Rebellion at Longbourn

Darcy wished he could give her more reassurances, but he had none to offer. Reluctantly, he climbed over the fence again.

They stood facing each other—only two feet apart, but the distance felt far greater.

He reached out to stroke the side of her face. “I love you, Elizabeth, and cannot wait until you are my wife.”

Her cheek leaned into his touch. “I cannot wait either. I love you, William.”

Darcy memorized the besotted expression on her face so he might take out the image and treasure it throughout the long night that would follow. And then he turned to make the lonely trek back to Netherfield.

Chapter Twenty

Elizabeth had guarded many secrets during her lifetime, particularly in recent months. But of all the secrets she had kept, her wedding was the one she most longed to reveal. She was to be wed to a man she dearly loved—and wished she could tell every person she passed on the streets of Meryton.

The rector, Mr. Thomas, had agreed to perform the ceremony in two days and had accepted the need for silence, seeing no reason for concern since Elizabeth was of age to marry. Discreetly, Elizabeth and Darcy proceeded to spread the word to select family and friends.

Georgiana was able to visit Elizabeth—Collins’s opinion was not consulted—and had the opportunity to bear the wedding gown to Longbourn. Elizabeth modeled the gown—an exquisite silk confection—for Georgiana and her sisters behind closed doors. Elizabeth had never given much attention to fashion, but she recognized that William’s taste was exquisite. The gown fit her perfectly and heightened her eager anticipation for the wedding day.

Charlotte, quite pleased that she had been the first to predict Mr. Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth, undertook—with Hill’s assistance—surreptitious preparations for a wedding breakfast. Mr. Bingley had offered to host it at Netherfield, but Charlotte asserted Elizabeth’s right to be celebrated in her family home. Elizabeth believed it was for the best; Netherfield’s spying scullery maid had been dismissed, but she could not trust the discretion of the other staff.

Mrs. Greeves circulated the information among the tenants—whom Elizabeth had specifically invited. She could only pray that nobody would let the news slip to Collins. He could not prevent her from marrying William, but she saw no need to give him forewarning so that he might lay plans to disrupt her day.

Elizabeth most regretted not sharing the news with her mother, who would be overcome with joy. But Mrs. Bennet was incapable of keeping a secret and would have longed for an extravagant event requiring months of planning. Neither Elizabeth nor Darcy had any desire to wait.

The morning of the wedding dawned fair. Elizabeth had slept little, rising early to dress and have Kitty arrange her hair. Jane and Mary helped her carefully don the elegant wedding gown. As she perused herself in the mirror, Elizabeth felt as if she had been transformed into a princess.

Jane, who was to stand up with the bride, appeared nearly as jittery as Elizabeth. Her sisters, arrayed in their best day dresses, assembled at the head of the stairs. They descended the stairs together and entered the breakfast room en masse. Elizabeth was grateful for the show of solidarity. Although she was prepared for Collins’s inevitable ire, she was not looking forward to facing it.

Upon their entrance, their mother was the first to notice something different. “My goodness, why are you girls so dressed up? And—Lizzy! What gown are you wearing? I have never seen it before in my life!”

Kitty squealed with delight, unable to contain her excitement any longer. “Mama, you must go and put on your prettiest gown. You will want to appear to your best advantage at the wedding.”

Their mother nearly spit out a mouthful of coffee. “What wedding?”

“Lizzy is marrying Mr. Darcy today!”

Such was Mrs. Bennet’s shock that she was struck dumb for nearly a full minute. By the time she was babbling excited questions, Kitty had steered her out of the breakfast room, and they were nearly in her bedchamber—where Polly would help her change into a finer gown.

The rest of the sisters remained to face Collins. His face had grown a remarkable shade of red, but he had regarded them in silent shock for several minutes. He made several abortive attempts to speak and then reconsidered. He stood and then quickly sat down again, as if he did not quite know what to do with himself.

Finally, he addressed his wife. “Mrs. Collins,” he said in a strangled voice, “did you know anything about—” Turning to his wife for the first time, he realized that Charlotte was wearing her best clothing as well. “You did not warn me? You knew what they planned and did nothing to prevent it?” He mopped his brow with a handkerchief.

Charlotte serenely continued to butter her toast. “I do not believe it is our place to decide who Lizzy will wed.”

“But…but schemes in my own house?” he stammered. “Lies and secrets…!”

Ah, Cousin, if you only knew…

“It is—It is scandalous!”

Charlotte took a sip of coffee. “Your cousin is marrying one of the richest men in England. I fail to see what is scandalous about the match.”

“But the purity of the Darcy blood! Lady Catherine has done so much to ensure that the family lines will not be polluted.” Collins twisted the handkerchief in his hands, obviously worrying that her ladyship would blame him for the marriage.

“Sir, I have been accused of many things, but never before has someone viewed me as pollution.” Elizabeth managed a tone of amusement despite the insult.

Leaping to his feet, Collins banged a fist on the table. “No! This will not happen. I will not allow it.”

Elizabeth abandoned all pretense of civility. “You do not have the authority to prevent it. This wedding will occur, with or without your approbation.”