Chapter 37

Billiard Room

Netherfield

That Evening

There was a clack, then a clatter and whisper, as Colonel Fitzwilliam sank Bingley's ball in a hazard before straightening. Candles sat around the room, the mirrors behind them polished to a diamond shine. Firelight flickered across the cut crystal of the glass decanter and tumblers set on the low oak table between the leather wingbacked chairs. Even the brass rivets securing the leather to the oak frames of the chairs gleamed, polished attentively by the maids.

The curtains at the windows had been drawn back, and a half moon rode high above thin clouds shining an ethereal ghostly gray. The amber curtains were dyed a dark mahogany brown by the nighttime, heavy and velvet and deeply shadowed. Glass clinked as Colonel Fitzwilliam refilled his brandy glass and then Bingley's. Darcy's stood empty, filled once earlier in the evening and then not again. Darcy had no wish to have a headache on the following morning.

"Bingley?" Darcy asked.

"Yes?"

"I hope you do not mind if my sister and her companion spend the night here at Netherfield before driving on to Pemberley."

"You know I am pleased to host Miss Darcy and Mrs. Annesley as long as they like," Bingley said, and once more Darcy was struck with the kindness of his friend. Darcy had caused great hardship for Bingley in separating him from Miss Bennet, but Bingley had taken the responsibility of his actions on his own shoulders.

"That is very kind," Darcy said gratefully. "They will begin the journey to Pemberley by Thursday or Friday, depending on the weather."

"Will you be accompanying them, Colonel?"

"No, I will not, as I must return to Town and speak with my superiors. I have been on leave for some time now and need to go back to the military barracks by the end of the week."

"You are, of course, welcome to stay here until then."

"Thank you, Bingley," Fitzwilliam replied, and then turned a gimlet eye on his cousin. "Darcy, you really ought to go to bed. I appreciate that you are not drinking to excess, but if you only get a few hours of a sleep, that will not bode well for the wedding tomorrow."

Darcy was vaguely surprised, as Richard had never sent him to bed before, but on the other hand, he had never been getting married before. He rose to his feet, stretched, and nodded. "Until tomorrow, gentlemen. And do not oversleep! The wedding is at eleven o'clock!"

"We will not," Richard promised, and Bingley grinned.

Darcy made his way out of the room, up the stairs, and into his bedchamber, where his valet was waiting.

It was odd to think that tomorrow night he would be sharing his bed with Elizabeth.

Odd and so very, very wonderful.

/

Elizabeth's Bedchamber

Longbourn

Firelight flickered across the wooden floor to the foot of the neatly made bed, climbing like vines up the legs of dresser and nightstand to illuminate the odd bareness across both surfaces. Were Elizabeth to open her wardrobe, she would likewise find only empty air. A well-filled trunk hulked in one corner, which she would take with her on the morrow to Pemberley. All the rest of her belongings – gowns and books, ribbons and bonnets and jewelry, decorative knickknacks and prized possessions – had been carefully packed in the previous days and sent ahead to her new home.

The hollow gaps, while invisible in the darkness, nevertheless pressed down like a weight on Elizabeth's shoulders; everything would change tomorrow, and while she looked forward to her marriage, she still felt a trifle melancholy.

She sighed and settled more comfortably in the old familiar chair, absently watching the leaping patterns of the fire in the grate as it consumed the gnarled oak logs.

The face of her beloved rose in her mind's eye, and she smiled. She could not conceive of a more perfect man as a husband. Darcy was a good deal quieter and graver than she, but Elizabeth did not see that as a drawback. He would temper her too-easy wit, and she would liven the halls of his home. It was incredible that she had found a man who was her intellectual equal, who would enjoy a spirited debate without growing offended or condescending. Some women would be fatigued by him, studious and dutiful as he was, with none of the lighthearted gaiety so prized by society. Elizabeth chuckled ruefully at the thought of Miss Bingley as Mrs. Darcy, or, worse yet, vivacious Lydia – both women far preferred the societal whirl of Town over the country. As for herself, while she enjoyed parties and society, she was more at home in the country. Furthermore, she could not imagine ever becoming bored by her conversations with her husband-to-be.

A soft tap on the door interrupted her thoughts, and she turned and called, "Come in!"

She was worried that it was Mrs. Bennet and heaved a sigh of relief when Jane entered the room, swathed in a cotton nightgown and robe.

"I was hoping you were not yet asleep," Jane said.

"Not yet, as my mind is too busy for sleep. Do sit down next to me, my dear."

Jane accepted her invitation, and for some time, the two sisters sat side by side in silence, for what would be the last time before Elizabeth's wedding.

"Did Mother speak to you about, erm, the wedding night?" Jane asked shyly.

Elizabeth snorted and said, "No, thank the Lord. I would have hated it. Aunt Gardiner offered to talk to me, and Mamma was far too busy worrying about the wedding breakfast to insist on discussing marital intimacy."

Silence again, until Jane said, rather breathlessly, "You need not tell me exactly what our aunt said, but are you nervous?"

"I am, but it will be well. I find Mr. Darcy incredibly attractive and have enjoyed our stolen kisses…"

"Lizzy!"

Elizabeth laughed and said, "Only a few, dear sister. In any case, we had a good discussion on the topic, and our aunt was sensible and encouraging."

"Good. I do not know if I will ever marry, but if I do, I will insist on having Aunt Gardiner talk to me ... or perhaps you."

"What are your thoughts on Mr. Bingley?"

Jane bit her lip and then said, "I have decided I will make no definite commitment for at least two months. I do like Mr. Bingley very much and have been impressed with his determination regarding his sisters, but a few days do not show much of anything. We will see what the next few months bring. I would not be surprised if Miss Bingley is currently displaying a sweet demeanor in order to worm her way back into her brother's good graces, and will soon show her true colors again. When she does, I want to observe what Mr. Bingley will do."

"That is very wise of you."

There was another minute of silence and then Jane said, "I confess to being startled by Lydia's improved behavior. It seems that married life suits her."

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, "though of course it is not married life in general, but marriage to an honorable man who is virtuous and sensible. Wickham would only have brought out the worst in her."

"That is true," Jane agreed sadly. "We have much for which to be grateful."

"Yes, and much of it is due to Fitzwilliam. He and his cousin, the colonel, found the three men who vied for Lydia's hand, and he paid Sir Christopher ten thousand pounds, and he also found Mrs. Greenfield, who is wonderful."

"She seems to manage Lydia very well."

"That describes it exactly, Jane. She manages to keep Lydia in check without upsetting her, which is not an easy task. Certainly I cannot do it! The last factor in Lydia's change of heart is that she faced a few hard truths. Commodore Quill, the naval officer, gave up his pursuit of her within a few days of the journey to Gretna Green, and Father made it very clear that if none of the men were willing to wed Lydia, she would be abandoned in Scotland with only Mrs. Greenfield for company. Furthermore, we had some good talks at night about money, and about good behavior, and about Wickham's evil. It has been a hard few weeks for our little sister, and thankfully she matured significantly in that short time."

"Praise God for that," Jane agreed solemnly.

/

Billiard Room

Netherfield Hall

Richard Fitzwilliam aimed his cue and knocked one ball in the vague direction of another ball. He missed, but that was no surprise, as his mind was very much on other things.

"Bingley?"

"Yes," Bingley replied, though rather absently, his eyes fixed on the white ball.

"I wish to inform you," the colonel continued, both grandly and awkwardly, "that I am interested in your younger sister, Miss Bingley."

His companion had only been listening with half an ear, and when his mind caught up with the words, his hand shook and the cue tip missed the ball entirely.

"What? Did you say ‘interested?'" Bingley demanded, spinning on his foot and gazing wide-eyed at his guest.

"Indeed. I spent considerable time with Miss Bingley while at Pemberley, and we have, I believe, achieved a friendship which may develop into something more. I wished you to know as you are her brother."

Bingley blinked a few times, his mouth hanging open, and said, "Caroline?"

"Yes," Richard returned with a mixture of amusement and indignation. "Do you find it so difficult to accept?"

The master of Netherfield swallowed and shook his head. "No, no, of course not. It is merely that Darcy, erm…"

"Darcy may be my cousin, but he has a very different temperament. Moreover, Miss Bingley and I have quickly come to communicate in an open and honest way, which apparently was impossible with Darcy, who is a more reserved sort of man."

"Are you responsible for Caroline's change of heart regarding the Bennets?" Bingley demanded as understanding dawned in his blue eyes.

The colonel shook his head. "I would say that Miss Bingley is responsible for her change of heart, but I hope that I have assisted her in some way. As I said, we had many useful conversations, which would be termed overly direct by some. But I think that I know your sister moderately well, and I like her. I am not saying I will offer for her, nor do I necessarily think she would accept me if I did. I am merely informing you that we are friends who might become something more."

Bingley regarded him thoughtfully. "I see. Well, Colonel, you have my blessing, if you need it. I confess to exasperation with both of my sisters over their part in separating me from Miss Bennet, but I am also cognizant that I was the one weak enough to let them and Darcy encourage me to stay away from Hertfordshire last autumn."

"Thank you for your blessing," Fitzwilliam replied, picking his cue back up and chalking it. He did not care a great deal about Bingley's matrimonial hopes, but he was encouraged that the young man seemed to be growing up a little and was not casting blame on others for his own lack of purpose.