Page 125 of The Engagement at Longbourn

Mrs. Bennet came beside him. “They are gone,” she said tearfully.

“Not yet.”

“They are married.”

“Yes.”

“You know what I mean.”

Mr. Bennet looked at Jane laughing beneath Bingley’s arm and Elizabeth arguing with Darcy over flower petals caught in his collar.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “I do.”

Mrs. Bennet slipped her hand into his.

He held it.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

The Wedding Breakfast

Netherfield had never looked more festive.

The dining room could not contain every guest, so Bingley had ordered tables set in the ballroom as well. Greenery wound around the pillars. Early spring flowers filled silver bowls. The musicians who had played at the February ball returned and occupied the gallery.

Mrs. Bennet entered and burst into tears again. “It is beautiful.”

Mrs. Nicholls, who had not slept properly in four days, accepted the praise with dignity. Jane and Bingley sat at the centre of one long table. Elizabeth and Darcy sat beside them.

Darcy’s leg ached. Elizabeth noticed before he admitted it. “You have been standing too long.”

“I am well.”

“You are shifting your foot.”

“I am sitting.”

“You know what I mean.”

Darcy looked at her.

She pointed beneath the table. “Elevate it on the spare chair.”

“We are at our wedding breakfast.”

“And?”

“There are eighty people here.”

“Most of whom watched you arrive at Longbourn unconscious on a farm wagon, at least in imagination. Your dignity has survived worse.”

Bingley overheard and laughed.

Darcy sighed. A chair was placed beneath his foot.

Mrs. Bennet noticed from three tables away. “Oh! Is your leg paining you? Hill has the cushion in the carriage.”

Darcy closed his eyes. Elizabeth smiled. “Would you like the cushion?”