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“Oh! Of course!” said Jane, blushing. “You must do what you think best.”

“Jane, your uncle said you should be back in London the day after tomorrow, so I will visit in the evening to let you know how I have got on.”

Thorne would have liked to kiss Jane goodbye. But having judged his kiss in the evening to have been better received than he could have hoped, he did not think he could top it in the daylight—at least not with decorum. He wisely restrained himself to caress Jane’s cheek instead before kissing her forehead, briefly inhaling the delicious scent that clung about her. Thorne stood waving as the Gardiner carriage skirted the square before walking back inside. Half an hour later his own horses were harnessed, and he was off to London at a wicked pace, intent on completing the journey as he usually did, in a single day, though he typically got an earlier start. Nonetheless his journey was completed in comfort, for his carriage was of a new design featuring Mr Elliot’s patent elliptical springs.

The Gardiners’ journey to Bruton was brisk but more sedate and they arrived at the estate in time for lunch. Mary, who had asked the servants to keep an eye on the drive as they went about their daily work, was at the front door to greet them when the carriage pulled up. She had such roses in her cheeks that Mrs Gardiner wondered if she might already be with child. A footman had been sent to fetch Mr Elliott who was visiting the sick.

The clergyman arrived as the food was being placed on the table with a real spring in his step. Mr Gardiner raised an eyebrow at his wife in an “I told you so!” kind of way. Madeleine smiled in return and asked the happy couple how they were settling in. Much was said of parishioners and tenants’ cottages by both Mary and Mr Elliot. From this, Mrs Gardiner gathered that the chief part of their time was spent wandering around the parish and the estate, bringing succour to the needy. Nonetheless, the food that was put on the table was in no way deficient. Madeleine could only assume that Mary had the good fortune of having an excellent housekeeper.

When the tea was brought in, Mr Gardiner judged the time ripe to make his announcement. “Well, Mary, you may have been the first, but you are not the last! Your sister Jane has recently become betrothed to a trader of Bristol, Mr Thorne, a colleague of mine whom I hold in very high esteem.”

“Oh, Jane! Congratulations!” cried Mary. “Was this a whirlwind romance? I had thought your trip to Bristol regarded Uncle’s winch?”

“It did principally,” replied Jane, “but I had met Mr Thorne several times in London, and he came to the point while we were staying with him.”

Mrs Gardiner was very pleased with this speech of Jane’s, which showed calm acceptance of her suitor.

“Excellent! You will be close enough to visit!” said Mary. “Perhaps we could even meet in Bath occasionally!”

Jane nodded, wondering where this new outgoing Mary had come from. The only thing formerly outgoing about Mary had been her wish to constantly demonstrate her accomplishments at social functions. Jane watched as Mr Elliot squeezed his wife’s hand and looked upon her proudly. Perhaps his esteem had been sufficient to turn Mary’s energy in new directions.

If Mary thought her sister’s decision to wed a tradesman surprising, she said nothing of it. Lizzy’s marriage to Mr Darcy had come as more of a surprise to her, particularly as she had been the last member of the family to be apprised of its existence. Any chagrin she had felt on reading the opening paragraph of Lizzy’s disclosing letter had quickly been effaced when Lizzy wrote of Mr Darcy’s illness. Mary had pondered the circumstances of the marriage as she knew them. She had felt very sorry that her sister had been forced into marriage with an invalid by their mother’s overambitious schemes. None of Lizzy’s joking assurances that she had found a companion far less grumpy than their Papa and with a much better library, could lessen her sympathy. Mary had also felt sorry that Lizzy had not had the benefit of a church wedding or a proper send-off of any kind. She could only be glad that Jane and the Gardiners had attended the ceremony in Grosvenor Square. Mary was therefore relieved to hear that Jane was to be properly married in London, although she begged that she be excused from attending.

“I do not think I will be quite well enough to travel,” she said, blushing and smiling at her husband who beamed back at her.

On hearing that Mr Thorne was applying for a Special Licence, Mr Elliot even suggested he would be willing to perform the ceremony in his own church or elsewhere. “Bruton is conveniently located between Bristol and London, although perhaps not on the main thoroughfare.”

“Will Mama be attending?” asked Mary, thinking it unlikely Mrs Bennet would be willing to travel so far.

“That remains to be determined,” said Mr Gardiner. “We may be able to get her to London in easy stages in an open carriage if fine weather prevails.”

The conversation for the rest of the meal turned to Mr Thorne and his circumstances, and in Jane’s natural embarrassment on the topic, Mr and Mrs Gardiner provided the details without any of the impropriety that Mrs Bennet would have displayed on such an occasion.

As the carriage ride had tired Mrs Gardiner, the ladies rested after lunch while Mr Elliot and Mr Gardiner toured the estate in a gig the clergyman had recently acquired. Having not been in the habit of tooling a carriage, Mr Elliot was certainly no whip. But as his horse was only slightly more energetic than a donkey, they were never in any danger of being overturned, though Mr Gardiner’s hands itched to take the reins. The estate turned out to be in much better nick than Mr Gardiner had supposed based on their lunchtime conversation. He could only surmise that the clergyman took great pleasure in doing what he could for his dependants.

By the time the gentlemen returned to the manor house in the evening, the refreshed ladies had toured the house and the garden. It was clear Mary and Mr Elliot were having a little difficulty adjusting to the unaccustomed grandeur of their surroundings, for the house was built and furnished in a grand, though old-fashioned style. Mrs Gardiner and Jane exclaimed over the beauty of several pieces and suggested ways that Mary could update the furnishings by changing the covers and curtains, some of which were a little faded or threadbare.

“Indeed, Mary, if you have a mind to it, I have just the brocade for those chairs that will match the carpet,” said Mrs Gardiner. “Mr Gardiner brought home a sample from Venice the other day, which he thought would do very well for the parlour, but he was forgetting that we had changed the curtains. Let me send it to you. If you think it goes well, tell me the yardage you require. If Mr Elliot does come up to London for the wedding, he can bring it back with him.

“That is very generous, Aunt, but I do not wish to be a burden to you.”

“Nonsense! We only gave you those few silks for some dresses when you married. Now that three of you are to be well settled, Edward and I are in a much better way to do things properly!”

During dinner, the men moved onto politics. The ladies were glad to withdraw so they might talk more of domestic matters. Mrs Gardiner had brought some fashion journals from London, which she had already thoroughly perused, and these were got out to be reviewed and left with Mary. This session reminded Mary of Jane’s wedding presents. She offered to return the veil Jane had embroidered so that her sister might use it at her own wedding. Jane accepted the veil with thanks. Mary was then so bold as to thank Jane for her other present, which—she blushingly divulged—had been much appreciated. Thus, Mrs Gardiner was able to tell her husband when they retired that he had been correct in his prediction that all would be well in that quarter. Mr Gardiner could only be glad. He had never told his wife of his embarrassing conversation with the clergyman, which had made him question his earlier prognostications.

When the Gardiners departed early in the morning to travel to Basingstoke in easy stages before continuing to London on the following day, the Elliots stood smiling and waving on the front step. With Mr Elliot’s arm clasped about Mary’s shoulder, they were the picture of domestic bliss.

Arriving in London late in the evening, Mr Thorne put up once more at the convenient Bolt-in-Tun. He promised his valet they would move to better accommodation on the morrow, although he thought the Clarendon too genteel for his comfort, besides being out of the way. He assured Kimble, however, that he was most grateful for his recommendation, for he believed their sojourn there had served its purpose well.

In the morning Thorne got down from his carriage at St Paul’s, sending his valet with his luggage to Southwark to enquire about lodging at The George or perhaps The Tabard. Having applied for the licence at Doctors’ Commons, Thorne took a hackney to St Mary-at-Hill. As promised, the interior of the church was beautiful, with an impressive dome, though nothing to rival St Paul’s. But Thorne was unable to locate the rector who had gone to administer the last rites to a parishioner, while the curate was busy all morning with various services. The rector’s housekeeper could not say when the clergyman would be back as he was keeping vigil—the gentleman dying intended to leave a good sum to the church—but she thought the curate might have time to speak to Mr Thorne between two funerals in the afternoon. She feared the wait for a wedding service was at least three months long and suggested he might try one of the lesser churches like St Benet’s.

Thorne then walked briskly to St Olave’s. He was rather taken aback by the entrance to the churchyard, which looked like something that should have been hoisted on a pirate’s mast had it not been fixed in stone. The church itself was medieval. He immediately fell in love with its wood-panelled interior, which seemed so much more inviting than the classical architecture of St Mary-at-Hill. Thorne had fortuitously arrived at St Olave’s just after the rector finished terce, but he met with much the same situation he had been warned of at St Mary-at-Hill. The earliest time free for a marriage ceremony, which could only be performed in the mornings, was late in July. Taking what was available, Thorne paid a holding fee and promised to return on the morrow with the Special Licence. He then went off to attend to his business. Wending his way to Southwark in the evening, he found his valet had hired one of the best suites to be had at the Tabard—two adjoining rooms on the second floor, well away from the bustle of the coaching yard. The accommodations suited them both—they were genteel enough to satisfy his valet and, Thorne had to admit, more comfortable than The Bolt-in-Tun. The price, Thorne discovered, was also far more reasonable than the Clarendon.

When Thorne returned to St Olave’s in the morning, his coach arrived in time for him to witness the tail end of a vociferous argument between two gentlemen who had been brawling in the street. Rather than step down into the middle of it, Thorne sat in his carriage hoping they would move on. Subsequently one of the gentlemen stepped into the carriage pulled up in front of Thorne’s, leaving the other man standing in the street with a rapidly blackening eye. Thorne was then further enlightened on the nature of the dispute when a lady leaned out of the departing vehicle to declare that she never wanted to lay eyes upon the gentleman standing on the pavement again. He seemed to stagger slightly under this new assault.

Feeling rather sorry for the victim, Thorne got down from his own vehicle to ask if he was all right, to which the man replied that he could go to hell. All sympathy having evaporated, Thorne shrugged and made his way to the parsonage. However, his mind started ticking over. After the rector had sighted the Special Licence, Thorne asked if there was any likelihood of an earlier spot becoming free in the event of a cancellation.

The rector looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. “That does occur sometimes, and there are often several couples who are eager to come forward in the schedule. I usually ask for an additional donation to expedite things—the church needs many repairs.”