Lydia insisted, to anyone who would listen and several who would not, that the final victory could never have been secured without her assistance.
“I was the one who recruited additional personnel,” she informed Kitty while Mrs. Bennet adjusted the ribbon on her gown. “Thomas and Toby lacked both subtlety and handwriting.”
“You possess neither,” Kitty replied.
Lydia tossed her head. “I possess imagination.”
Elizabeth, seated before her dressing table while Jane pinned the last curl in place, caught her sister’s eye in the mirror and laughed.
The house had been in a state of agreeable confusion from breakfast onward. Jane and Mr. Bingley were now married and settled at Netherfield, though Jane still appeared at Longbourn so often that very little seemed altered except the direction from which she arrived. Her happiness lent an added brightness to everything she touched. Mrs. Bennet moved between pride and tears with such frequency that no one attempted to distinguish between them. Mary had composed a small piece for the occasion and practiced it until Mr. Bennet threatened to retreat permanently to his library. Kitty had been permitted to attend more dinners and assemblies under her mother’s supervision and carried herself with the pleased astonishment of one newly admitted to the adult world.
As for Elizabeth, she was to become Mrs. Darcy within a fortnight.
The words still possessed the power to astonish her.
When she descended to the hall, Darcy stood with Mr. Bennet near the front door while Thomas and Toby explained, in tones of grave urgency, the strategic advantages of arriving early to any public event.
“Because one may observe the field,” Thomas said.
“And secure favorable positions,” Toby added.
Darcy listened with admirable seriousness.
“I shall endeavor to remember that.”
Lydia placed her hands upon her hips. “Do not let them deceive you, Mr. Darcy. They believe every social occasion is a military operation.”
“They have already proved themselves effective tacticians,” Darcy replied.
Thomas beamed.
Toby looked so pleased that Elizabeth suspected he might burst.
The journey to Netherfield was lively, the younger members of the party debating whether Mrs. Bennet would permit Kitty to dance every set and whether Lydia ought to receive formal acknowledgment in the wedding breakfast toast.
“You shall be thanked privately,” Elizabeth told her.
“That is hardly adequate.”
“It is more than you deserve.”
Lydia only grinned.
Netherfield glittered with candlelight when they arrived. Mr. and Mrs. Bingley received their guests with unmistakable delight, Jane glowing so radiantly that Elizabeth thought her sister had never appeared more beautiful. Mr. Bingley seemed incapable of standing more than two feet from his wife, a tendency that inspired equal parts affection and amusement among the family.
Darcy claimed Elizabeth for the first two sets, and by now no one thought to object.
She danced with greater ease than she had ever believed possible, secure in the knowledge that his admiration was no longer uncertain and her own heart no longer divided by doubts of prudence and position. The world he offered her remained larger than anything she had imagined for herself; whenever she looked at him she found no sense of displacement. He regarded her exactly as she wished to be regarded: with affection, respect, and an understanding that she need not become anyone other than herself.
During the interval before supper, Mr. Wilson approached with a lady on his arm.
Miss Charlotte Lucas.
Elizabeth started in surprise.
Charlotte’s eyes sparkled with unmistakable amusement.
“Lizzy,” she said, “you appear astonished.”
