Page 43 of The Crown’s Gift

His letters had been long, but they had arrived when promised. In February he travelled back to Hertfordshire with the settlement signed and Lady Catherine's written instructions for Charlotte's poultry yard. He and Charlotte married in Meryton church before family and neighbors, breakfasted at Lucas Lodge, and left for Hunsford the following morning. Mr Collins counted their trunks twice. Charlotte remembered to thank him for placing the warm brick at her feet before the carriage started.

* * *

Mary's presentation gown weighed more than Lydia had at birth.

"That cannot be true," Mary said as Hill settled the train across the bed.

"Your mother has never permitted facts to injure a comparison," Sir Thomas replied from the doorway.

Lady Bennet turned. "You should not be here. The girls are dressing."

"They appear clothed. Extensively."

Elizabeth stood near the mirror in ivory silk, silver embroidery tracing the hem. Three white feathers rose from her hair, anchored by a small diamond ornament the Queen had sent for Jane's presentation and later instructed the family to use again. Mary wore pale blue with seed pearls. Her spectacles had been removed; without them, the room beyond several feet softened into color.

"I cannot see," she whispered to Elizabeth.

"You need see only the person before you. I shall be beside you until the final approach."

"And if I forget the curtsy?"

"Bend before the Queen. Do not sit upon the floor. Everything between is ornament."

Mary made a sound halfway between laughter and panic.

Sir Thomas crossed to her. "Look at me."

She did.

"You are not entering that room to prove yourself worthy of it. You are entering because the Queen invited you. Courtesy is required. Perfection is not."

"What if everyone stares?"

"They will. Half will wonder whether their feathers are taller. The other half will be searching for someone more important."

"Mr Bennet," Lady Bennet protested, though she smiled.

He kissed Mary's forehead without disturbing her carefully arranged hair. "I shall be proud of you if you walk three steps and flee."

"Mama will not."

Lady Bennet's eyes filled. "I shall be proud after I recover."

At St James's, carriages crowded the approach. Trains, feathers, jewels, and uniforms filled the chambers before the Queen's drawing room. Elizabeth felt Mary's hand shake against hers.

"Breathe," she murmured.

"I am trying."

Across the gathering, Georgiana Darcy stood beside Lady Matlock. She wore white and had already been presented the previous year, but she had come at her aunt's request. When she saw Mary, she smiled and touched two fingers lightly to her own wrist—the signal they had invented during practice to mean slow the measure.

Mary's breathing eased.

Darcy stood behind his sister.

He had returned from Pemberley the night before. He bowed to Sir Thomas, Lady Bennet, and Jane, who attended in support. His gaze reached Elizabeth and paused.

She saw admiration before he controlled it. Unlike at the assembly, he did not measure and dismiss. He looked as if the sight had struck him somewhere unguarded.