“What would you have done if we had not chanced upon you?”
“Exactly as I said. I would have slipped laudanum into one of their drinks, and dispatched an express to my father the minute I had secured one of them into the care of Morpheus.”
Charlotte laughed, shaking her head at the same time.
“You are still the irrepressible Lydia I remember from Meryton.” She covered one of Lydia’s hands with her own. “You remind me so much of your next eldest sister that I find myself longing for her sharp wit all over again.”
“I thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Collins. There was a time when I had no intention of being like my sisters in any way, shape, or form. However, time and distance have taught me otherwise. I cannot wait to see them, and rejoice in their future felicity.”
“If it gives you comfort, they are just as eager as you to reconnect and share their joy.”
“May I ask,” Miss Watting said in a soft voice, “who your sisters are, and whom they are marrying?”
“My eldest sister, Jane, will wed Mr. Joshua Morgan,” Lydia replied, “and my next eldest sister, Elizabeth, is to marry Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
“Mr. Darcy?” Miss Watting said with a gasp, her eyes widening. “He is almost as good as lord, with all his properties and wealth.”
Lydia exchanged a knowing look with Charlotte and smiled.
“It seems my future brother-in-law’s wealth always travels faster than he does.”
“Aye,” Charlotte agreed, “he and Mr. Bingley were at the top of every matchmaking list as soon as word spread that they would attend the Meryton Assembly.”
“Until Mr. Darcy's icy scowl and cutting remarks at Lizzy cooled everyone’s ardour.”
“He has since apologised — many times — to your sister. Their acquaintance is quite amiable now, as you can imagine.”
“I can imagine very well, although I suspect Lizzy outwits him in every exchange, and he wonders why he cannot win an argument.”
“I dare say, we shall find out at the breakfast.”
Just then, Mr. Fitzwilliam and Mr. Collins joined the table.
“Miss Watting,” Mr. Fitzwilliam said, “you are most welcome to travel with us to London. I have dispatched a message to your father, requesting he meet us at my parents’ home in Mayfair.”
Miss Watting blanched upon hearing her father would soon learn of her foolish escapade, but nodded her acceptance.
“I also sent an express to your father, Lady Lydia, explaining your absence at school, and a note to the headmistress assuring her that you are under my protection.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fitzwilliam. As I said earlier, I also left a note, but it was written in such haste that I may not have chosen my words as carefully as I should.”
“Then, she will be glad I clarified matters on your behalf.”
St. George’s was filledto near to capacity the morning of 15 October 1812. Family members took up most of the pews, but there were a fair number of guests who had no business being there, other than to earn bragging rights of attending one of the premiere events of the new season. That, and rubbing shoulders with powerful members of the peerage. But, to Elizabeth and Jane, it was simply their wedding day and both were impatient, and excited, to marry the men they loved beyond reason.
“Lord Joshua Morgan and Lady Jane Morgan, Viscount and Viscountess Waring,” Earl Rumley’s butler announced to the wedding breakfast guests, followed by, “Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy and Lady Elizabeth Darcy.”
Morgan had reluctantly accepted his title, knowing it would make his and Jane’s life easier when moving amongst the ton. He fully intended to maintain his business contacts, and defied anyone cutting him directly if they objected to how he added to his family’s substantial income. In this, he had full support of, not only his father-in-law, but also Mr. Darcy, who diversified his income by investing with their new uncle by marriage, Mr. Gardiner.
Morgan and Jane joined his family and friends, while Darcy and Elizabeth made their way to a corner where all the Fitzwilliams had gathered, among them, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.
“Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth said, greeting her new aunt with a respectful curtsey.
“Lady Elizabeth,” she acknowledged back with a regal nod of the head. “I still think of you as Miss Bennet.” Her tone was one of disdain. “I find it difficult to think of you as an earl’sdaughter, on par with me.”
“Your father came by his title when a cousin died without an heir. How is that so different from my father?”
“Impudent girl. I am of a mind—”
