Page 65 of Resilience

“And to you, I shall be Richard, for you are among the dearest of my cousins.” He offered her his arm. “May I squire you for your morning walk? I should not like to lose this opportunity to learn all about my dear new friend.”

Elizabeth put the pin back in the pouch, and the pouch into her pocket for safekeeping, then took his arm with a grin.

Miss Matilda Jenks watched in amusement from her bedroom window an hour later as the pair marched through the market street as if they were a regiment on parade.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tuesday 26 May 1812

Lady Catherine de Bourgh sat upon a chair in the corner of the dining room at Pemberley, directing two gardeners and one harried footman that seemed to regard her as a force of nature instead of a mere houseguest.

“The flowers should be white and green only,” she insisted. “White roses if you can manage them, but mind you, no lilies! Lilies are too funereal, and a wedding must never suggest mortality.”

“A pity that no one has ever thought to allow you to direct matters on the continent, Aunt. You might have saved the country from years of war.” Colonel Fitzwilliam lounged in the doorway.

“Do not be irreverent, nephew.” Lady Catherine’s tone brooked no disagreement. “I would be ashamed if Pemberley did not receive Elizabeth properly. It is my duty in my sister’s absence.”

“You have become dangerously agreeable, Aunt,” he replied.

“Do not mistake sense for incapacity,” she warned him. “Mrs Reynolds. Does Elizabeth have all that she requires? My sister’s pearls? My daughter’s bracelet?”

“They were delivered to the parsonage yesterday, Lady Catherine.”

“Very good, I do hope that Mrs Gardiner and Mrs Collins have everything in hand there.” The lady paused. “Has a selection of blooms for the bride’s hair and bouquet been delivered as well?”

“Early this morning, ma’am.” The senior servant answered. “I am certain that Mrs Collins and Mrs Gardiner will manage well at the parsonage.”

“Of course,” said Lady Catherine as she surveyed the table settings. “Of course they will.”

Elizabeth stood at the window of her bedroom at the parsonage, watching her uncle and his offspring return from a ramble that was meant to tire the children enough for them to be well behaved at the wedding.

“My uncle has brought half of Gracechurch Street with him,” she said impishly to her aunt.

“In a few years it will be you and Mr Darcy with more than you can manage,” Mrs Gardiner promised as Mary came in with the bouquet and flowers for the ladies’ hair. Below, the Gardiner children were tumbling into the front door of the house and rushed off to be tidied and dressed up for the church.

“Are you nervous?” Georgiana asked Elizabeth.

“No,” Elizabeth smiled. “It does not feel at all anxious when you know in your heart that all will be well.”

Aunt Gardiner drew Elizabeth into an embrace, then held her out for inspection. “Lizzy, I always knew you would do well.”

“You mean that you always knew that I would be happy?” Elizabeth teased.

“You will always be happy, dear girl, wherever you are. It is your nature, Lizzy,” Aunt Gardiner told her. “But to have found such devotion, such a gentleman! That is rarer.”

“Lizzy, I am pleased beyond measure to see you wearing my mother’s pearls. I hope you know that both of my parents would have loved you dearly for how happy you have made Fitzwilliam.” Georgiana admired Elizabeth’s gown with the other ladies.

“You are a dear.” Elizabeth hugged her new sister tightly.

Elizabeth’s gown was cut in the newest fashion. The colour was a delicate peach…not the bold fruit of summer, but the softened hue of a blush rose observed in the morning light. The fabric was a fine silk sarcenet, light enough to float when she moved, yet strong enough to hold its shape, drawn smoothly over a fitted bodice that ended just beneath the bust in the elegant empire silhouette, with fine floral motifs embroidered in ivory into the modestly squared neckline with seed pearls.

The sleeves were short, trimmed with drawn silk cording and exquisite pearled rouleaux, while the skirt fell in long, graceful folds to her feet, gathered at the back with discreet pleats that allowed the skirt to ripple as she walked. The simplicity of the garment that Mrs Gardiner brought with her from London was refined and delicate. It reflected Elizabeth’s taste, which was never ostentatious. The hem was also embroidered with a continuous design of classical vines and tiny flowers in ivory with seed pearls worked in. A thin ivory sash fastened at the back, the ends trailing near the hem ending in small tassels of ivory and peach thread.

Over her dark hair–which was arranged in soft curls at the temples and gathered into a high knot–she wore no bonnet, but instead, an indian muslin veil, a fine tulle scarf, was draped over her coiffure, secured with a few seed pearls. At her neck, she wore Lady Anne’s double strand of perfectly matched ivory pearls, with matching pearl drops in her ears. Upon her wrist gleamed Anne de Bourgh Darcy’s diamond bracelet, a wide band of silver set stones cut in the Grecian style. The design was restrained but refined, a line of oval and cushion cut diamonds, and it suited Elizabeth well. In addition to her other finery, she wore Richard’s silver dove brooch. Together, the adornments carried a precious blessing. The affection of a mother remembered, the peace of a cousin honoured, and a future now bright with promise.

Kitty’s eyes misted up as the ladies all gazed at the bride in awe. “Lizzy, you are the most beautiful bride. Oh, Mary, isn’t it grand to have her marry Mr Darcy and be so close to us?”

“It could not be better,” Mary agreed. “Sister, I think you are ready.”