Elizabeth and Lydia's unexpected arrival at Longbourn was taken in stride by the lady of the house. She had never been appraised of the initial fears for Lydia's safety, and while the sisters in London had written to Jane to tell her all was well, Lydia insisted on being the one to announce her own engagement, so they arrived without raising any prior suspicion that they carried such momentous news. Luckily for her ambitions, in Mr Bennet's absence, no-one at Longbourn had thought to request the newspapers, and the announcement in the Times (which mentioned both betrothals) had not stolen Lydia's thunder.
Mrs Bennet, alerted by the approach of a carriage, was waiting on the doorstep to greet her daughters as they alighted from the carriage. Jane and Mary were not far behind her, each stepping forward to hug their sisters and welcome them home. Kitty had gone to Lucas Lodge to visit Maria Lucas, and was not expected home until later in the day. Mrs Bennet's effusions over Lydia's return were all that might be expected: she interspersed frequents questions about Brighton, the regiment and the joys of travelling with snippets of local gossip, leaving no opening for the subject of her attentions to get a word in. As the girls were ushered into the front parlour and Mrs Hill summoned to provide refreshments, Lydia and Elizabeth exchanged a conspiratorial look. "You must tell her soon, Lydia," whispered Elizabeth. "She will never forgive you if you keep her waiting." "I know," the younger sister replied, "but I want the moment to be right."
Jane watched this exchange with undisguised curiosity: Lizzie and Lydia had never been confidants in the past, and Jane could not recall the last time Lydia had whispered rather than loudly demanding the centre of attention. Exercising all her skill as the favourite child and bringer of calm, she urged her mother to pour the tea, while she asked, "Well, Lydia and Lizzie, what news do you bring from our Uncle's house in London?"
She was not surprised to see Lydia seize the opportunity she had given her: With more of her usual rambunctiousness, Lydia struck a dramatic pose and held out her left hand, which bore a pretty ring given to her by Captain Denny on the occasion of her engagement. "I am to be married, Mama," she cried, letting out an excited squeal. This was matched by their mother, who barely managed to return the teapot to a safe perch on the tray in front of her before she leapt to her feet and rushed to take Lydia by the hands, pulling her to her feet and into a tight hug, before twirling her about the room in joy.
"Married, and at sixteen! What a clever girl you are. Who is the lucky man? Did you dance with him at a ball? Is he an officer? Do tell me he is in regimentals! When will he visit? Has he spoken to your father yet? Oh, I shall go distracted! You must tell me everything." Eventually calming enough to allow Lydia to tell her tale, Mrs Bennet sat spellbound while the story of Wickham's dastardly schemes and Captain Denny's valiant support and devoted affection was unfolded. Elizabeth sat quietly and watched her sister, whose story needed little embellishment to be quite as shocking and romantic as Lydia could wish. Mrs Bennet interjected the occasional exclamation of shock, outrage or delight, concluding that Lydia was the cleverest of her daughters, for she had not only outwitted a scoundrel, but secured the love and the hand of an honourable officer. Eventually it struck her that Captain. Denny's regiment had settled for the time being at Brighton, and that her dear Lydia might not see much of her betrothed for months - perhaps years. "Oh, you need not worry about that, Mama," offered her youngest child, "for I shall be marrying him before the month is out. We will return to Brighton directly after the wedding. What a lark it will be tor return a married lady!"
"So soon?" cried her mother. "Surely it is not possible! We have. not even had the banns read yet, and I cannot possibly prepare all that is needed in such a short time."
"La! We need nothing but our family and friends around us, and a rather fine wedding breakfast. We have already ordered our trousseaux, and the gentlemen will deliver them in time. I am sure that with Mr Darcy's help, everything will be made easy."
Mrs Bennet was too shocked by the prospect of organising a wedding in so short a time that she did not notice her daughter had spoken in the plural. Mention of Mr Darcy, however, brought her up short. "Mr Darcy?" she asked in confusion, "Whatever does that man have to do with things?"
"Well," began Lydia, but Elizabeth gave her a sharp poke in the ribs, saying, "I think this is my part of the story, Lyddie. You must let me have my share."
"Oh, very well," said Lydia, with mock disappointment, and Elizabeth smiled in affectionate amusement before turning to her mother and holding out her own left hand.
"It will be a double wedding, Mama. Mr Darcy proposed and I have accepted him. He is quite as insistent as Captain Denny on a quick wedding, and the two grooms will be travelling here together as soon as they have purchased the necessary licenses."
Mrs Bennet's eyes bulged as she stared in amazement at the ring sparkling on her second daughter's finger. "Mr Darcy?" she gasped, "The same Mr Darcy who ...? But ..."
Elizabeth could see that a cascade of difficult questions and mortifying remarks was about to spill from her mother, so hurried to say, "Just imagine how everyone will envy the Bennet family - two daughters married on the same day by special license! It will be the talk of the district!" This prospect sufficiently distracted Mrs Bennet that she returned to celebrating the good news of the betrothals and learned to think of the rushed preparations as an unavoidable necessity. That both her daughters had returned from their travels betrothed was something marvellous. Indeed, she had often despaired of Elizabeth ever finding someone willing to marry her. That it was that haughty man from Derbyshire was surprising, to be sure - she had been certain Lizzy hated the man, and that girl was never one of put common sense before her own opinions - but she was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Before much longer, Lydia and Elizabeth had retired to their rooms to refresh themselves after their journey, Kitty had returned, learned the news and, after wishing Elizabeth a rather perfunctory and slightly bemused congratulation, had followed Lydia to their room to hear the full story from her favourite sister. Jane, who had sat in silent amazement at the news of both betrothals, followed Elizabeth to her room and sat on the bed watching her sister unpack her trunk.
"Are you sure, Lizzy?" she asked. "I know how much you disliked him when you knew him in Hertfordshire, Do you think you can learn to love him? I would rather you do anything than marry without love."
"Dear Jane," said Elizabeth warmly, hurrying over to sit beside her sister and lean her head against her shoulder, "I do love him. I love him very much. And he has told me that he loves me, too."
"Well of course he does, silly," chuckled Jane, reassured by Elizabeth's tone as much as by her words. "Anyone could see that! He couldn't take his eyes off you. You were the only one outside his own party he danced with at Mr Bingley's ball. He followed you around at Lucas Lodge trying to look inconspicuous, but I dare say it is a little difficult to be inconspicuous when you are so very tall and handsome. The gentleman's feelings were never in doubt. But tell me, when did you begin to like him?"
"I can hardly say. It has been coming on so gradually I was in the middle before I knew I had begun. But I suppose I have to date it from first seeing his lovely grounds at Pemberley."
This earned her a blow from a pillow and she and Jane collapsed on the bed in giggles. Eventually Elizabeth recovered her composure sufficiently to unfold the whole story to her most beloved sister, who listened to everything with that perfect sympathy and undaunted expectation of finding the good in others which made Jane who she was.
When Elizabeth found herself repeating for the third time how much she enjoyed time in the company of her betrothed, she recalled her manners and thought to ask Jane for her news. Given that Jane had had the thankless task of maintaining their mother's spirits at home while Lydia had followed the regiment to Brighton and Elizabeth had travelled with the Gardiners, and then had guarded the secret of Lydia's reported elopement while Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet had travelled to London in pursuit, Elizabeth did not expect Jame to have much to tell, but she was ready to lend her hear to whatever neighbourhood gossip or household news there was. Imagine her surprise, then, to find that Jane had news of some considerable import: Mr Bingley had returned to Netherfield Park, and was expected to join the Bennet's for a family dinner the next evening.
Jane, of course, was reluctant to read anything into the gentleman's return to the neighbourhood. Indeed, now that she knew of Elizabeth's imminent wedding, she spent some effort in presuming that Mr Bingley had come to attend his friend's wedding. "I was embarrassed when we first met, Lizzy," she admitted. He came to call on Papa, but finding him out, sat for some time with the ladies in the front parlour. Mama was her usual self, and dropped some very heavy hints about me, but Mr Bingley did not seem perturbed. He was perfectly polite, and accepted an invitation to dinner before he left. Now that the first meeting is out of the way, I am at my ease. I am sure we can now meet as indifferent acquaintances."
"I look forward to seeing him for myself," Lizzy commented, unwilling to raise Jane's hopes by describing what she had seen of Bingley's continued attachment during her time in London, "and I will try to distract Mama so that you and Mr Bingley might be able to talk without raising her expectations. But I will be very surprised if we do not find he is just as likely to be in love with you as he ever was."
"You mustn't tease me," cried Jane in some distress. "I do so dread to be the subject of speculation. You know I would be very happy to win his heart, but i will not do anything to give rise to gossip about him or about me. I do not expect a renewal of his addresses, for he has been gone for so long, without a word from him or his sisters. He did not visit me when I was in London. It seems unlikely his movements now are anything to do with me. Please do not try to raise my hopes."
Elizabeth acquiesced, reassuring her sister that she would let her find out Mr Bingley's intentions for herself. With only a little more discussion of the upcoming wedding, she and Jane were soon asleep.
Mrs Bennet was not a woman of much intelligence, and her capacity for invention certainly did not stretch so far as imagining that Mr Bennet might ever disapprove of anything that came in the form of a suitor for one of his daughters. As for herself, she had despaired of ever finding someone to take her second daughter off her hands. Elizabeth was headstrong, opinionated, and too smart by half to be of interest to a gentleman looking for a meek and affectionate wife. It was astounding that someone of the standing of Mr Darcy, who had shown himself to be austere and unsociable, would choose her Lizzy, but Mrs Bennet was not one to question good fortune, and whatever it was that Lizzy had done to secure his interest, she could only be thankful for it. Of course, she also had Lydia's good fortune to think of. Her youngest and liveliest daughter - the one who most reminded her of herself - was also to be wed in a matter of days. If she didn't have so much to do, Mrs. Bennet was quite sure she would go distracted!
When Mrs Bennet arose the next morning, she launched herself into wedding preparations with a determination and enthusiasm for detail that quickly reminded Elizabeth why she found her mother's attention difficult to endure. To now be the focus of her mother's attention stretched her endurance to its limits. True, Lydia was delighted to partake in the planning and thus to take more than her share of the conversation, but Elizabeth could not escape discussions about invitations, decorations, menus, dresses and lace. If the wedding was not so very soon, Elizabeth Bennet was quite sure she would go distracted!
It was not long before the neighbourhood began to visit. The newspaper announcement that had gone unnoticed in the Bennet household had been read with avid interest by Sir William Lucas, Mrs Golding, Mrs Long and several others. When news spread that the ladies in question had returned to Longbourn, it became imperative to call and extend congratulations, and perchance to garner some intelligence about how such unexpected betrothals came about. Thus the little time that Elizabeth and Lydia had free of their mother's demands was spent in polite conversation with elderly neighbours. Only their aunt, Mrs Philips, was crude enough to openly speculate that the short engagement period resulted from the Bennet girls having anticipated their vows, but clearly others shared an avid curiosity about the timing. Having anticipated this question, Elizabeth and Lydia had prepared their version of events during their carriage ride home. Both admitted to longstanding secret engagements with gentlemen they had known for many months - since the militia was billeted in Meriton and since Mr Darcy was resident at Netherfield Park - and related with clear indications of regret that each of their future husbands was so pressed by matters of business - the one in following his regiment and the other in managing his estate - that they had insisted on the shortest possible wait once Mr Bennet's consent had finally been secured. For neighbours who knew of Thomas Bennet's general indolence, it was entirely credible that eager young suitors might have been frustrated by his delays and become impatient to remove their brides from his supervision. It did not go unnoticed nor unremarked that the father of the brides had not yet bothered to return from London. Presumably he would arrive in time to walk his daughters down the aisle.