Despite Elizabeth's reassurances, Mr Bennet was far from easy. She told him as much as she could, without breaking confidence, even went so far as to indicate there had been some expression of his regard at Hunsford, and that she had blindly and cruelley dressed him down. Mr Bennet felt that his daughter was well within her rights on that score but she insisted,
"Trust me, Papa. We were very wrong about him. He is discrete, and shy. He might have put in more effort but he never deserved such cruel judgement in Meryton."
He patted her hand, trying to appease her but clearly unconvinced. "That he values you, speaks highly of him, Elizabeth. That he would humble himself to win you, speaks highly of his regard. But he is a man used to getting his way. He has set his heart on you and will do anything to achieve his goal. What then, once he has won it?"
"You know him to be serious and honourable, believe him to be proud, but suspect I am sport to him?"
"No. I have no doubt of his sincerity."
"He has shouldered the responsibility of a younger sister and a great estate since for over five years. He deserves the benefit of the doubt. There is no one less likely to rush in an unconsidered alliance. Mr Bingley's friendship, Colonel Fitzwilliam's loyalty, his sister's admiration, all speak volumes of his character, but if not theirs, surely you can trust my own judgement."
Mr Bennet held up his hand to stop her there. "I am not going to refuse consent Lizzy, I just want to be certain that you are going into this with your eyes open."
She sighed. "I know there will be difficulties. Surely every marriage is entered into with some level of naivete. I cannot be entirely prepared but..." It felt so unnatural to speak to her father of intimate feelings.
"Yes?"
"He is dear to me, Father. Please be kind to him."
He nodded. "Send him in when he gets here."
Elizabeth agreed and left Mr Gardiner's office. She closed the door and leaned back against it with a frustrated sigh.
The clock chimed and she realised the time. She must dress for dinner and compose herself.
Mr and Mrs Bingley arrived early. Jane left her husband to the Gardiner's conversation anf went in search of Elizabeth.
She was dressed and ready, sitting at the glass, willing calm on the tempest in her mind and the effervescence in her heart.
"Is everything all right Lizzy?" Jane entered when there was no reply to her gently knock.
Elizabeth turned, surprised, "Oh, Jane. Yes, everything is fine. Why do you ask?"
"No particular reason. Is Papa displeased with your choice?"
Elizabeth sighed. "In a way, of course. I cannot claim surprise. I only wish I had never spoken so harshly of Mr Darcy. No trouble is so difficult as when it is of your own making."
"You were justified in your beliefs, Lizzy, just as Papa is in his. He is only concerned for your welfare. Once he sees you and Mr Darcy together, he will realise the depth of your regard, and Mr Darcy's. Give him time."
Elizabeth nodded, stood. "Shall we go downstairs. They will be here soon."
"Don't worry. Papa was not very frightening when Charles asked for permission."
Elizabeth continued on down the stairs, without a reply, letting Jane follow as she wished.
After a polite but brief greeting, Mr Darcy was shown to Mr Gardiner's library. Elizabeth watched him, wishing she could speak with him privately before the meeting. She wished to reassure him. This ritual, that she had never once questioned before, suddenly seemed like an unnecessary song and dance. Mr Bennet had given his permission. Why must her fiance submit himself to this?
Elizabeth followed the others through to the drawing room. She was distracted to the point of being impolite but no one called her on it. Surely they had been in there for half an hour, even an hour. Elizabeth looked at the clock on the mantle and found only a few minutes had passed.
"Excuse me for a moment," she murmered, standing, and escaped to the hallway. Pacing up and down the corridor seemed to abate some of her nerves.
Some time later, Mr Darcy exited the library. He carefully closed the door, sighed, ran his fingers through his hair. Elizabeth stood stock still, at the other end of the hallway, watching him.
He seemed to shake himself, force his shoulders back. Then he saw her and smiled. He nodded and took one step toward her. She arrived at the same place, at the same moment, and took hold of his hands.
"What did he say?" she asked.
"He gave his consent."
She shook her head, "But what did he say?"
He sighed. "He has concerns, he made that clear. But we will prove them unwaranted. He gave his consent, Elizabeth." He touched her chin. "Is it my turn to cheer you up?"
"You don't deserve to be interrogated. He told me we had his consent this afternoon."
"Really? We should have arranged a secret signal. I would have felt better knowing that before I went in."
She smiled, sighed. "You are right. He gave his consent. We will be happy. We are happy."
"And we will win him over with the Pemberly library."
"The one in town will do it."
"Well, then." He placed her hands on his arm and turned her toward the drawing room. "we have an engagement to announce."
"To who? Everyone here knows."
He stopped walking. "Indeed. I suppose there's little need to go in."
"I do not think Papa will look kindly on finding us alone in the hall."
"Where shall we go then?" He stepped toward the door.
"Fitzwilliam!"
"I know. But one day soon, I will whisk you away from the crowds and have you entirely to myself."
Her voice faltered, looking up at the undisguised desire in his eyes.
"Tonight I will resist."
Oh, how she wished he wouldn't.
"We'd better go through."
She nodded, still not trusting her voice, and let him lead her into the drawing room.
Georgiana expressed admiration for the simplest of patterns, when browsing for her own gown, but recommended exquisite and lavish works of art to Elizabeth. In turn, Elizabeth hovered over images of simpler styles for herself and encouraged Georgiana toward something a little more extravagent than the girl would usually dare order.
In the end they talked oneanother more exquisite fabrics and designs a little more daring than either would have chosen without the others' influence. They left the dressmakers in a happy combination of excitement and anxiety.
After a fitting, early in the week, and the dresses were delivered to the Darcy's on the eve of the ball. Jane and Elizabeth would call on Georgiana, and pick up Elizabeth's dress, at once.
Georgiana met them at the door, and without a pause for refreshments, led her soon-to-be sisters up to her private sitting room.
The two new dresses hung from a screen, delicate, dusky tones of silky fabric caught the morning light beautifully.
Jane and Georgiana went forward, reaching out to touch and admire the gowns before them. But Elizabeth held back. She'd never had a dress like this. Ever. But this was her life now. She felt like an imposter. For a moment she felt undeserving, and a moment later a kind of pride in poverty. All her life she had made a little go a long way, taken simple things, simple dresses, and made them work, even if it required making them over. No, she would not let these seductive trappings define her.
Jane turned to her and she stepped forward to see the dress. It was so beautiful.
A beautiful dress, a beautiful home, would not define her. She might hope it would not change her, but she knew that could not be. Change was inevitable. She determined to enjoy the beauty and luxury. Soon this would be just where she belonged, no matter how out of place she felt at this moment. In a couple of months she would be married to Mr Darcy. That fact was far more arresting but the dress brought it home again.
"I think we chose rather well, don't you?" Georgiana smiled.
Elizabeth nodded. "I don't know what to say."
"Put it on." Jane suggested.
"Oh, no. I want to wait till tonight."
"William is going to just melt." Georgiana clapped her hands together, laughing. "Shall we take tea?"