The Road to Pemberley (66 page)

“And?” pressed Elizabeth.

“Yesterday evening, I gave my consent to you. This morning, I gave my consent to Mr. Darcy, just as I told you I would.”

“But where
is
he?” She was desperate to see him. She suddenly felt very alone and only Darcy's assurances of love would ease her mind.

“By now, he is on the road to London.”

“To London! Father, what have you done?” Elizabeth was growing frantic. Her father was not being forthcoming with his information about Darcy, and if she understood correctly, it would appear that he had sent him away.

“I related to Mr. Darcy some of the details of our conversation last night. I told him that in five days you would be his. Today, he is traveling to London for the license. Business will keep him in town for three days. On the fourth, he will return to Netherfield and the company of his friends there, and the next day you will see him again early in the morning. He will be at the altar of the Longbourn church. I will accompany you to the church, escort you down the aisle, and give your hand to him. The pastor will solemnize your union, and thereafter you and he will be together.”

“But could he not wait to see me?” asked Elizabeth, frowning.

Mr. Bennet looked away for a moment. “I told him,” said her father, “to leave immediately. He will need to allow plenty of time to complete his errand, which is, of course, to obtain a marriage license.”

“It does not take three days to obtain a license, nor does it take an entire day to travel between Hertfordshire and London. Why am I not to see him until then?” asked Elizabeth.

“I would not have anything unexpected—some bureaucratic hitch—delay your wedding.”

“You sent him away!” cried Elizabeth.

Mr. Bennet blanched. It was one thing to confront Mr. Darcy. It was quite another to confront his daughter. “I can see how you
might think so. And perhaps I did.” He coughed. “Yes, I did. I sent Mr. Darcy away.”

“Why? Why did he have to go?” Elizabeth asked. Her cheeks were flushed.

Her father sighed. “Young people can be…impulsive. Their emotions are often in an uproar. They may allow their…feelings and…sensations to overtake their good sense. Do you understand me, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth sat heavily on a nearby bench. A tear escaped her eye.

“I shall dearly miss him, Father.”

“I know you will, and it is right that you should feel so. In five days, Elizabeth, you and he will be together. Please be patient.”

“Yes, Father,” said Elizabeth.

Mr. Bennet said cheerfully, “Besides, how much time would you allow yourself for preparations for your wedding and imminent departure if you spent every moment with Mr. Darcy? You realize, of course, that there is much to do.”

“Yes, that is true. In five days, I shall leave this place.”

“There is one chore that must be completed before any of the others. We must announce your engagement to your mother. She will be elated—until she learns that she will have no time for lace, finery and an elaborate ceremony.”

“Will she ever forgive me?”

“I will take the blame. After all, I—not you or Mr. Darcy—chose your wedding date.”

Elizabeth laughed and took his arm. Father and daughter returned to the house to seek out its mistress and share what would be both welcome and unwelcome news.

“Mrs. Bennet,” said Hill, “Mr. Bennet would see you in his library.”

“That is so like him, to just order me about.” Mrs. Bennet was at her work in her dressing room. She was always resentful of interruptions, particularly by her husband.

“Very well, Mrs. Bennet. Shall I tell Mr. Bennet that you are unable to see him now?” asked Mrs. Hill, trying to hide a smile. This was a ritual in which she participated any time Mr. Bennet summoned his wife. It would end no differently this time than any other time.

“No, no. Please, do not say such a thing. Of course, I will go and see what my husband desires of me.”

“Yes, ma'am,” replied Mrs. Hill.”

“Thank you, Hill. Well, I shall go see what Mr. Bennet is about now.” And with that, Mrs. Bennet left her dressing room, descended the stairs, and crossed the hall to stand in front of the library. After a moment's hesitation, she knocked on the door.

“Come in, Mrs. Bennet!” called her husband.

She entered the library with her head held high. “And just how did you know it was me? It could have been anybody, you know!”

“I was expecting no one but you, my dear. Please do sit down,” said Mr. Bennet as he pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

“Very well, Mr. Bennet. I am here. You have taken me from my work. Tell me what is so important.”

Mr. Bennet looked over his shoulder. “Lizzy, please come here.”

For the first time, Mrs. Bennet noticed that Elizabeth was also in the room. The young woman stepped out of the corner, walked
to her father, and stood next to him near his desk. Mr. Bennet took her hand.

“Mrs. Bennet, I have some very good news. Actually, it is our daughter who has the news.”

“Yes. Mama,” Elizabeth said. “Mr. Darcy and I are to be married. Papa has already given his consent. I do hope that—”

“Mr. Darcy!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “You are to marry
Mr. Darcy?!
”

Mrs. Bennet rose and began to pace the room. Elizabeth's heart sank. Nevertheless, her mother's disapprobation would not shake Elizabeth's determination to marry Mr. Darcy. Nothing would!

“You are to marry Mr. Darcy,” repeated Mrs. Bennet. “Lizzy, does he not have a house in town?” she asked.

“I believe so, Mama,” answered Elizabeth hesitantly.

“And does he not keep more than one carriage?”

“Several, ma'am.”

“And is not Pemberley a fine estate?”

“It is a beautiful place, Mama.”

“Oh, Lizzy! I am so happy! You have no idea! Another daughter married. Oh, Jane has done so well! You have done so well! How much pin money shall you have? Oh, never mind that. A house in town. Carriages! A large estate in the country. It is as good as a lord!”

“Hardly that, Mama,” said Elizabeth. “The Duke of Devonshire also resides in Derbyshire, and his income is much more than Mr. Darcy's. You must not say such things—”

“What do I care for a duke? Oh, Lizzy, I am so happy. Oh! Please excuse me, Mr. Bennet, I must immediately go into Meryton to tell the good news to—”

“Please, Mrs. Bennet. There is something else you should know,” said Mr. Bennet.

“What else could I possibly wish to hear? This is such wonderful news. Oh, Lizzy, please do apologize to Mr. Darcy for my having disliked him, and Lizzy, what is his favorite dessert?”

Elizabeth laughed. “I believe it is treacle tart and custard, Mama.”

“We shall have it this very evening. I am certain he will overlook my having disliked him. How could I possibly have imagined such a thing? How wonderful! First our dear Bingley and now our dear Darcy!

“Mrs. Bennet, please!” cried Mr. Bennet.

“Yes, Mr. Bennet?”

“Mrs. Bennet, you should also know that this wedding will take place in the morning five days from now.”

“How can that possibly be? Oh, Lizzy, you know that we must travel to London for your clothes. I have never trusted the modiste in Meryton ever since she…well, never mind. I shall send a note to my sister Gardiner. We will stay at her house while in town. I would expect that eight or nine weeks will be sufficient time—”

“Five days, Mrs. Bennet!”

“The young people do not know what they are about, you must see that!” answered Mrs. Bennet.

“I am pleased to see that we do agree on one thing. Yes, the young people do
not
know what they are about. Therefore, I have chosen their wedding date for them, and it will be in five days. I have promised them both, and I will fulfill my commitment.”

“Mr. Bennet, I will speak with Mr. Darcy, and I am certain he will—”

“Indeed, Mrs. Bennet, I have had extensive conversations with both our daughter and Mr. Darcy, and I assure you that a long engagement is impossible.” Mr. Bennet glanced over at Elizabeth, who was hiding a blush by adjusting her hair-pins.

“I am the bride's mother. Do I not have some voice in the matter?” asked Mrs. Bennet.

“Mrs. Bennet, you may have as much voice in your eldest daughter's wedding plans as she will allow, but you will have none in Elizabeth's. In five days, she will be Mrs. Darcy. Make what plans you can. Once the service is over, they will immediately leave for Pemberley. There will be no need to plan a wedding breakfast. Mr. Darcy must be in Derbyshire within a week's time, and he will not leave without his bride.”

“No, I suppose that he would not wish to do that,” Mrs. Bennet said slowly. “Leave without his new wife, that is. And his new wife will be our Lizzy.” Her eyes sparkled. “Very well, then, Mr. Bennet., Mr. Darcy shall return for dinner and I will congratulate him then and let him know that I had been considering this very thing. What an excellent wife Lizzy will make him. I shall tell him I knew it all along!”

Mrs. Bennet ran from the room, unable to contain her joy, and gave orders in the kitchen for treacle tart and custard. Several hours later, she would learn that her future son-in-law was not to return to Hertfordshire until the very moment of his wedding.

Clink.

Elizabeth awoke to the sound of small rocks glancing off her window. Looking outside, she could see the lawn, which was illuminated by a full moon…

Clink.

…And directly under the window was Mr. Darcy. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw him. Every feeling of love, longing,
and desire she had for him burst to the surface, and she had to restrain herself from crying out.

She acknowledged Darcy with a wave and watched him walk off into the shadows. Pulling her robe over her nightgown, she crept down the stairs, avoiding the noisy steps, and stole out of the house.

The heavy latch of the door locked into place. Elizabeth paused, straining to hear any sound coming from the house. There was none. Her heart pounding with excitement, she ran around the front of the house to the side, where she expected to find Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Bennet was oblivious to time while reading a book, and his candle would often burn late into the night as he pursued his favorite occupation. Tonight, the subject had been a little dull, and as his candle burned low and then out, he fell asleep in his chair. It was the night before Elizabeth's wedding, and he was sorrowful at the thought of losing her.

It was not a rare thing for him to fall asleep reading, but it was rare—unique, really—for him to be awakened by the sound of the front door closing.

He looked toward the window as he rose from his chair, and was in time to see a blur of silk and dark curls rush by.

Mr. Bennet paused for a moment, chuckled to himself, and then retired to his bedchamber.