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The ceremony itself went well enough. The church was not crowded, but a respectable number of pews were filled with business associates of Mr Thorne’s including the Garths on the groom’s side and the Gardiners, Bennets, Darcys and Mr Elliot on the bride’s side. Princess Brunhilda even managed to drag Colonel Fitzwilliam along—although having obtained leave for the day, Richard grumbled to his wife that he would much rather have spent the morning in her bed. She told him to hush—they could well do that in the afternoon.

In a letter penned by Cherise Garth in response to her family’s wedding invitation, Amabel Garth had begged to be allowed to be Jane’s flower girl. Once little Timmy Gardiner saw Amabel’s basket at the church door and was apprised of her duties, he became immediately envious. He begged to be allowed to help carry the basket and strew flowers and petals too, much to his brother Jemmy’s derision. The youngsters made a charming pair, proceeding down the aisle locked together by the basket, with Amabel delicately casting petals before the bride’s feet as Timmy tried to lob whole flowers overarm into the pews like cricket balls.

Jane looked ethereal as she was led down the aisle by her uncle, so proud to have his beautiful niece on his arm. With her carriage held erect, her tall slim figure was the epitome of grace. Nor had Mrs Gardiner’s faith in the dressmaker been misplaced, the diaphanous gown looked stunning—the hem twirling and flowing over Jane’s silk slippers with each step. Had Mr Bingley seen Miss Bennet proceeding down the aisle, he would surely have jumped up and objected to the wedding. Fortunately, he was not there.

When Elizabeth took Jane’s bouquet and put back her veil so her sister might kneel at the altar beside Mr Thorne, the congregation could appreciate Mrs Gardiner’s pearls around her neck and the beautiful aquamarine comb in her hair. In the light filtering through the stained-glass window, Jane’s eyes seemed to have changed their colour slightly to match the stones. With her golden locks and creamy complexion, she was truly breath-taking. Mr Thorne’s heart skipped a beat.

When the vows were said and a golden band slipped onto her finger beside the aquamarine of her engagement ring, Jane finally became Mrs Benjamin Thorne. At that moment, Thorne thought his heart might burst.

Beside Mrs Bennet, the only other casualty of the wedding was Mrs Gardiner’s best soup tureen and half its cargo of white soup, which Lydia managed to consign to the parlour floor after imbibing too much punch. At least the guests managed to consume half the soup before it was dispatched. Fortunately, the more exalted guests were in Mr Gardiner’s study during the disaster and were not splashed. The remainder squeezed into the hall to allow the mess to be cleared away. Helping her aunt pick up the largest pieces of broken china while the servants retrieved rags and the broom, Lizzy found a quiet moment to speak to Mrs Gardiner alone.

“Aunt, I was talking to Fitzwilliam last night... You know we had planned to visit Mary next week to test his stamina for a longer journey. Well, I thought it might be possible to extend our journey to Bristol to visit Jane, possibly even spend a couple of days in Bath as well.”

“Oh, Lizzy! Do you think you could? I must admit I feel for Jane, having to go off without the support of one of her relatives! She seems to have come to terms with her situation, but I do worry.”

“Fitzwilliam is willing. Help me take Jane aside to ask her. If she is in agreement perhaps Uncle could talk to Mr Thorne...”

“But wait, Lizzy,” said Mrs Gardiner, biting her lip. “I know your mother boasted in her letter of staying in Mr Thorne’s ‘fine house’ but you do realise her main purpose in accompanying Jane was to provide counsel about... her new situation. I see Mr Darcy is walking slowly now but Mr Gardiner says he wears leg braces. Do you think you could provide any advice to Jane? I suppose you two have always been close but... Oh dear!” said her aunt flushing and lowering her voice to a whisper. “Is everything all right between you and Mr Darcy in that quarter?”

“Yes, Aunt,” said Lizzy smiling. “Fitzwilliam does not need to wear the braces anymore and is getting stronger every day. I thought it would give us a honeymoon of sorts of our own. I am not sure yet, but it is possible that like Mary I am with child.”

“Oh, Lizzy!” said Mrs Gardiner squeezing her niece’s wrist warmly. “I am so glad!”

The servants bustled in and took over the clean-up operation, but before Lizzy could escape to the hall, her aunt held her back.

“Lizzy, I’ve been meaning to ask—have you seen any more of the duchess?”

“No, Aunt. She wrote a letter to Georgie the other day, asking her to congratulate her brother on his wedding but she did not send a gift, which seemed to perturb Fitzwilliam a little. Her grace merely asked him to forgive her for not sending anything immediately.”

“Perhaps she is annoyed with him,” remarked Mrs Gardiner. “All the better! Excuse me for asking. Do you talk to Jane while I find your uncle!”

It was only after Lizzy went off that Mrs Gardiner realised that no one had considered Lizzy’s sensibilities on her marriage. Madeleine supposed that when her strictures to Lizzy on her betrothal had seemed unnecessary, part of her had concluded that Lizzy’s husband was too ill to bother her that way. Nonetheless Lizzy seemed to be getting along fine, and her aunt put it down to her intrepid nature.

The chain of communication continued. By the time of the Thornes’ departure, it had been established that the Darcys would set off on the morrow to arrive in Bristol a day or so after the Thornes, depending on how well Darcy stood the journey.

At eleven, Thorne’s carriage set off for Bristol, with two corded trunks containing the chief of Jane’s worldly possessions stacked in the boot. His valet followed in a post-chaise with Thorne’s luggage and a maid whom Mrs Gardiner and Lizzy had hired on Jane’s behalf—Jane had been unable to choose between the applicants sent by the agency.

After choking back the inevitable tears as she waved goodbye to her family, Jane smiled timidly at her husband as they set off down Gracechurch Street. It was unnerving to be alone in a coach with a man who was not her relative. What if he should begin to make torrid love to her? Mr Thorne, sensing her nervousness, took Jane’s hand to stroke it. As the carriage passed St Paul’s and headed down Fleet Street and The Strand towards Kensington, he began to point out various landmarks. Many of these Jane knew already from her journeys to Mayfair but she found his voice reassuring and infinitely preferable to uncomfortable silence.

As they passed Hyde Park and continued on through Hammersmith, the way became increasingly less familiar. Much of what Mr Thorne pointed out was novel to Jane, who had ventured there only twice before on her previous trip to Bristol. Judging that his new bride was handling the journey well, Thorne commanded his coachman to let the horses have their heads once they reached Hounslow Heath. They began bowling along at a good ten miles per hour, whisking through the turnpikes without stopping when the coachman blew a whistle. While Jane found Thorne’s carriage very smooth with little jolting at all, she did find the pace at which the countryside was speeding past rather unnerving at first. She found it best to concentrate on the distant views and not look too closely at the fences and hedges rushing past. When Mr Thorne asked her how she had found her sister Mary during the Gardiners’ visit, Jane turned away from the galloping countryside to speak of Mary’s felicity before citing her sister’s wish to call or perhaps meet in Bath for shopping or a recital.

“You might wish to inspect the furniture shops in Bath,” said Thorne. “Luxury goods are to be had in Bristol, but they tend to be of the more exotic kind. I suspect some of the shops in Bath—those that cater to the Ton—will align better with your taste.”

Jane assured her husband that she would decorate the house according to his wishes.

“Not at all,” replied Thorne. “You are mistress now. Downstairs is in a deplorable state. Mother took no interest in decorating. I made an attempt to get it started when I first moved in. I much admired the furniture in Thomas Garth’s house. But when I purchased some similar pieces, Mother thought them very ugly.” He laughed. “Don’t tell me you didn’t look askance at the two Egyptian revival chairs in the vestibule when you first arrived! You and Mother would have had a good time roasting me, for she was quite in agreement with you.”

Jane smiled. “I do find the style a little gothic. Mrs Garth has decorated her house with such panache, but it is so different to what I am used to.”

“Well, given your mother was unable to make the wedding, we must now pay a courtesy call to Longbourn in the near future as she requested, and you can show me what can be achieved with good taste.”

“Longbourn is a little old-fashioned,” admitted Jane, “but I must say how much I admire the Darcy townhouse.”

Thorne nodded appreciatively. “Yes, I think the shops in Bath will please you.”

On they went through the village of Colnbrook before stopping at Slough to change horses. Jane accepted a glass of lemonade from Thorne but declined any food—she never was particularly hungry when she travelled and had already eaten her fill at the wedding breakfast. After passing over the grand Maidenhead Bridge, they stopped briefly in Twyford before arriving in Reading by half-past five, where Thorne had taken rooms for the night for the comfort of his bride.

After refreshing themselves, they left the servants to organise their belongings while they walked to the Kennet. Strolling along the bank, Thorne talked with great animation about the canal once more. Jane realised how drawn her husband was to water. As pleasant as the walk was after being confined in the carriage, Jane began to get nervous again as sunset neared, realising she might soon be in her husband’s arms. The day was still warm and when Thorne took off his coat to walk beside her, his pungent musky scent assailed her, making her knees tremble.