“And is that all you know about it?” Aunt Gardiner asked, eyebrows raised.
“I do understand it to be rather grand.”
“Grand! I should say so,” her aunt returned.
“Do you know it, Aunt?”
“I do, indeed; it is not five miles from Lambton, where I grew up!”
“Oh! I did not know that. Have you ever been inside the house?”
“No, indeed, we moved in very different social circles at the time.”
At the time? Elizabeth wondered, but thought no more of it, as her mother caught sight of her ring.
“Let me see that,” Mrs. Bennet said, grabbing Elizabeth’s hand. “Why, it is rather simple for such a wealthy man.” She was clearly disappointed.
“There were a good many to choose from, Mama,” Elizabeth replied, firmly. “But I liked this simple ring, rather than one of the gaudier ones. And it is a family heirloom.”
Mrs. Bennet simply shook her head in disbelief.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The twenty-fifth of May dawned bright and warm. It was scarcely past dawn when the Bennet household awoke and began to bustle about. Breakfast was just tea and toast, as the kitchen staff was entirely focused on preparations for the wedding breakfast.
The female members of the household clustered in Elizabeth’s room. It looked rather bare, as she and Kate had packed up her personal items the night before. Three trunks contained all that Elizabeth owned in the world.
Mary had brought a tray of tea and toast, which Elizabeth refused; but Mary would not leave her sister in peace until she had consumed an entire piece of toast, well-buttered, and had drank an entire cup of tea. “It would not do for you to faint at the altar,” she told her older sister. “Mama would never be able to hold her head up again in church.”
Elizabeth’s wedding dress had been laid out flat on her bed. It was satin, the palest rose imaginable; Aunt Gardiner had sent the material as soon as she heard of the betrothal, and Jane had helped stitch it together and had even embroidered white flowers on the hem and neckline.
“I knew it would be perfect for Lizzy,” Aunt Gardiner said, smiling happily. “And Jane truly is a gifted seamstress; these flowers are lovely.”
Lydia, who considered herself to be Longbourn’s fashion expert, laid the dress out on the bed and ran her hands up and down each seam, looking for any tears or gaps. “It is perfect,” she pronounced.
“Where are the flowers for her hair?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“Here,” Kitty said, laying a wreath of pale pink flowers on the bed beside the dress. “And here is her bouquet.”
Lydia examined the wreath. “The flowers are quite pretty, but what is this?”
Kitty looked uncertain. “It is spearmint; Mary says that it symbolises love, so I put some in.”
“Does it, Mary?” Lydia asked. “I never heard of that.”
“Well, I spoke with Papa, and he said the Romans favoured basil for love, but the Greeks preferred spearmint. I thought the spearmint would smell nice,” Mary answered.
“It does,” Lydia agreed.
Kate had drawn a bath for Elizabeth, and washed her hair. Once her hair was dried, it was curled and pinned up, with a few loose curls left to frame her face. Her mother and sisters dressed her and then finally put the wreath on her head.
“Lizzy, oh, Lizzy,” her mother choked out. “You are so lovely!”
Her sisters all murmured their agreement.
Aunt Gardiner said, “One more thing,” and she reached into her pocket and produced a pearl necklace.
“Oh, Aunt Gardiner!” Elizabeth breathed, as her aunt fastened it around her neck.
