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“Twelfth Night is a very auspicious day for a wedding, er, weddings!” Darcy’s new mother-in-law exclaimed loudly to the entire table of guests. Everyone nodded in agreement. It was at least the third time she had said the same thing; perhaps she had consumed a little too much of the wassail.
Mr. Bennet cajoled his wife back into her seat and poured her a cup of coffee. Now she was teary-eyed. “Two daughters married!” she exclaimed through her sobs. “And to such good men. We are blessed, Mr. Bennet.”
“Yes, we are, my dear,” he said in a low voice. “Please drink your coffee.”
Darcy glanced at his new wife, who rolled her eyes with a tolerant smile. Darcy smiled, too. He was far too happy today to allow Mrs. Bennet’s antics to annoy him. At the other end of the long table, Jane and Bingley—dressed in their wedding finery—were cooing at each other, oblivious to everyone around them.
Following his stare, Elizabeth laughed. “You would think they could stop gazing into each other’s eyes long enough to speak with a few guests at their own wedding breakfast.”
“I think Bingley believes he needs to make amends,” Darcy observed.
It was true that the other couple had been inseparable since they had been reunited. Richard had observed that their hasty marriage was a blessing, or they might anticipate their vows. Jane had blushed at the suggestion, and Bingley had dismissed it, but Darcy agreed with his cousin. Of course, only he and Elizabeth knew how dangerously close they were to anticipating their vows. The quick wedding had not been Bingley’s idea.
Darcy took his new wife’s hand and kissed it. “Have I told you that you are the most beautiful woman here today?”
“Yes,” she said with a laugh.
“Have I told you how lovely you look in your wedding gown?”
“Yes.”
“Have I told you I am eager for all the guests to depart so I may have you all to myself?”
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth exclaimed in mock outrage.
Whatever rejoinder Darcy would have made was cut short when Mary Bennet rushed up to their seats. “I cannot find Lydia anywhere,” she said in a low tone.
Elizabeth sighed. Darcy could just imagine what kind of trouble Lydia could cause wandering loose in Darcy House, but he refused to allow it to spoil his good mood.
“Have you checked for any missing soldiers?” Elizabeth asked with a grin. “If there is a red coat nearby, she will be nearby.”
Darcy glanced about for Richard, but his cousin was sitting with his parents halfway down the table. Good. The last thing the man needed was to get entangled with Lydia.
“That is why I worry,” Mary replied. “Kitty swears she saw Mr. Wickham lurking about in the back hallway, but I did not think you would invite him.”
Now Darcy was alarmed. “Wickham? What would bring him here?” Nothing good.
Elizabeth clutched his arm. “We had better find Lydia before he causes more trouble.”
“Indeed,” Darcy growled, hurrying to his feet. He could handle Wickham, but it would be good to have help. Darcy caught Richard’s eye and nodded toward the door. Richard caught up with them in the hallway. Mary had fetched Mr. Bennet, apparently on the dubious premise that he might be of some help with Lydia.
Darcy explained the situation to everyone in low voices as they ventured into the front hallway. Richard grinned at the idea that he might have a chance to strike Wickham, but Mr. Bennet’s face was grave.
They did not have far to go. The group turned the corner and found Lydia—red-faced and teary-eyed—standing outside the door of the yellow drawing room. Elizabeth rushed up to her sister. “Lydia, what has occurred?”
“They told me to leave the room!” she wailed. “They said I was too young to hear.”
Elizabeth peered into her sister’s face. “Who did? Hear what?”
Lydia mopped her tears with the handkerchief Elizabeth handed her. “Mr. Wickham and M-Miss Bingley!” she sobbed. “They are in the drawing room talking, and they made me leave—and told me they would pay me not to tell anyone. But W-Wickham is in there with h-her—” She crossed her arms angrily, resembling a mature adult for a moment, before bursting into tears once more.
What was Miss Bingley doing with Wickham in the drawing room? How was she even familiar with the man? Darcy could not imagine. “Please return to the dining room and fetch Bingley,” he whispered in Mary’s ear. She nodded once and rushed away.
“What were they discussing?” Elizabeth asked Lydia.
“I do not know!” the girl wailed. Finally, Mr. Bennet stepped forward and drew his daughter to the side, trying awkwardly to comfort her.
Darcy and Richard joined Elizabeth at the closed door of the drawing room. “What could they possibly be doing?” Richard asked. Everyone exchanged puzzled glances.
