Chapter 31

O n the return journey to Rosings Park, as much as Lady Catherine hated spending time in an inn with all the lowlifes, there was no choice but to stop for the night about an hour and a half after departing Longbourn and her absolute humiliation.

Her coachman had suggested they stay overnight at the Red Lion Inn in Meryton. She had not told the servant why, but she had refused to remain in the town so close to the scene of her humbling. When they had arrived at the Hissing Gander Inn, Lady Catherine had not noticed that her parson was asleep. Instead, she was inside arguing with the landlord about his refusal to evict those who were in his best rooms for one as highborn as herself.

She had been about to claim that she was a peer of the realm when Mr Bennet’s words rang in her head. What degradation! It was the second time in the same day that someone so far below her rank had not been cowed by her. In the end she took the room which was available and marched up the stairs imperiously. Lady Catherine did not bother to rent a room for her parson. Why would she when it was his family who had issued a setdown to her, second only to the one of Reggie’s. She knew not where he was, but when he decided to enter the inn, he would pay for his own chamber.

Even though Mr Collins was a pusillanimous bootlicker and constantly flattered her, Lady Catherine began to think he was more trouble than he was worth. Reggie had threatened to contact the Bishop of Kent to inform him she was no longer allowed to appoint clergymen to the Hunsford living. She did not believe that with everything going on at that time with his late son that her brother would have thought to write a letter to the Bishop. Anne appoint the next parson? Indeed not! Now she needed to come up with a plan to make sure Anne was never allowed to replace her as mistress of Rosings Park.

Without another thought for her missing clergyman, Lady Catherine entered her far too small chamber.

The coachman and the attendant footmen had to leave the coach outside for the night as it was too large to fit into the already full coach house. None of them thought to check the interior of the conveyance after the horses had been unhitched and led into the stables.

Once they were happy the team—the one from the inn about two hours further on, where the original team was being kept—was well cared for, the coachman and footmen found places to sleep above the stables with the other manservants whose employers were overnighting at the inn.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

The previous night, Mary had been given the talk with Mama and Aunt Maddie together. It had been very comprehensive and rather than frighten Mary, like so many did to a bride on the eve of her wedding, it had left Mary in anticipation of the wedding night and marriage bed. Even had her mother’s and aunt’s information not increased her anticipation, she trusted Richard and knew how much he loved and respected her; hence she was sure he would never do anything with which she was not sanguine, or that which would hurt her.

The night had been particularly cold, freezing in fact, but Mary had felt none of it. Between the warmth generated by the fire in her room, the two warming pans which had been placed in her bed, and the warm counterpane when she had eventually fallen asleep, she had not been bothered by the cold.

Lizzy had agreed to be her maid of honour, which in Mary’s mind was entirely fitting. She had become almost as close to Lizzy as the latter and Jane were to one another. Her next older sister had just left her bedchamber after assisting Mary into her wedding gown. The gown was an empire waisted dress in rich burgundy satin which complemented her colouring very well. Sarah, the maid shared by the sisters who remained living at Longbourn, had assisted Lizzy in lowering the gown over Mary’s head in a way which did not disturb her intricate coiffure. Before she had left to go ready herself, the final thing Lizzy had done was to affix the gossamer veil to Mary’s hair.

Mama and her other three sisters had come to see Mary just after Lizzy went to ready herself. They wanted to see the glowing bride before they made the short walk to the Longbourn Village Church. There had been a few tears shed when Mama had told her she was the most beautiful bride. Jane had seconded Mama’s words as she, then Catherine and Lydia had hugged Mary gently so as not to cause any creases in her dress.

Alone once again, Mary admired the reflection she saw in her mirror, feeling confident Richard would be pleased when he saw her making her way up the aisle to him. With one more wistful look around the now almost empty bedchamber of her childhood—the trousseau and the bulk of her clothing were on their way to Hilldale and the trunk which would be lashed to Richard’s coach to be used during the wedding trip, was already downstairs—Mary glided out into the hallway and to the landing. From there she began to descend the stairs.

Bennet was standing at the base of the stairs with Lizzy. They both looked up as soon as they heard the creak from one of the stairs. “My goodness, Mary!” Bennet exclaimed, “how wonderful you no longer hide your light under a bushel. How beautiful you look.”

Even though she had already seen Mary after assisting her to dress, her sister’s beauty struck her all over again. Elizabeth could not believe this was the same Mary who not too long ago would never have shown the confidence she now did. “Papa is correct. Mary, you look like a princess,” Elizabeth stated. She felt awe at seeing her sister glowing with love for her soon to be husband.

“Then we should make for the church where my prince awaits us,” Mary quipped.

Bennet offered his middle daughter his arm, and Mary rested a hand on it lightly. With Elizabeth following behind to make sure Mary’s dress was not made dirty as she walked, they began the short walk to the church.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Fully aware that Lady Catherine would not tolerate the interior of her coach being extremely cold from the previous night’s frigid weather, the coachman and footmen fetched a good supply of heated bricks to place in the cabin of the carriage so that by the time her Ladyship decided to continue her journey, it would be warmed to a reasonable temperature. None of them wanted to have an angry Lady Catherine scolding them for the remaining hours until they reached the estate in Kent.

“Gorblimey,” the Irish footman who had entered the interior to receive the bricks, exclaimed.

“Murphy, wat the bloody ‘ell are you on about,” the coachman barked out.

“That priest musta’ slept in the coach. He be frozen an’ is no more,” the footman called out.

“You sure ‘e is dead?” the coachman verified.

“I be sure. The man is like a block of ice, his eyes be open, and his lips blue,” Murphy confirmed.

No one paid attention to the cooling bricks on the planks of wood the men had used to carry them to the carriage. The coachman turned to the other footman. “Hanson, go to the landlord and tell ‘im to summon the magistrate and doctor.”

The other footman was away with alacrity; he had no desire to be close to a corpse.

The landlord arrived within minutes and reported that the local magistrate and apothecary had been summoned. He left the coachman and footmen to watch over the chaise before returning to the warmth of his inn. His day did not improve on entering because the annoying woman who had demanded all sorts of unreasonable things last night was screeching for her coach.

“Madam, you will not be able to depart for at least another few hours,” the landlord told the harpy.

“Why is that? I want to depart from this hovel now, so why am I not in my carriage already?” Lady Catherine demanded. “Where is that fool Collins? Why is he not downstairs and ready to travel?”

“There was no one by the name Collins in my inn yester-night.” He had no patience for the demanding, rather unintelligent woman, and needing to head off the lengthy protests forming on her lips, the landlord decided he would not guard her sensibilities. “Until the magistrate says you may, you will remain here as they discovered a dead man in your coach. Just be thankful Mr Hempstead will not hold your carriage until the inquest has been completed.”

“How can I be delayed because some criminal is lifeless in my coach? This is not to be borne! I demand that I be allowed to travel on at once,” Lady Catherine shrieked.

“You are welcome to take the post, but your chaise will not be released until the magistrate permits your conveyance to be moved,” the landlord stated firmly. He ignored the outraged look on the woman’s countenance. “You may wait in the taproom.”

“How dare you! I am Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and I will not sit with commoners in a filthy tavern. I demand a private parlour,” she screeched.

After receiving a half crown for its use, the landlord had one of the serving girls show the virago to a private room. He had had members of the quality at his inn before, but this one thought she was the bloody Queen of England.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

As she sat in the pew with her family on one side and Miss de Bourgh on the other, Charlotte felt no guilt at remaining when her husband and his patroness had left. It was not as if Mr Collins had returned and told her to accompany him. She looked across at the Bennet pew which even before Mr Bennet sat, was far fuller than normal.

Her mother had pointed out Mr James Bennet and his three children to her, even though she had seen them at Longbourn when her husband and his patroness had been setdown. When she had first seen the younger Mr Bennet and his eldest son and their strong resemblance to Mr Bennet of Longbourn, she knew only a fool like her husband would not have seen it. Soon after Lady Catherine’s coach departed, she had met Miss Maria Bennet, who somewhat resembled Eliza, and the youngest of Mr James’s children, Abraham. The younger son had some vague similarities to his father, but she had learnt in conversation he had a lot of his mother’s looks in his face.

Anne de Bourgh, who was seated between Mrs Collins and Giana, had never felt freer. Giana’s and the youngest Bennet sisters’ companions, as well as her own, all sat directly behind where she and her young cousin were seated. Anne’s cousins Richard and William had promised to protect her, and when she turned five and twenty in a few days, they would support her and Uncle Reggie in enforcing her father’s will. Notwithstanding they had said she may, Anne would not disturb Richard and Mary’s honeymoon, even though where they were to be was not too far from her estate, as they would be at William’s house near Brighton. Between Uncle Reggie and William, she was certain her mother would have no defence.

Georgiana Darcy was so happy she felt like she could have squealed, and she may have had they not been seated in church. Today was the day her family expanded greatly, and when William and Lizzy married, she would no longer be the only sister. Without turning her head, she watched Henry Bennet who, in her opinion, was everything a man should be.

James had a great pleasure reacquainting himself with people who he had not seen for more than a quarter of a century. He took great pride in introducing his children to those in the neighbourhood. It amused him how the faces of mothers and aunts with marriage aged daughters and nieces fell when he let it be known that Henry would be attending Cambridge and would not be looking to settle down until after he had graduated at the earliest. Besides, he was aware that Henry’s eye had been caught by a certain young lady.

Sitting in the family pew again after so many years, James was greatly contented. The Bennets were a complete family once again, the only one who was missing was his Mattie, but he knew she was smiling down on them from heaven. James felt amused as he saw his very soon-to-be nephew trying to make time speed up and bring Mary to him.

Richard Fitzwilliam was past ready to be joined in matrimony with his Mary and had he not had the iron will and self-control he possessed, he would have been pacing back and forth in front of the altar. His eyes were on the inner vestibule doors which had just closed.

Next to the groom, Darcy was also staring intently at the doors through which one entered the nave of the church. His fiancée would be the first one to enter now that the doors had been closed. They had not discussed a wedding date yet, but he intended to broach the subject with her as soon as Richard and Mary were on their way to London, where they would spend the night. There were times he still felt like he needed to pinch himself to make sure this was reality. Thank goodness it was.

Darcy’s eyes locked onto the right hand door which had just been pushed open. He held his breath for a second and there she was, his dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, walking up the aisle with the confidence he would expect from her. Her eyes locked onto his and her face lit up at the pleasure of seeing him, which in turn made Darcy feel warm all over. How he loved this woman! The door closed behind Miss Bennet, and the rector Mr Pierce waited until Miss Bennet took her position opposite the groom and his best man. He nodded to the two men standing at the doors. Each man pushed a door open and stood back to the side. Mr Pierce gave the signal for those in the congregation to stand.

For Bennet, this was a bittersweet moment. As happy as he was that his daughter was marrying the man she loved, who loved and respected her in return, this was the second of his five daughters who was leaving his house. Before all of the changes, other than Lizzy and to a lesser extent Jane, he would have been happy to see them go, but no longer. Soon enough Darcy would be whisking Lizzy away to Derbyshire. There would then be just the two parents and two daughters left at Longbourn.

He was losing daughters, but in addition to his second son this day, he had regained his brother and James’s family who were now only three miles away at Netherfield Park. He would never regret writing the letter to James begging him to return.

Moments before Bennet stopped, Hilldale took his position at the head of the aisle to receive Mary’s hand on his arm. Bennet lifted the veil and kissed his middle daughter on the forehead. The moisture in his eyes was, of course, from the wind which gusted before he entered the church. As soon as the veil had been lowered again, Bennet placed Mary’s hand on Hilldale’s forearm.

While he took his place standing next to his beloved Fanny, Hilldale led his daughter up the two marble steps to stand before Mr Pierce.

The rector signalled the congregation to be seated. He opened his well-worn copy of the Book of Common Prayer to the liturgy for the wedding ceremony as prescribed by the Church of England. He looked over the assembled worshipers once and then began. “ Dearly beloved …”

When the parson asked if there were any objections, any of those who had been present when Lady Catherine made her ridiculous claims the previous day, looked at the door to see if that lady would dare to interrupt the wedding. Neither she nor her lacky Collins entered the church so there were no objections raised.

After what seemed like an eternity to the couple, Mr Pierce joined their hands together and intoned the final part of the liturgy. “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.

“Forasmuch asRichard and Maryhave consented together in holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to other, and have declared the same by the giving and receiving of a ring, and by the joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.

“God the Father, God the Son, God the Holy Ghost, bless, preserve, and keep you; the Lord mercifully with his favour look upon you; and so fill you with all spiritual benediction and grace, that ye may so live together in this life, that in the world to come ye may have life everlasting.Amen.”

Then Mr Pierce turned to face the congregation. “It is my pleasure to present to you, Lord and Lady Hilldale.”

A cheer rose from those present to witness the marriage. Those who had come to witness the ceremony and were not members of the family left after wishing the Viscount and Viscountess happy once the newly married Fitzwilliams had returned from the registry. No one felt slighted that they had not been invited to the wedding breakfast as it was well known that the groom was observing half mourning for his brother.

Once all of the friends had left the church, the Bennets, Fitzwilliams, Bingleys, Darcys, Hursts, Gardiners, and Phillips made the quick walk to the manor house where the wedding breakfast waited for them.

An hour later, Mary and Richard departed for London.

“Elizabeth,” Darcy said next to her ear after they were back in the house, “do you object if we set a date for our wedding?”

“No William, I have no opposition to that. The sooner the better,” she added saucily. “When we select a date, we need to make sure my parents are sanguine with it, even if I will no longer need their permission in a few short days.”

With Bennet’s permission, the engaged couple went to the study to look at the calendar. They chose the tenth day of April which would allow Mary and Richard to attend as they would have returned from their wedding trip by then.

Neither Fanny nor Bennet objected to the date. The latter pointed out it would be a few days after the entail was to be broken.