Page 111 of The Crown’s Gift

"It is done."

"Yes, Aunt."

"Pemberley's blue drawing room requires new curtains. The present ones are faded."

Elizabeth said, "I shall inspect them."

Lady Catherine's brows rose at the absence of obedience or refusal. "See that you do."

She entered her carriage without attending the breakfast, exactly as promised.

The wedding breakfast was held at Netherfield. Lady Bennet had invited one hundred and twelve people and claimed surprise when one hundred and thirty arrived. Tables filled the ballroom. The King's letter and the Queen's miniature were displayed privately in the library, not as trophies but as part of the family's story.

Sir Thomas offered the first toast.

He stood beside his wife, glass in hand, and waited until the room quieted.

"Ten years ago, this family received a gift none of us expected. People speak of Netherfield, the title, and His Majesty's generosity. Those things changed our circumstances. But the most useful gift was obligation—the knowledge that a life spared should not be spent asleep."

His eyes found Elizabeth and Darcy.

"Marriage is also a life spared from solitude, if two people remain awake to one another. To Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam: may you listen before certainty, laugh before pride, and use your happiness well."

They drank.

Lady Bennet wept. Lydia wept because everyone else did. Mr Collins attempted a second toast and was redirected by Charlotte toward the cold meats.

Mary and Georgiana played Two Houses. This time the final passage included a new third theme, quiet at first, joining the original two without overwhelming either.

Elizabeth understood: Pemberley, Netherfield, and the life between.

During the dancing, Darcy claimed his wife's hand.

"Mrs Darcy."

The name sent warmth through her.

"Mr Darcy."

"Are you happy?"

"Entirely. You?"

"I have been attempting not to ask whether this is real."

"Your aunt attended. No dream would be so thorough."

They danced while family and neighbors watched. At the assembly he had refused her because she was not handsome enough to tempt him. Now every turn away felt too long, every return a private relief.

Near the end of the set, he said, "I was blind."

"Only at first."

"I shall spend the remainder of my life correcting the error."

"That sounds exhausting."

"I am equal to it."