Darcy, a Fitzwilliam, and an Alton, none of whom were to be gainsaid. None of the gentlemen ever had the need to dirty their hands, but they all perfected the Darcy Stare which sent most young men running to their mamas.
During their second season, both young ladies found a couple of gentlemen who were not intimidated by the stare. It was just their luck that at the time, both young ladies were under the protection of Fitzwilliam Darcy who had mellowed considerably in the intervening years, so their courtships were allowed to proceed with only minimal teasing from Mr. Bennet.
In due course, they followed the time-honored tradition and were married together in a double ceremony, at which time they moved to their husband's estates only thirty miles apart, in Cornwall, where they were engaged in the mining business. It was far from both Derbyshire and Hertfordshire, with both ladies considered to be a benefit.
In due time, both ladies, right on schedule, delivered of four children of various assorted genders, temperaments, and demeanors, which more or less matched what their sisters had done. None of the families believed in marrying cousins, so very much against the typical time-honored tradition of concentrating wealth and influence in single families over the generations; the Bennet sisters progeny ended up being the captains of industry. They ended up having far more broad influence on society than anyone would ever have imagined.
In due time, each of the Bennet sisters, and each of their husbands were laid to rest in their various family crypts according to their family traditions, and their memories were kept in sharp relief by their children, fuzzy remembrance by their grandchildren, and just a general sense of gratitude by their great-grandchildren.
In time, as the world changed around them, and they changed with it, none of those various descendants would ever be aware that their entire lives pivoted around a single expression voiced in Kent sometime in the past. All they knew was that their parents encouraged them to follow the family tradition of keeping first impressions under good regulation, and striving with all their might to gather the correct information to get to the point where they could correctly say, 'that explains everything.'
~~~ Finis ~~~
A/N: That's it, Folks. I managed to keep it just over double my planned size, which is pretty good by my usual standards.
For the stats obsessed, this makes 26 stories with a total of 1.4M words. This one has about 850 reviews, or 31/chapter which is about average for me.
My original plan had a quick ending after Chapter 12, but it felt unfinished, so I kept going. To be honest, I had no idea where it would go at the time, but that's nothing new for me.
Like several of my stories, I combined two independent ideas to get this one (at least the first part). The 'that explains everything' in Chapter 1 sat for about a year. I had another story that had Jane saying to 'continue with the second half of the conversation' and once I worked out that they worked well together, the rest all came together pretty quickly.
Not sure what's next. I'm currently toying with a story called "Brave Enough" which has some unusual relationships. I'm currently writing it in Shifting First Person style like "The Fee Entail." I have most of the story in my head, so it remains to be seen whether I'll put it to the test or not.
Until next time,
Wade