Mr. Darcy Takes the Plunge (38 page)

Before the guests departed, the three brides retrieved their wedding bouquets; and each plucked a bloom to be pressed and saved as a memento of the special day. Georgiana then sought Miss Darcy and handed her sister the arrangement of pink peonies. "Dearest, I want you to have this; yet it does not follow that you must be the next to marry. Promise me you will wait until you are ready and absolutely certain of doing so for love." She caressed Anna's cheek and said, "Whoever he may be, your future husband will be a very fortunate man; and I hope you will be as content as I shall be with Ellis. I love you, Anna, and shall miss you desperately; so you must promise to write often and keep me informed of the further adventures of Barb Thorne and Herr/Fraulein Stewart."

"I will, Georgie ... " Anna's eyes welled with unshed tears. " ... and you must send me news of Dust Bunny and Pug-Nacious." The younger sister was downcast and lowered her gaze as she spoke. "But I suppose married women have never much time for writing."

"Nonsense! I shall write so regularly, you will quickly become quite sick of hearing from me."

"Oh, no, never! I shall miss you very, very much!" Anna flung her arms around Georgiana and held tight. "When shall we meet again, do you suppose?"

"You know full well that Ellis and I are not going so very far away at all. We will be visiting Pemberley frequently, and you must come stay with us whenever it pleases you. I am delighted you have chosen to accept the offer from our brother and Lizzy, so please write and tell me of your journey. But now, dearest sister, I must start my own journey as Mrs. Fleming. My husband is waiting for me." She offered a hand to her sibling. "Come and wave good-bye, Anna. I want to see your beloved face as Ellis and I pull away from Pemberley."

Across the room Jane Fitzwilliam carried on a very similar conversation with Mary Bennet and passed her the bouquet of Damask roses. Miss Bennet's expression was wistful as she said, "Oh, Jane, there is someone I hope may make me an offer some day in the future. I realize I am far too young yet, but ... "

"Mary! Who is this wonderful young fellow? I know he must be a singular gentleman to have captured your regard. Am I acquainted with him? Is he, perhaps, a brother of one of your seminary friends? I am all curiosity."

Mary smiled enigmatically and shook her head. "I shall not disclose his identity yet, other than to say you
are
acquainted with him. Now go." She giggled and continued, "Your handsome barbarian is waiting for you." Jane kissed her sister's cheek, and they walked hand in hand to where Richard impatiently waited for his bride.

Miss de Bourgh was surprised when she was presented with Elizabeth Darcy's wedding bouquet of roses. "Lizzy, how sweet ... and prophetic too ... albeit a tad tardy. Thank you, cousin."

"A tad tardy prophetically? Anne Catriona de Bourgh, is there something I should know?"

"Well, I am unsure if Charles wants anyone else to be informed as yet. He is asking Mother for permission as we speak. Oh, good grief! She is very fond of our Mr. Bing, so I hope she does not assume he is actually proposing to her."

"Anne! Do be serious. Did Mr. Bingley truly make you an offer?"

"Yes, indeed ... one I could not refuse, complete with an emerald. Do you want your roses back?"

"Silly goose. May I see the emerald?"

Miss de Bourgh held out her left hand and wiggled her fourth finger. "It is an en-gag-ment ring."

"Do you mean an engagement ring? It is very beautiful."

"Well, yes, it is certainly that. However, I almost gagged and broke a tooth because it was in my slice of wedding cake. Ergo, it shall be named en-gag-ment ring from this day forward."

"I would still prefer to call it an engagement ring, Anne; but as Shakespeare said, 'What's in a name? That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet.' Congratulations, my friend. I am very happy for both of you."

They hugged. "Thank you, Lizzy, and thank you also for the bouquet of roses. The gesture was very thoughtful of you. Speaking of roses, being married to my impeccable cousin shall not be a bed of them, you know."

"Every rose has its thorn."

"Yes, but if Fitzwilliam's behaviour becomes obnoxious, you must promise me to nip it in the bud."

"I cannot, even in my wildest dreams, imagine Fitzwilliam ever being obnoxious. Nonetheless, since we were speaking of gardening, I do remember he once had a green thumb, green hair, green shirt, and ..."

The rich, resonant voice of her husband startled Elizabeth, and she jumped. "Ladies, I am almost afraid to ask about your pre-seeding conversation. When you two speak with one another, I never know the ground rules and am always garden my comments. I feel quite green and must pro-seed by trowel and error."

"You heard?" his wife guiltily asked.

"Every word after 'speaking of roses.' Did I miss anything noteworthy prior to that?"

Anne waggled her left hand in front of his face. "I am en-gagged. I have snagged and bagged Bingley."

"Ah! My best wishes then, Annie." He bent to give her a hug and to kiss her cheek. "Poor Bingley! I hope my wretched friend shall take time to smell the roses once in a while." He was duly rewarded by a pinch on his arm.

All guests had at last departed Pemberley except for the six newlyweds and their families. The Colonel's fine new carriage, a wedding gift from his parents, stood at the drive ready to carry its owner and his wife to well-appointed Waterstone Inn, where the bride and groom would remain for ten cozy nights before journeying to London to stay at Matlock Manor while Richard finalized the resignation of his commission. The couple would subsequently travel to Kent and settle at Rosings Park. Leave had already been taken of the Bennets and Darcys, and Richard and Jane stood chatting with the Fitzwilliam family.

Viscount Wentletrap, the Colonel's older brother, had a relatively enjoyable afternoon quaffing more than his share of Mr. Gardiner's generous contribution to the festivities. As he bent to kiss his new sister's hand for the third time that day, he nearly keeled over and took Jane with him.

With quick reflexes, the Colonel rescued them before they took a tumble. "Whoa there, James! Steady, man. Sorry, darling Jane, but I believe my brother is as drunk and wobbly as a wheelbarrow."

The Viscount put his arm around Richard and cheerfully quoted Lord Byron. "Man, being reasonable, must get drunk; the best of life is but intoxication."

"Well, brother, Lord Byron also said, 'The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.' The sensation you are feeling now will not exist long, and the pain is certain to come later. Please take good care of this poor sot, Lady Isabelle."

The Viscountess, who was with child and rather exhausted, gently took her husband's arm. She smiled at her brother-in-law and said, "Colonel, you and I have had our differences in the past; all the same, I sincerely wish you and your wife much happiness. Years ago at our own wedding James and I vowed for better, for worse; and we have had quite enough worse, so we are attempting better for a while. Is that not true, husband?"

"Ah, Isabelle, I never knew what real happiness was until I married you ... and then it was too late." He winked at his brother and then placed a loud, wet, sloppy kiss on his wife's cheek.

Richard rolled his eyes, patted James on the back, and led Jane over to take their leave of Lord Matlock and Lady Rebecca.

There had been tears and laughter as the Bennets, Darcys, and Fitzwilliams said farewell to the newlyweds; and servants cheerfully tossed shoes, for luck, toward the departing carriages of Mr. and Mrs. Fleming and Colonel and Mrs. Fitzwilliam. Finally Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy stood alone on Pemberley's front steps and waved as their families pulled out of sight.

Darcy and Elizabeth were to spend their first week of connubial bliss at Pemberley before heading to Northumberland. The Gardiners planned to spend several days in Lambton before returning to London; and the Bennet family, Anna Darcy and her parents, Mr. Bingley, and the de Bourghs would all be guests of the Earl of Matlock at his Derbyshire estate before traveling onward to their own homes.

Alone at last!
Darcy tucked his wife's hand into the crook of his arm as they turned toward the entrance hall. "Elizabeth, I could not help but notice you hardly ate anything at all this afternoon. You must be famished, but would you prefer to rest and refresh before we dine?"

She nodded and said, "I admit I did far more chatting, smiling, and dancing than anything else, and it is certainly later than I imagined the celebration would last. But, oh, Fitzwilliam, everything was simply
perfect
! Your parents are the quintessential host and hostess; and I fear, as mistress of your estate, I shall be unable to live up to your expectations."

"Dearest, I do not expect you to be perfect." He smiled at her as they ascended the staircase to their rooms. "Just please understand why I am not."

"Agreed." She nudged him with her elbow, and he nudged back.

"Is everything to your satisfaction here at Pemberley, Elizabeth? Are your chambers comfortable?"

"Yes, and you have asked me that exact same question at least a thousand times since my arrival. How could they not be? I understand, from Anna and Mrs. Reynolds, that my apartments are those normally reserved for the likes of a marchioness or duchess. I am duly flattered and honoured, sir."

"It is true. We once had two duchesses staying here during the same week, and we thought they were going to
duke
it out over which of them would be accommodated in those particular rooms. Fortunately, they did not resort to fisticuffs."

"Finally, a pun! I was beginning to speculate over our lack of knack for wordplay, sir."

"This evening, Elizabeth, shall be reserved for play of a different variety. I will come to escort you to dinner in, say, an hour?" He kissed her hand and left his blushing bride to the ministrations of her abigail, Ann Cillary.

The romantic, candlelit repast was served in a private dining room with a small fireplace and a table only large enough for two place settings. After their hunger was sated, Darcy asked if Elizabeth would care to join him for a short stroll along the river. Never one to pass up an opportunity for a walk, she agreed; and servants fetched their outerwear.

As they sauntered alongside the bourn, the gentleman repeatedly peeked at his fob watch. "Sir, why do you so secretly and frequently verify the time? Do you have an assignation tonight, perchance?"

Darcy startled at being caught, put the timepiece back in its waistcoat pocket, and smiled down at his wife. "As a matter of fact, yes; and the rendezvous must be perfectly synchronized."

She began to solicit his meaning, but her words were cut off when his warm lips claimed hers just as a shrill, whizzing whistle pierced the silence. An unexpected boom made Elizabeth jump; and as she stepped back and opened her eyes, the night sky above the stream was alive with colour. She laughed with delight and clapped her hands. "Fireworks yet again, Fitzwilliam! And finally they are authentic." The impressive display lasted another few minutes, although its splendour was totally wasted on the newlyweds whose senses were more agreeably engaged.