A pang of guilt and apprehension sliced through him at the thought of telling his family. He had shielded them from the truth for so long, out of hope that Westing might have been mistaken. But now, it seemed he had no choice. He would have to call onLord and Lady Matlock to bring them into his confidence. And eventually, he must tell Georgiana.
He stood, the decision made, and extended his hand to the doctor. “Thank you. I will make the necessary preparations.”
As the doctor departed, Darcy remained in his study, the room feeling colder and more oppressive than before. He walked to the window, staring out at the bustling streets of London, feeling a profound sense of isolation despite the throngs of people below.
“Now, Mary, you mustthink of when you leave the church. Oh, pish-posh, do not look at me that way. This bonnet will set off your face—you know your cheeks need a little… setting off. Lizzy, what do you think of this lace at the edge?” The table before them was cluttered with fabric swatches, ribbons, and lists of wedding necessities, each item a reminder of the rapidly approaching nuptials of Mary and Mr Collins.
Elizabeth glanced at the bit of frippery her mother held up, her thoughts elsewhere. She forced a smile, her head nodding mechanically. “Yes, Mama, it is lovely.”
“Indeed, it is. Just wait until Mrs Long sees you in this, Mary. Now, what do you think of this satin? Jane, you too—I should like to hear what you think as well, and Lizzy?”
Elizabeth examined the fabric, running her fingers over the smooth material. “It is quite lovely, Mama. I think it would suit Mary very well.”
Mary smiled faintly, her posture prim and proper. “Thank you, Lizzy.”
Mrs Bennet nodded, satisfied. “And the veil? Should it be lace or something simpler?”
Jane leaned in. “Lace, I think. It adds a touch of elegance.”
“Yes, lace it is,” Mrs Bennet agreed, smoothing the fabric with a satisfied nod. “We want everything to be perfect for Mary’s special day. Mary’s wedding is only the beginning, after all.”
Jane tilted her head. “What do you mean, Mama?”
“I mean, my dear, that it is only natural for a mother to think ofallher daughters being happily settled. Mary is the first, but you and Lizzy will soon follow in her footsteps.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened. “Mama, you cannot be serious. Jane and I are not even engaged.”
Mrs Bennet waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, but it is only a matter of time. You must also think of your own wedding attire. Of course, you, dear Jane, and especially you, Lizzy, must think of something grander than what is fitting for a parson’s bride.”
Jane blushed and looked down, her cheeks pink. “Mama, we should focus on Mary now.”
“But we cannot leave these things for the last minute, my dear! After all, Mr Bingley may propose any day.”
Lydia, sprawled in a chair with Kitty, scoffed. “Oh, Mama, Lizzy and Jane are not thinking of weddings. They are too busy pretending to be serious. Besides, have you heard the latest about the officers?”
Kitty sat up straighter. “Oh yes! Did you know that Captain Carter is to dine with us next week?”
Elizabeth sighed, trying to steer the conversation back. “Mama, what do you think of this lace for the bodice of the gown? It has a delicate pattern that would suit Mary perfectly.”
Mrs Bennet barely glanced at the lace. “Yes, yes, that will do. But Lizzy, have you not noticed how often Mr Wickham looks your way? And Jane, Mr Bingley was practically glued to your side at the ball. You both must start thinking seriously about your own matches.”
Jane shifted uncomfortably. “Mama, Mr Wickham and Mr Bingley have their own minds. We cannot assume anything.”
Lydia burst into laughter. “Oh, Jane, you are too modest! And Lizzy, you are too distracted with your books to notice when a man admires you.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Lydia, perhaps it is you who are too distracted with the officers to notice anything else.”
Kitty giggled. “Well, at least they are interesting! Much more than discussing lace and silks.”
Mary was glancing between them all, still sitting primly with her hands folded in her lap. She cleared her throat. “I think the lace is lovely, Jane. Thank you for suggesting it.”
Mrs Bennet beamed at Mary. “There, you see? Mary appreciates the importance of these details. Now, Lizzy, do you think we should have satin or leather for her wedding shoes?”
Elizabeth exchanged a look with Jane, both of them feeling the pressure of their mother’s expectations. “I think satin would be more elegant,” she said finally.
“Satin it is, then!” Mrs Bennet declared, her eyes twinkling with satisfaction. “And remember, girls, this is the only time she shall have a wedding. Everything must be perfect for our Mary.”
Mary sat somewhat straighter—no doubt delighted at being the centre of her mother’s eager focus for once. Lydia and Kitty, however, could hardly focus on Mary for two minutes together, and sat elbowing each other and trading snickers over this officer or that. Elizabeth rolled her neck and sighed. This was going to be a long, dull afternoon.
