Chapter Thirty

The dinner at Darcy House took place the following Tuesday.

Elizabeth had been nervous while dressing for it. She felt as though her life was suddenly on the cusp of a great change, and she was not entirely certain she was ready for it. Oh, she liked Darcy—immensely—but still felt as though she barely knew him. If he were to ask for her hand, could she give it while still feeling so unsure?

Before her sister and her aunt and uncle, she endeavored always to be cheerful. She could not let them see how unsettled she was, not when they were so very happy. Elizabeth and Jane were not the only ones to make connections at the ball, for her aunt had talked with some of the matrons there and they'd found her most agreeable—and discovering she was a tradesman's wife had not put them all off, as to most, her spending so much time chaperoning the niece of Lord Disley had been seen as a sign of the earl's favor.

Mr. Gardiner had met a number of men in the card room who turned out to be the husbands and brothers of the women who frequented his business. That they could now put a face to the name of a man whose wares pleased their female relations was a relief—finding he was as gentleman-like as a man of the gentry a pleasant surprise.

Jane, of course, could speak of little else than her hope of soon being allowed to openly declare her betrothal, as well as her delight in all the new acquaintances they had made. That she would be sister by marriage to a future duchess seemed so extraordinary! Philip's sisters were determined to be charming, delightful girls whose upbringing by a mother who so strongly desired to adhere to the class system had not made them one jot less agreeable. When they had asked their brother about the lady he seemed to favor so much—and her sister—Philip said he'd been entirely honest as to their origins, and that Cecilia and Olivia had found it remarkable that Jane and Elizabeth and the Gardiners were so genteel.

Elizabeth tried not to be offended—after all, it wasn't the twins' fault that they'd been raised to believe that only those with wealth and influence were well-bred.

The only thing that had brought her much amusement between Saturday and Tuesday was learning, though a letter from Mary, that Mrs. Bennet had been vastly disappointed by Mr. Collins and Lydia. Her sister had refused to curtail her behavior to win their cousin's favor as her mother had instructed, so Mr. Collins—disappointed in his efforts to reform her wildness—had made it clear to Mrs. Bennet that he would not offer for Lydia. He was, instead, to have Mary King for his wife—though not by any choice of his or hers. Collins had boldly asked Miss King to dance at a party held by Sir William Lucas on Saturday evening, and being too well-mannered to refuse, she had accepted. Unfortunately, his lack of coordination had led to so spectacular a tumble as to take down four others with him. Three of them were militia officers who'd put themselves in the way of their partners to protect them from possible injury, and the fourth was Mr. Collins' own. Mary King had found herself pinned under him in so lamentable a position that Mr. Collins had little recourse but to ask for her hand.

The uncle with whom she resides is reported to have said that he had wished for better for his niece, given the fortune she has recently inherited, Mary wrote, but he is also much impressed by Mr. Collins' association with Lady Catherine de Bourgh. No doubt Mr. King thinks some favor may be made to Miss King when she is Mrs. Collins, with so noble a person as her patroness.

Poor Miss King, Elizabeth had thought, to be made to suffer marriage to one of the silliest men in England and the condescension of such a woman as Lady Catherine.

Mrs. Bennet had also written to Jane, and after nearly a page full of complaints regarding Lydia's "inexcusable stubbornness" and having been "abominably ill-used" by Mr. Collins, she had scrawled: Our new neighbor, Mr. Bingley, is a wealthy young man, to be sure, but he has been quite foolish in not showing any interest whatsoever in either of your sisters. Oh, my dearest Jane, I depend upon you now! You and Lizzy and your wealthy new friends—surely there are some single young men among them? There must be, for London is so full of rich people at this time of year. You are not so beautiful as you are for nothing, my dearest girl, so you must remember to smile your sweet smile at the gentlemen and remind Lizzy to watch her tongue! She is next to you in both age and beauty, and I am sure she might catch herself a husband if she could just keep her pert opinions to herself!

Elizabeth could only laugh when Jane had showed her the letter.

When the Gardiner carriage delivered Jane and herself to Darcy House on Tuesday evening, Elizabeth found her nervousness increased as they walked up to the door, but upon entering the house and being greeted so warmly by Georgiana and Darcy, by Philip and Colonel Fitzwilliam, her anxieties melted away. These were her friends—two of them would be her brothers by marriage soon enough, and the others might become even closer to her. Why had she allowed what the other guests might think to make her nervous?

A splendid meal and excellent company made the evening perfect. Elizabeth spent much of it by Darcy's side, and though having him so often near her caused her nerves to dance and her stomach to twist, she found that she did not mind. Perhaps she did not know him very well as yet, but she would come to know him. She enjoyed conversation with Darcy, she enjoyed teasing him to the point of smiles or laughter, and she felt ever so comfortable in the warmth of his nearness, even when he did not touch her. Each time he would step close, she felt the familiar thrilling zing up and down her spine, and she quickly came to realize that she liked that feeling very much indeed.

Social engagements were discussed during dinner—especially by the twins—who by Tuesday had received several invitations to tea, luncheon, and dinner by some of the young ladies they had met at the ball or their mothers.

"I do not doubt you will receive invitations to card parties and musicales as well," Lady Amelia had remarked. "Perhaps also to dinner, the theater, concerts…"

"Is there not a concert on Friday at Drury Lane?" Mrs. Hemsworth asked. "Oh, darling, I should so much like to go hear some music!"

Her husband, whom she had married only a year ago, smiled at her indulgently. "I will secure tickets tomorrow, my love," he told her.

"Why do not we all go?" Philip suggested. "We can get a box, perhaps have a few other of our friends join us—and my dear cousin as well," he added with a wink in Georgiana's direction.

"I am much obliged to you for thinking of me, cousin," said Georgiana.

"And why shouldn't I? The more you are exposed to society under the watchful eye of your good brother, the less your shyness will plague you," he replied.

"And the better you'll be able to navigate the treacherous social waters of the ton once you have had your debut," observed Lady Amelia. All eyes fell on her, and she laughed. "Why do you look at me so? I am not so near the top of our sphere as to not know how difficult it can be to be seen and heard and respected."

Elizabeth rather thought it would be harder for those who ranked below someone in line to be a duchess but decided not to speak the words aloud. Instead, she offered, "Not to mention appreciated for who you are and not just how great a fortune you command."

After the meal, card tables were set up in the music room. Georgiana, who was not much of a card player, was more than happy to oblige the company with her talent on the pianoforte. Her cousin Cecilia offered to turn pages for her, and soon after Georgiana began playing, Cecilia began to sing along softly. Elizabeth, who would play cards but preferred other games, first walked about the room in search of a book—for nearly every room in Darcy's house had them—and though she found a volume of Cowper in a small stack on a side table, she found she could not concentrate on the verses within and carried it with her to a window.

Darcy soon joined her in staring out at the passers-by on the street. "I have been wondering something since dinner, Miss Elizabeth, and thought I would ask your opinion on the subject."

Pleasantly surprised that he thought her opinion worth seeking, Elizabeth said, "I should be only too happy to offer one, Mr. Darcy. What can I help you with?"

"After Mr. Bingley was unfortunately drawn into the mess that my old friend created, Theodore and I agreed that it was only right we do something for him," Darcy said. "The talk at dinner of inviting others to share a box at the concert reminded me that the colonel and I had thought to help Bingley with his entrance into higher society. Do you think it a good idea for me to invite him to be of the party?"

Elizabeth felt her countenance brighten. "But of course! I did not much speak with him at the theatre myself, but I rather liked Mr. Bingley; he seemed a very agreeable young man. If you do not think our company will disdain the presence of a tradesman's son, then by all means, invite him to join us. But if I may be so bold, pray do not include that sister of his in the invitation."

Darcy chuckled. "Not including her may be seen as a slight by Mr. Bingley," said he. "However, to please you I will endeavor to suggest he come alone. And madam, new money is still money. Considering everyone who will be with us is young and idealistic, so long as he is as amiable, lively, and as intelligent as I have judged him to be, Bingley should have no difficulty in establishing connections among our acquaintance."

After a moment of silence, he reached for the book in her hands. On examining the spine, he smiled and said, "You selected this several minutes ago but did not long look at it. The poetry of Cowper does not entertain you?"

Elizabeth laughed softly. "In general, it does, but my mind is so full tonight that I can't seem to concentrate."

"May I take the liberty of asking what distracts you?"

She drew a breath and sighed, for a moment looking over her shoulder to where the other members of their small party were gathered in two groups of four around the card tables.

"I think, perhaps, that I am still so very amazed by all that has happened in the last three weeks," Elizabeth began as she returned her gaze to the scenery beyond the window. "My sister has reunited with her first love after nearly eight years, and we have by some miraculous happenstance made friends with some very rich and noble people—rich and noble people who have chosen to continue their acquaintance with us despite knowing we are beneath them."

"Elizabeth, pray do not speak so harshly of yourself or your sister," said Darcy. "You are beneath no one."

"Come now, Mr. Darcy… Even you cannot deny that you at one time questioned the suitability of allowing your sister to become acquainted with the nieces of a tradesman," she retorted. "The reality is that our lack of fortune and connections places us beneath even you on the social scale."

Elizabeth looked up at him then. "Yet here we are—friends with viscounts, a future duchess, and more than one rich young person. My sister is betrothed to one of those viscounts, and I…"

She paused, feeling heat beginning to rise up her neck. Darcy set the book he still held on the windowsill and reached for her hand. "And you are the beautiful young woman who has captured my heart."

Elizabeth was so stunned that she could not even gasp. Darcy's grip tightened slightly, and he smiled. "You are not the only one overwhelmed by what has occurred these last few weeks, Elizabeth. Yes, there was a time that I thought as you suppose, but it was not for long at all. My cousin and my sister spoke so highly of you and Miss Bennet that I knew I must meet the remarkable creatures you are for myself."

He paused and looked down to where their hands were joined. "You are not at all what I expected. Your passionate loyalty to your family, your kindness to my sister—even your impertinence—soon turned my idea of what constitutes polite society on its head. That, in turn, made me re-evaluate what qualities I looked for in a marriage partner."

Darcy looked up again, and in his gaze, Elizabeth saw such a wealth of feeling. He was nervous but determined, and something told her there was an emotion she had not even allowed herself to consider. "I went from not knowing such a person as you existed to wishing I had known you all my life," he said softly.

Elizabeth stared at him, for a moment unable to speak. Slowly, the emotions swirling beneath her breast prompted her to smile and she took up his other hand, holding both of his between her own. "My dear Mr. Darcy," said she, "did I not know you any better, I might think you had just told me that you loved me."

"Oh no, madam. When I say those words to you, my meaning will be quite clear."

She lifted an eyebrow. "So, you do not love me? Oh, this is dreadful news indeed, for I think that our friends across the room will be expecting us to announce our engagement after so intimate a conversation as we've been having."

Darcy chuckled. "And I will be sorry to disappoint them, unless… unless you will allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you and beg that you would consent to be my wife."

Elizbeth had not truly expected to hear him say the words—she'd only been teasing. Now that he had, she was in awe. Mr. Darcy was in love with her! He wanted to marry her! But did she love him? Was she ready to be a wife?

The answer to both her questions, she realized, was the answer to his: Yes.

Being who she was, however, she found that she could not reply without a touch of the impertinence that he had come to admire in her. "There is no need to beg, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said with a saucy smile. "A simple 'Will you marry me, Elizabeth Bennet' will do."

Darcy laughed. "Will you marry me, Elizabeth Bennet?"

Elizabeth's smile widened. "Why yes, Mr. Darcy, I believe I will."

-…-

From Tuesday to Friday, Darcy and his cousins were all of them occupied with many engagements and matters of business. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth knew, was much engaged with his parents, the Duke of Mildenhall, and Lady Amelia in planning a "spectacular" wedding breakfast—Lady Disley was determined that, like her daughters' debut ball, the breakfast celebrating the marriage of her younger son and the future Duchess of Mildenhall would be one of the social events of the Season.

Mrs. Hemsworth confided during afternoon tea on Thursday that it was already going about Town that the countess had suggested to His Grace that he petition the Court to bestow a title on Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was said that she was hoping he might be granted an extinct earldom rather than receiving a new creation.

"Lady Disley strikes me as a very determined woman," Elizabeth observed. "I would be surprised, I think, if she were not ultimately successful."

The concert at Drury Lane on Friday evening was attended by everyone from Tuesday's dinner party, as well as Mr. Hiddleston, Mr. and Miss Bingley (much to Elizabeth's chagrin), and three others of mutual acquaintance to Philip and Lord Larraby. It was at this gathering that the Miss Bennets heard of the quiet marriage of Anne de Bourgh to the Duke of Lansbury. Lady Catherine, Colonel Fitzwilliam had gleefully reported, had so displeased the duke by her indecorous and blatant attempts to surpass Lady Disley and her daughters in consequence that he had acquired a special license and left London with Anne to marry her in the family chapel at his estate that morning. Lord Disley and the rest of the family had been informed by a note from the new duchess delivered to Disley House by express.

Lady Catherine, incensed that she had been excluded from her daughter's wedding, returned to Kent in a fit of temper.

Saturday was to be the day that Darcy went to Longbourn with Philip to be introduced to Mr. Bennet and formally seek his permission to marry Elizabeth; their engagement would not be publicly announced until the marriage settlements had been agreed upon. When the two gentlemen called at Gracechurch Street on their return, Philip reported that they had not been able to avoid a meeting with Mrs. Bennet on their arrival but had carefully evaded her query as to the business they had with her husband by saying that it was a private matter. Jane expressed her relief that they had not been forced to lie to her mother.

Elizabeth had then laughed and said, "I am as pleased as Jane that you avoided having to fabricate a reason to be there, but I have little doubt Mamma pestered our father about it after you had gone."

Darcy and Philip had looked to one another then, smiled, and replied that they were hopeful Mr. Bennet would keep his word of saying nothing to his wife until they were free to share the news.

On the following Monday, the ladies at Gracechurch Street were working on embroidery and writing letters when, as the clock was striking nine-thirty, Mrs. Gardiner suddenly said to her nieces, "Oh, my dears! You must go upstairs and dress yourselves!"

Elizabeth exchanged a look with her sister. "Dress ourselves, Aunt?" she said with a little laugh. "Are we not already dressed?"

"Of course, my dear, but today is a special occasion!" Mrs. Gardiner cried. She stood and waved her hands at them, urging them to get up from their seats. "Come, come! We must get you ready!"

"Get us ready, Aunt?" queried Jane. "For what? What is the special occasion?"

Mrs. Gardiner stared at them and wrung her hands, then she threw them up and shook her head. "I can't do this! I am supposed to keep a straight face, but I simply cannot keep my countenance!" she cried. Drawing a breath, she squared her shoulders. "Lord Rowarth and Mr. Darcy, with the assistance of Mr. Gardiner—and your father, believe it or not—have arranged for a surprise wedding. A double surprise wedding, after which we would all travel to Hertfordshire and surprise your mother and sisters."

She then approached her nieces and took up a hand of each. "I have been given leave to say that should either of you determine you are not ready to wed—for it is rather sudden, at least for you, Elizabeth—then the gentlemen will not be offended. I am to say, on behalf of both, 'I will wait for you as long as you need.' I am to send word if one or both of you should decide you are not ready to marry."

For the first time in a very long time, Elizabeth felt herself moved to tears. She turned to Jane and noted that her sister had already shed a few. "What say you, Jane? Shall you get married today, and become a viscountess?"

Jane sniffled and then laughed. "Oh, Lizzy… In my heart, I have wanted to marry my dearest Philip since I was fifteen years old! I should very much like to be married to him at last. But what about you? You have only been engaged to Mr. Darcy for… well, it has not even been a week since you accepted him."

Elizabeth looked between her sister and her aunt, both of whom watched her expectantly. She'd not thought herself ready to be engaged until the moment Darcy had asked her. Was she ready to get married and be a wife?

Looping her arm with her sister's, she smiled a teary smile and said, "My dear Jane, I think that you and I really must go and get ready for our wedding!"