Chapter 48: Buffy Gruffy and the Master's Chambers

The following day, Wednesday, after accomplishing all needed tasks of securing the parson's services, arranging for a common license and seeing to it that the ladies got their new ribbon and Elizabeth had the funds to procure the fabric for her dress, I did not stay for dinner at the Bennets' home (although I was invited to do so). Instead, I returned home to Netherfield, rested and napped, and then contentedly dined alone. There is a pleasure in having things just as I want them to be, without any interference from anyone else, a pleasure in the quietness of being utterly alone besides those who brought my dishes and removed them.

After dinner, I might have been tempted to read more of Candide had the volume been at Netherfield, but as it still resided in Mr. Bennet's library, I set myself to writing several necessary letters. Indeed, there were so many, that I was not finished before I went to bed and was obliged to continue in the morning.

First, I wrote separate letters to those in the London house. To Georgiana and Lady Catherine, I wrote to announce my wedding date, to invite them to attend and to ask them to consider if they both should attend or not, given the current state of whatever might be going on with the children. I suggested that the children could remain in London, or if they thought it better, might come to Netherfield.

My letter to Georgiana was rather longer as I must admit I waxed on about my delight and how great our felicity should be to share our lives with Miss Elizabeth. I also requested that she spend a goodly amount on ribbons for the Bennet sisters and either send it hither or bring it with her, should she be able to attend. I stated only that their supply of ribbons had been sadly depleted, and I knew such a gift would be welcomed. Knowing her as I do, I had no doubt she would be eager to help.

As Lady Catherine would not share this time together with me and the new Mrs. Darcy after the wedding (indeed, I hoped that she did not plan to stay in London more than a day or two after we traveled there, not that I was not grateful for all she had done, but I wanted some time to with it to be only my own household when I had my new bride), I thanked her for staying with Georgiana. I then expressed my hope that she and Anne might join us at Pemberley, perhaps the following year.

As for Anne, I invited her and her companion to the wedding and spent some time in describing what Netherfield was like, what Longbourn was like. I did not neglect to describe the piano fortes at each residence and suggested that if she decided to attend, that she might bring the harp-lute with her.

I also told Anne all about Elizabeth's sisters and their companion. As Anne is like me, I knew it would help to have all the pertinent details, to have an idea of what to expect. It occurred to me then that I did not know if Anne would know Mrs. Pope from when she was governess to the Earl's daughters, although I could not recall if there was a particular time that she had visited the Earl's family during the period when they had a governess for the girls (she was not the same one who had served the young men) before my young cousins had died.

To Edwin, I wrote to announce my upcoming wedding but did not offer an invitation. With the normal length of posting, hopefully he would think I had not invited him hither given the nearness of the date and the distance he would have to traverse (rather than that I did not wish him to attend). I did not want to think about how problematic it would be to have him torn between paying court to Miss Bennet, and possibly attempting to secure Miss Vaughn's favors again.

To Bingley, I invited him to the wedding and asked for him to stand up with me, but also offered that I would understand if he would prefer not to do so. Remembering my manners, I thanked him again for the use of Netherfield and noted that I planned to continue my tenancy for the rest of the month.

To Judge Darcy, I invited him to attend and offered my wish that he might do so, noting that if my sister decided to come that perhaps they could travel together. I thanked him again for his advice and support.

To my housekeepers in both households, I told them of my upcoming wedding and instructed that the mistresses chambers were to be readied to accommodate my bride, although I gave no dates certain for when that would be. I was most particular in my instructions for this, telling them "I should like each chamber done up in mostly shades of yellow." Although it pained me to do so, with scissors I twice carefully snipped perhaps a sixteenth of an inch from the frayed thread on the edge of Miss Elizabeth's ribbon, and secured this fuzz with a drop of glue to each letter, explaining "This shade of yellow should inspire your selections."

I noted for the London housekeeper, Mrs. Grotburn, that Georgiana could be consulted if need be. I was confident that Mrs. Reynolds could handle the matter adequately herself.

As for the Earl and Countess (and the Viscount and their other sons), I did not write to them. Undoubtedly, if the Earl wished to know what I was doing, he would have the means of finding it out. I planned to place an announcement in the London papers after we were wed and not before.

The next few days were unremarkable, but for how much time I spent at Longbourn. Because I had no hostess, it was improper for me to host guests at Netherfield, although I suppose an exception might have been made should Mrs. Bennet be present. However, I did not suggest it, and Mrs. Bennet seemed happy enough to in her bailiwick, where Mrs. Hill and the rest were at her disposal.

During almost any protracted time at Longbourn, without fail I retreated to Mr. Bennet's library at some point to read. When I had finished Candide, Mr. Bennet asked if I liked poetry and then, after receiving my affirmative answer, handed me a copy of The Poems of John Donne. Like with Candide, there were notes aplenty. I was slowly making my way through the volume, had just begun to read Donne's series of elegies when the first of the guests began to arrive.

On Friday, the Gardiners arrived at Longbourn in the afternoon with their four children. I was there when they came and was pleased that the children seemed to remember me. There was a grand dinner then, with many guests, including the Lucases and the Longs, which the children were not permitted to attend.

That evening we did not go to Mr. Bennet's library. Instead, all the men sat in a larger room that was near enough to the parlor that I could hear the tones of the women if not what they were saying. Mr. Lucas inhaled snuff from a box once, twice, thrice and the two Mr. Longs (the elder and the younger) smoked on their clay pipes with the tobacco that Mr. Bennet supplied. When the bowls of the pipes emptied, they packed them with tobacco again. Mr. Bennet had indulged with a smaller tobacco pipe, but did not take more when it was done, and Mr. Gardiner had neither, although he was free enough with the brandy. Soon there was an oppressive acrid stench in the air that burned my throat and made my eyes water. I did not like it at all. I was obliged to drink more than my usual wont, just to calm my throat.

But even as they were indulging with tobacco and spirits, Mr. Lucas and the Mr. Longs managed to still fill the air with chatter. I found myself so bored with their inanities and soon enough could not even trouble myself to make sense of what they said. It reminded me of the chittering of squirrels.

So naturally, I was not attending when Mr. Lucas tried to converse with me and Mr. Gardiner was obliged to give me a nudge, which startled me and made me flinch. Mr. Lucas then apparently repeated himself asked me, "Mr. Darcy, do you know whether Lady Catherine will be returning to Rosings soon? Mr. Collins writes that she has been in London with your family for some time."

I had no real intelligence to impart, save that she had been invited to the wedding. I was relieved when Mr. Bennet suggested we should rejoin the women, could not help but compare how much more rational it was to spend the separation in contemplation of a book.

However, joining the ladies was not much better, for Mrs. Bennet and Lady Lucas were nattering on loudly and soon we were obliged to play at parlor games.

I would have preferred Short Answers, but Mrs. Bennet announced: "We shall play Buffy Gruffy." We were obliged to stand as two footmen began arranging chairs in a rough circle.

As they did so, Miss Elizabeth glanced at me with her dark eyes and then turned to her mother and inquired, "Mamma, how shall we play this time? Shall we be obliged to answer truthfully, falsely, or be obligated to neither?"

"Whichever any may want," her mother replied, "but certainly all must answer at least a sentence or two. No one-word answers."

As we found our seats for the first round, Mrs. Bennet noted, "Lydia shall go first."

While Mrs. Bennet tied Miss Lydia's blindfold, a large brown scarf, Miss Elizabeth (who had taken the seat to my left) leaned over and whispered, "I suspect my mother is trying to cheer Lydia; this is one of her favorite games." I had a little trouble listening to her words, for I was much too aware of how close my darling was to me.

Unfortunately for me, after Miss Lydia was blindfolded by her mother, we were of course obligated to move to different seats and this time I ended up between Mr. Lucas and Miss Mary. I would have been glad enough to simply sit and watch how the game played out, but to my chagrin, Miss Lydia ended up questioning me.

I am not particularly skilled at sounding like someone I am not or of answering like another. I suspect she knew it was me after the first question even though I had resolved to answer as if I were Mr. Lucas and pitch my voice higher.

She asked, "What do you like most about your lady love?"

A bit of murmuring ensued from that question, and I heard a lady titter (I believe it was Lady Lucas who was across from me, but she and Mrs. Bennet were mostly blocked by where Miss Lydia was standing).

I knew not what to say, was silent entirely too long. I had a choice to make then, make a false answer or answer truly and lose. I tried to imagine what Mr. Lucas would say about Mrs. Lucas. Likely it would have been easier if I could but have seen the woman in question.

"She is . . ." a series of adjectives suggested themselves, but none of them were about the slightly plump and good-natured woman I had only seen a few times. "I like . . ." I settled for saying "everything about her."

Miss Lydia's next question was "When should a man hit another man?"

This question was easy to answer, and my honest opinion came off my tongue without much effort, "When he hurts or tries to hurt a lady, or when their conflict cannot be otherwise resolved." I realized after I said it, that my voice in saying it was less high than before. I wondered in the silence afterwards, if she was thinking about George Wickham or simply trying to decide who I was.

Her final question was "What is the true measure of love?"

This question was easy for me to answer, too. "When a man would sacrifice everything, even his own life if needed. The model is how Jesus gave his life up for us all."

"You are Mr. Darcy," she told me, and began untying her blindfold even before I confirmed, "Yes, I am."

Then I was obliged to be blindfolded, with Mr. Bennet doing the honors. Then I had to stand still as the other guests moved around me. When I traversed the circle, I found myself tapping at a breach clad knee and knew I stood before a man. I was silent for a time, as I could not think of a single clever question to ask. I was silent so long that I heard a whisper to my right which might have belonged to Miss Catherine "Does he not know how to play?"

This spurned me on. I remembered that during the separation I had seen what each favored and so asked "What is your favorite vice?"

The man answered in a voice too low to be his natural register "Being in the company of several beautiful ladies."

Much laughter ensued and I had not eliminated even one of the men. Had whomever spoken told the truth or a lie?

"Would you prefer to live in town or the in the country, and why?" I recalled that Mr. Lucas had seemed to express an interest in living in town if it were not for the fact that the London air would not agree with Mrs. Lucas. The younger Mr. Long had stated earlier that he enjoyed town but was obliged to learn to manage his father's estate.

"I visit anywhere I wish to go without the need to travel." More murmuring commenced. I tried to puzzle out that answer but could not make it out while it felt like all eyes were upon me. Soon, I was obliged to ask my last question.

"What is your best skill?"

"Winning at Buffy Gruffy." I heard laughter again.

If I could have cheated then, seen beneath the edge of the blindfold or through it, I certainly would have done so, but alas Mr. Bennet had tied the blindfold too well and tight.

"You are Mr. Long," I guessed. I had no real reason for this conclusion, but hoped that because there were two Mr. Longs, I might thereby increase my chances.

"Which one?" the man I was questioning asked.

"It doesn't matter," a voice behind me murmured (I was almost sure it was Mrs. Bennet). "He is neither man."

"You are wrong," the man said, "you must go again."

I believe I grimaced then. I had no wish to continue, to now be obliged to ask questions of someone else. It occurred to me then, that perhaps, just perhaps I might be able to position myself in front of the woman that I thought to be Mrs. Bennet. I turned to my left and followed the sound of the voice which even now was making a bit of commentary to her neighbor. When I believed I was only one person from her, she fell silent. I shuffled over a bit more and then leaned over, feeling for a knee with my spread hand.

I encountered not one knee, but two, with an obvious skirt over it. I had certainly found a lady, but was uncertain yet if she was the one I sought.

"What is your family like?" I hoped I had gotten Mrs. Bennet and that she would answer truthfully.

"I have a husband who dotes on me, bought me a splendid carriage and fine jewels. I have three sons and two daughters," the woman answered in a high, squeaky voice.

I wondered if I might have gotten Mrs. Lucas and she might be answering truthfully. I knew she had at least two daughters and a young son.

I was preparing to ask my next question when she added, "My children are all grown up and what fine men and women they all are! All adore me, as well they should, and my sons are always buying me presents. What mother would not be so very happy to have such fine sons, so handsome and tall?"

I could now not recall what I had planned to ask next, but as I remained silent for a few moments longer, she continued her description. "They are splendid dancers and always get many birds with their father. My daughters are beautiful, beautiful woman. The eldest is the fairest in all of Hertfordshire and my youngest is so very lively. All the officers adored her."

While the voice did not fit, I was almost certain from her loquaciousness and the details she gave, that I had found Mrs. Bennet, and this was the family she would have wished to have. I could not help but note how the daughters she described fit her eldest and youngest, with the middle three apparently transformed into sons.

"What is your favorite thing about living in Hertfordshire?"

"The company of course. We dine with four and twenty families. There is always someone to visit and the assemblies are very pleasant. The people are so very agreeable. Our near neighbors are so genteel and so easy, have always something to say to everyone. While it should be pleasant to have more shops and public places, the country is quite as fine as town."

I was almost certain that I must have Mrs. Bennet before me (if not someone else speaking in her particular style), for the answer she gave reminded me of a prior conversation with her at Netherfield.

Finally, I asked, "What is your greatest desire?"

"To see my daughters well disposed in marriage, that is . . . I should like to see all my children make fine marriages and live all the rest of my days at my husband's estate."

Before she could continue, I guessed "You are Mrs. Bennet."

"Indeed!"

The rest of the evening, I was content to watch as Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Long, Miss Kitty and Mr. Lucas made their guesses, and I was nevermore called upon to answer or ask questions. After the game concluded, I finally learned that Mr. Bennet was the man I had guessed to be Mr. Long.

The next day, I spent some further time at Longbourn, but was a bit surprised to see nothing of the Gardiner children that day. When I commented on this to Miss Elizabeth that evening, she noted, "I believe Mamma has asked Aunt Gardiner to keep them in the nursery or outside in the gardens as a favor to you. Normally, I would help tend to them, but I believe Mamma has conspired that I should always be present with you if possible, rather than helping with them, and Mary has been promoted to the duty as next in line, sharing the duty with Jane so that my aunt can have some time in company. Naturally, it can be quite a bit of work, but I am fond of my cousins. I hope I shall be fond of the children in your home as well."

Mrs. Bennet, who had been conversing about something or other with Mrs. Gardiner, must have heard our conversation for she exclaimed, "Children? Children! What sort of children do you have in your home?"

"I told you about them, Mamma," Miss Elizabeth replied, casting a look upon me. I had the sense that she might be trying to communicate something to me, but what it meant I did not know. "Mr. Darcy and his sister took into their care a young brother and sister."

"You most certainly did not!" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed, hands upon her hips.

"They needed someone to look after them after their parents died." I tried to explain.

"Oh, then they are relatives of yours then, Mr. Darcy?" Mrs. Bennet inquired in a softer tone.

Miss Elizabeth raised a hand toward me, in a gesture that might mean stop. She then responded, "Oh, Mamma, it just occurs to me that I forgot to tell you, Mr. Darcy told me that Miss Darcy plans to make a gift to us of some new ribbon from London. Before trimming my hat, perhaps we should wait to see what she will send."

"New ribbon?" Mrs. Bennet fluttered her hands, her eyes wide. The way she was reacting reminded me of when Georgiana was a child and was presented with a new doll, for those were always her favorite and she would become so excited that she would shake.

"Oh, what if Miss Darcy sends something that is even better than what we have selected for your dress?" As perhaps my beloved had intended, Mrs. Bennet seemed to have forgotten all about the mentioned children.

"As always, we shall add the ribbon last. There shall be time," Miss Elizabeth responded.

On Saturday morning, I received a response from Georgiana, advising that the whole London party (herself, Lady Catherine, Anne, Abby and Sam), along with Uncle Judge, would be arriving on Monday and I requested that the housekeeper, Mrs, Nicholls, have their rooms prepared by then.

On Saturday afternoon, I was surprised to learn that Bingley had arrived at Netherfield, just by himself. I was not at home to receive him, having been at Longbourn. I learned of his arrival when a messenger was dispatched for me. I excused myself from the Bennets and hurried back to Netherfield to see him.

The whole ride back, I was happy that Bingley was there, that I should have my dear friend support me in such a way. It was so pleasing as I had not anticipated that he would come, given that he was sure to be subjected to some awkward encounters with Miss Bennet and perhaps her whole family. I could not help but greet him with much enthusiasm when, finally, I was there.

Bingley's hair was a bit longer, but otherwise he looked the same. Perhaps as he did not need to work during his visit, he was wearing his clothes from before rather than playing the part of a merchant.

He told me "I wrote back to you telling you I would come, but you seem surprised." I informed him that no letter had arrived.

We spent a good amount of time in conversation together that day. We did not talk much of anything of import at first, but I was much more loquacious than was my usual wont. Later, I discussed with him who would be arriving for the wedding, which led to me needing to explain about Abby and Sam and how they had come to be under my protection and what I hoped to do for them.

Bingley seemed pleased that I had taken such an interest in them, but noted "This is quite a serious responsibility, especially given the limitations that this Sam has. What if he cannot learn to toilet himself? What if he can never hold employment?"

"It is early yet," I responded, "and I am confident some progress can be made. But if he should be dependent all of his life, have I not sufficient funds to expend for his care?"

Bingley owned that I did, but also noted, "Balancing all of your responsibilities, including what you now owe them and also now gaining a bride, why it would be a lot for anyone. Usually, the children come after the marriage and not before it, although it shall be up to you how much you treat them as your own."

I told him I was glad to have his support on the matter and explained how well my bride to be had reacted when I told her about becoming their guardians of a sort, but that she had not been eager for her mother to know about them.

"As much as I hesitate to say it," Bingley lowered his voice to a whisper, "I fear that some may think them to be your natural born children." This was not a thought that had occurred to me before and we spent some time in discussing it later when we walked outside, but truly there was nothing to be done about it.

We dined together that night, just the two of us, and afterwards in the modest library (upon whose shelves I had put a few books I had acquired in Meryton), Bingley told me about what had become of "Miss S." explaining, "I am sure your cousin must be anxious to have word of her, but my sister thought it would be better for such news to not come through a letter." I listened intently, but it soon became apparent that Bingley knew far less than I did, explaining little more than detailing that Miss Bingley had brought her to her connection and she had been relocated after that, and "by now she should be settled and employed at a position suitable to a gentlewoman."

It was so very tempting to tell Bingley what I knew, almost a compulsion. However, I forced myself to hold back the words that desired to spill out, remembering what I had promised Mr. Bennet and Miss Elizabeth. When he was finished, I asked him "Should I write to tell the Colonel of this, or does Miss Bingley think I should refrain from saying anything until I see him in person? I shall be back at Pemberley in perhaps a fortnight."

"I believe you may write to him. Caroline did not want any connection made to her, to have me linked somehow with her activities, should I have written to your cousin and the correspondence somehow fall into the wrong hands. I think it unlikely that such could occur, but you truly know nothing of where Miss S. is now, so all should be well."

When it was time to turn in for the night, Bingley asked which room was to be his for his stay. I, naturally, indicated he should have the master's chamber again (for I was still staying in the room farthest away from the rest). This seemed to distress him, "Surely you should be in that room, with its adjoining mistress's chamber. If you plan to stay here after the wedding for the time, she and you must have those chambers."

"I am a creature of habit and most content with my current room." I tried to explain, "There are so many changes coming to me, I cannot bear any more. Where I am now is familiar, safe, quiet."

"But surely if you made the switch now, you would be more or less accustomed to the master's chamber by the time of the wedding."

While his words had a surface logical appeal, the idea of such a change was so troubling that I did not even want to consider what he said. Apparently understanding that trying to convince me now was a futile cause, Bingley told me "Very well, I shall sleep there tonight, but please, just consider the matter further. On the 'morrow, I should like to discuss this with you again."

I made some grumbles about never changing my mind and insisted, "Just let me be."

Bingley rejoined, "As much as understand why this is difficult to you, what you wish to do is simply not done. It would be an affront to your new wife to either house her in the mistress chambers so far from you, or to expect her to accept a humble room near your own and for the servants to know when you are visiting her."

I was unwilling to consider, at least at that moment, that Bingley might be right and stubbornly stared away from him. I shouted, "I decide! My choice!" I forced myself to take a few breaths which felt harsh and burned at my throat. I did my best to speak at a reduced volume, when I added "If you wish to interfere so, perhaps you should not have come."

"I am trying to be helpful." Bingley's voice was calm, soothing even. "As much as right now you may not want my particular kind of help, it is the sort of thing a true friend does for another. Just . . . give yourself time to think it through, to be logical. Give it a day or two."

I refused to look at him or say anything else, but neither did I demand that he leave or leave the room myself.

"If I have to," Bingley told me in an even tone, "when the party from your London house arrives on Monday, I shall enlist your sister's aid in bringing you around to my point of view, for I am quite certain that Miss Darcy shall agree with me. And, although I have yet to meet her, from what you have told me of her, I expect Lady Catherine would also agree and be quite tenacious in carrying her point."

At this last comment, I hurried from the room, slamming the door behind me, taking a kind of joy it the harsh sound it made. I clomped loudly all the way back to my room. When I was alone, I yelled, "I can do what I want! I am the master in this house. It is not his concern. I decide! My decision, my decision, my choice, my choice." I carried on like this for several minutes, pacing back and forth, working myself up further.

Then, although the sky was beginning to darken as the sun sank in the sky, I went outside and had my horse saddled. I strode back and forth before the stall in great agitation when the stable hand could not get my mount prepared fast enough.

I had not a kind word for him as I mounted and exited the stable. I rode out of there so quickly, that my stallion barely had begun to trot before I had him at a gallop. The feel of the horse moving under me, the need to grip his back and move with him, the wind whipping through my hair, was all somewhat helpful. But it was only when my horse was in full lather and puffing, and I could not get him to keep up such a punishing pace, that my anger had eased somewhat.

I turned him around then and let my horse walk back in the direction of the Netherfield stable at his own pace. Although it seemed to me that the ride out had only taken a few minutes, the sky was full black by then and I did not arrive back at the stable for a full two hours. This time let me think and I had begun to consider the possibility that Bingley might not be fully wrong, by the time I went to bed.

On Sunday morning, Bingley and I were cordial to one another, but did not discuss the matter further. We attended church (on this occasion we sat with the Lucases, upon Mrs. Lucas's invitation). I missed being beside Miss Elizabeth but consoled myself that come the following Sunday we could sit together every time away from her family, for by then we would be married.

Naturally, Mrs. Bennet invited us to dinner at Longbourn. While I accepted, Bingley declined most politely, noting "While I thank you for the offer, I have correspondence that cannot be delayed." I was almost certain he had refused so as to not have to be in company with Miss Bennet, but I understood.

Monday morning, the missive from Bingley arrived by post which was to have informed me of his arrival. Although it was far too late to serve its purpose, I enjoyed seeing how smooth his left-handed script was now and reading about his joy that he was that I was getting to marry "the lovely and intelligent, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, a woman well-worth pleasing." He also called me "the most fortunate of men." Perhaps these were mere platitudes, but in that moment, it made me reflect back upon Bingley's suggestion that I should occupy the master's chamber, so that Mrs. Darcy could most properly be located in the adjoining mistress's chamber.

Bingley had vacated the master's chamber the morning after his arrival and had directed Mrs. Nicholls to have the chambers readied for "the Mr. and Mrs. Darcy" (she obeyed his orders, apparently still considering him to be her master). Therefore, the only thing delaying me from taking occupation of the master's chambers was my own stubbornness.

The idea that I might disappoint "a woman well-worth pleasing" and immediately upon the beginning of our marriage, did not seem to be a worth a risk. And once I made this decision, it seemed worth avoiding any delay, and Bingley talking to Georgiana. Therefore, I ordered my effects relocated, and mentioned this to Bingley that morning when we had breakfast together.

Later that morning I rode to Meryton while Bingley called on some of the families that he had become friendly with during his time at Netherfield. I bought two books and then visited the nicknackatory.

Mr. Hill waited on me and expressed his pleasure in hearing from his mother that I was soon to be wed. He also told me about some of the children who had received toys due to my bounty. It made me feel fine indeed and I pressed some additional funds into his hands, while also resolving to myself that I should certainly do something similar when I returned to Derbyshire.

I then perused Mr. Hill's wares and ended up buying some toys for both the children who were under my care, including a large rocking horse which I thought might be large enough to accommodate Sam if his knees were well bend, and a couple of items for the Gardiner children. I arranged to have them delivered as I certainly had no room upon my horse to take them with me. Most of the toys, of course, came to Netherfield and to my pleasure they arrived well in time for them to be placed in the nursery before the children's arrival. I was hopeful that Sam might show some interest in the hoops, once I showed him how to use them, and if there was enough wind, I wanted to show them how to fly kites.

The whole London party arrived later that day. Having become accustomed once again to much quiet in that home, it was a change to be sure to have Anne and Georgiana at the piano forte, to have my aunt and uncle eager to converse with me (and with each other), and to have a full table at dinner.

I thought my complement of guests was complete then. However, there was an unexpected arrival on Tuesday morning, two days before the wedding.