Chapter 23 Happy Was The Day

Stormy introductions plagued the parlor as the wayward couple, fetched by the groom’s dutiful cousin, returned from their private interlude in the carriage house. Mr. Bennet, angered by his daughter’s duplicity, once more attempted to call his carriage, only to be thwarted by Mr. Gardiner. 

When Mr. Darcy’s butler announced dinner was ready to serve, a collective sigh of relief lessened the strained tempers. Accustomed to London dinner parties, half of the inhabitants of the parlor formed a natural promenade by rank.

Mary Bennet blushed as Colonel Fitzwilliam dutifully offered his arm to escort her into dinner. Unaccustomed to attention from gentlemen, for if Jane or Elizabeth were in the room their precedence outshined hers and her younger sisters were simply louder, she accepted his offer and they entered just behind Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. Mary turned over her shoulder to look wistfully at her aunt and uncle who were suddenly relegated behind her and the son of an earl. But her aunt’s wink buttressed her spirits and she gasped when they entered the dining room.

The spread of food arranged the entire length of the table gleamed in the warm glow from chandeliers above and candelabras between the silver platters. Men in powdered wigs stood sentry in livery, nearly one footman per diner, ready to assist with the heavy oaken chairs. 

When all took their seats, Elizabeth found herself seated between Lord Matlock on her right, Lady Matlock across from him, and her enraged father to her left. The Gardiners had been split up with Mr. Gardiner next to Lady Matlock and Mrs. Gardiner to the left of Mr. Bennet. Though she could not see her favorite aunt for support accounting to them sitting on the same side of the table, Elizabeth could spy across the way her sister Mary, sitting courageously between their Uncle Gardiner and her new acquaintance, Colonel Fitzwilliam. 

“Let’s have a toast, shall we? To the future Mr. and Mrs. Darcy?” Lord Matlock pronounced, lifting a glass and forcing everyone who had just settled in their seat to struggle against the chair’s weight once more.

Mary’s hand shook to raise her glass. Elizabeth wished to reassure her sister that the good Colonel was perfectly amiable and a gentleman. Even before Lydia eloped with Mr. Wickham, Mary held no preference for men in uniform.  Since the family crisis of Lydia’s disgrace, the middle Bennet daughter viewed soldiers as men unworthy of trust. But Elizabeth had walked many afternoons in the company of Colonel Fitzwilliam; her sister risked no danger in his acquaintance. 

“To my nephew, finding the love of his life and to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, who I hear has kept my nephew on his toes. May you two enjoy everlasting peace, prosperity, and be blessed in your marriage,” Lord Matlock proposed with his son, the Colonel, giving the largest “Hear, hear!”

As everyone resumed their seats, Elizabeth realized her father had not risen a glass nor stood for the toast. To her surprise, it was Lady Matlock who scolded her father.

“Mr. Bennet, you do not wish blessing upon your daughter’s nuptials?”

“My opinion on the entire matter is of no consequence,” he muttered.

“No consequence? No consequence?” Lord Matlock asked in astonishment. “As her father, I should say you must hold the most consequence!”

Elizabeth blushed as her father resumed his disabuse.

“Lizzy is of age, there is nothing she needs from me. If Mr. Darcy says they shall run off to Constantinople my daughter would pack her trunk,” he said, acidly.

“Father, London is hardly the Ottoman Empire,” Elizabeth said, quietly, earning a surprising small laugh from Lady Matlock, that swiftly turned into a rolling roar of laughter when her husband joined in.

“Forgive me! Forgive me!” Lady Matlock begged, patting her eyes. “Comedy of the absurd has always been my weakness.”

“The only thing that is absurd is the behavior of your nephew,” Mr. Bennet said, insulting his host as he emptied his wine glass.

Lord Matlock leaned forward so he could speak to Mr. Bennet directly, while Elizabeth sat back easing his aims but keeping her gaze upon Fitzwilliam. Her intended pressed his long fingers in front of him, staring icily at the man to one day become his father by marriage.

“While I agree with you in principle, or perhaps you know more than I,” Lord Matlock began, earning censure from his son at the end of the table in support of his cousin, “do you mean to say that you oppose this match?”

“Oppose it?” Mr. Bennet asked, over the objections of the Colonel. “I am certainly in no position to oppose it –“

“Then what do you intend to accomplish with your poor, bullish behavior to poor Lizzy?” Mr. Gardiner challenged his sister’s wife. “Before this entire episode, I might have thought Lizzy to be your favorite. Now I see I was mistaken.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyes began to mist over as he looked at his daughter next to him, refusing to look anywhere but Mr. Darcy.  “I have loved this child from the moment she took her first breath,” he began, fumbling for the words to say next. “But I have seen a side to this man others refuse to note. He bullied his friend, he bullied his aunt’s parson, a man of the church, and he failed to make any positive impressions in our small village. At most social gatherings he is cold, and rude even to the hosts. That he now wishes to take from me my daughter and has convinced her that she loves him, when just before he reappeared into our lives a fortnight ago, she assured me she held to regard for him whatsoever. I ask you, your Lordship, as a father how could I celebrate?”

Not even Richard could argue against such an account of his cousin’s behavior, for he knew the particulars at least of the Bingley affair. 

“Nephew? What do you have to say for yourself?” Lady Matlock pierced the silence with her motherly tone of hearing her child scolded, sounding more like she believed Mr. Bennet’s account over any explanation Fitzwilliam could offer.

Instead of answering his charges, Fitzwilliam quietly asked Elizabeth a question.

“You told your father you held no regard for me?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“I see,” Mr. Darcy said. 

“It was before we came to an understanding,” she said.

“Days before you came to an understanding!” Mr. Bennet corrected.

Elizabeth looked frantically to her father, wishing he would expand his tale, and when he did not, she swallowed her courage. Her throat dried up and her mind failed to find suitable words to explain how Mr. Collins incorrectly stated they were engaged when they were not, but then they became engaged shortly after. As her head ached with pain, Colonel Fitzwilliam began serving himself and Mary from the food before them.

“Miss Elizabeth, tell me, do you prefer rabbit in a pie or stewed?” he asked, loudly, as though such a terrible conversation have never occurred.

“Lizzy prefers it in a pie,” Mary answered, as her sister shook her head in mortification, unable to answer.

“Were you poorly behaved Darcy in, where was it again that you live?” Lady Matlock returned her inquiry to her nephew, asking Mr. Bennet for the location.

“My lands are just outside of the village of Meryton.”

“Meryton,” Lady Matlock said, with amusement. “With a name like that, sounds like it would be very rude, indeed, to be as cross as my nephew is on a good day. Yes,” she giggled, signaling for the footman to refill her wine glass, “one ought to be merry in a place called Meryton.”

Silently, Elizabeth mouthed an apology to Mr. Darcy, but she could not catch his eye. He instead filled his plate with food and began to eat as others spoke about him at his own table. 

“My father embellishes slightly, you see,” Elizabeth began, finally finding her voice. She took a deep breath and prayed Fitzwilliam would not be upset with her. “I lodged a similar complaint against Mr. Darcy in Kent, didn’t I, Colonel?”

“MMM, yes, yes,” he managed, his mouth full of food before he swallowed and then washed the bite down with wine. “You even prepared me for the dreadful report, if I recall?” 

The Colonel’s grin gave Elizabeth all the reassurance she needed to explain away her father’s rudeness. “Yes, and Mr. Darcy explained that he is not always at his best when he is unacquainted with the company.”

“And fathers are perhaps not aware that a daughter should rather perish than admit her true feelings, especially about a gentleman who had not yet declared himself,” Mrs. Gardiner added with a stern look at Mr. Bennet. The women in attendance nodded sagely at such an observation.

“Well Bennet, I have to say that perhaps your prejudices against my nephew are without merit,” Lord Matlock stated, believing the matter to be settled.

“And yet the matter of Mr. Bingley has no answer,” Mr. Bennet countered.

All eyes turned to Mr. Darcy, who smirked at his adversary, as his mood lightened considerably when Mrs. Gardiner rightly pointed out no young lady confides matters of the heart to her father and would deny any direct line of questioning in that realm.

Mr. Darcy cleared his throat. 

“I believe I am only surprised that Mr. Bennet does not see himself more at fault for the near-tragedy that was Mr. Bingley and Miss Bennet.” Mr. Darcy said, tending to his plate.

Elizabeth’s stomach twisted and turned as she finally forced herself to put food on her plate, being the only one at the table yet to do so. Still, she could not fathom lifting a bite to her lips. Instead, she nursed her wine glass.

“More at fault? I’m so pleased you explained you enjoy a comedy of the absurd, Your Ladyship, for I believe we may be able to witness more of it,” Mr. Bennet said, calmer in temperament and not believing for one moment the young whelp Mr. Darcy would best him in a match of wits. 

Mr. Darcy continued to enjoy his meal as half of the table hung on the next volley of words in the mock trial of Mr. Darcy’s manners. Richard and Mary enjoyed a whispered tete-a-tete at their end of the table, attracting only Mrs. Gardiner’s notice.

After the long pause in which Elizabeth finally managed to taste the larded oysters, Mr. Darcy spoke.

“If you considered Mr. Bingley a serious suitor for your eldest daughter last autumn, I wonder why you did not visit beyond your first? When we returned to London from Meryton for the festive season, you wrote not a line to Mr. Bingley, inviting him to speak to you. Did you expect Miss Bennet to write?”

Lady Matlock’s jaw dropped in shock at her nephew’s words and looked at Mr. Bennet with a new understanding entirely. 

“You mean Bingley is the friend you saved from the family of fortune hunters?” Lady Matlock asked, with far less discretion than how Colonel Fitzwilliam phrased the situation in the spring. 

“Yes,” Elizabeth answered, surprising everyone as they had expected Mr. Darcy to speak. Her eyes refused to lift from the fork in her hands, and both Lord and Lady Matlock began to speak at once at their nephew, suddenly unsure of such a match.

Mr. Darcy sat as they squabbled, with Mr. Bennet adding his sentiments that Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were moving much too fast in their plans to wed. The Matlocks began to wonder if Mr. Darcy and Miss Elizabeth should be married at all! To this, Mr. Bennet fumbled to hold his position against the marriage and not defend his daughter’s honor. 

“My Lizzy is not a fortune hunter, nor is my Jane. Or Mary,” he added, as Mr. Bennet saw the forlorn look from across the table. “Elizabeth turned down Mr. Darcy’s first proposal in Kent I have been told.”

The Matlocks argued with one another as Richard affirmed the same intelligence and Mr. Darcy dropped his silverware to his plate with an enormous clatter that silenced further squabbling. A single tear began to fall down Elizabeth’s cheek and Mr. Darcy stood from his chair, held a hand up to dismiss his footmen, and then strolled over to stand directly behind her chair. Gently pulling back the chair, he offered his hand that she gladly took, using her free hand to wipe her eyes.

“Miss Bennet and I shall marry in the morning. I hold a special license from the Archbishop, and that is our wish,” he pronounced.

Once more shock and surprise brought replies from the Matlocks and Mr. Bennet, and even the Gardiners raised alarm.

Mrs. Gardiner’s voice rang loudest, and the others of the elder generation quieted as she captured Elizabeth’s attention while she clung to Mr. Darcy for support.

“Please, Lizzy, do not be rash. We know you and Mr. Darcy are deeply in love with one another, but best to put your foot forward the correct way. Not only will you embarrass your sister by marrying before her, but you will also foster gossip and questions about your nuptials for the rest of your life.”

“And the privilege!” Lady Matlock cried out, unsure who at the table was aware of the settlement upon the lady that would step up to be Mrs. Darcy, earning a glare from her husband.

“Eleanora,” he whispered, trying to steer the conversation away from the sensitive topic, but his son seized on a new opportunity.

“What do you propose they do, Mrs. Gardiner?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked, earning an equally angry stare from his cousin that his mother earned from his father.

Mrs. Gardiner looked to her husband, unsure what to say. Mr. Gardiner also appeared at a loss for words, but quietly from the end of the table came the answer neither Elizabeth nor Mr. Darcy wished to hear:

“They should return to Hertfordshire and marry with Jane and Mr. Bingley. If they have the special license, there’s no need for the banns to be read, but I believe there’s still time,” Mary said.

“Mary!” Elizabeth said, frustrated that her sister would suggest such a plan.

“I believe your sister may be correct,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said, to the collective nods of his parents and the Gardiners. Mr. Bennet scowled. “Darcy, you know what whispers will follow your lovely bride at every turn.”

“Only until there’s more salacious gossip,” Darcy replied, acrimoniously. He tightened his left arm that was protectively around Elizabeth’s side, but she looked up at him quizzically.

“Would we be the subject of ridicule?”

Lady Matlock scoffed. “Lady Catherine has already wagged her tongue to Lady Jersey, and many more with disappointed hopes will invent the rest.”

“There, you say so yourself, there is no halting the tales many will tell to suit their aims at our expense,” Mr. Darcy pointed out, but was countered by his uncle.

Lord Matlock turned in his seat, but confounded by the angle and height his nephew held upon him, decided to stand instead before addressing the couple. 

“Careful, my boy, by your logic, we shall become barbarians in the morning. Let’s not forget we are members of a civil society, hmm?” he asked, making a point to look directly at Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bennet. “Apart from the scandal, the insult to Miss Bennet who is not present,” he began, before lowering his tone to a more gentle volume and speaking to Elizabeth directly, “I believe the larger obstacle sitting before you is that your future husband and your father do not get along, my dear.” Lord Matlock watched as Elizabeth exhaled in relief the breath she had not realized she was holding back. 

“Now, Fitzwilliam,” Lord Matlock brought his voice back to his normal volume that commanded respect when necessary, “if you are the man of honor I know you to be, it is upon you to mend this rift. Perhaps your best efforts will fall short, but if your lady is worth your offer to protect her the rest of your days, go back to Meryton. Stand by this friend you insulted, make connections to the home hamlet of your wife’s family, and stand up in church for witnesses to see and speak on the honorable match that was the stranger from Derbyshire and Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” he demanded.

Mr. Darcy felt a gentle squeeze from Elizabeth and glanced down to see her smiling back up at him. A slight pain pierced his heart as he wondered if her clear preference for another delay in their marriage was proof of her lack of regard. But she licked her lips and tears began to well in her eyes, he knew the responsibility of the decision lied with him. Quickly, he set aside what was best for his selfish desires and considered her needs. 

“If we return to Hertfordshire, spend three weeks winning over the neighborhood, will you join us for the ball to be held on the eve of our wedding and the wedding itself?” Mr. Darcy asked his aunt and uncle, surprising them with a demand of his own.

“Us? You wish for us to go to this leased estate?” Lord Matlock asked, suddenly revealing his prejudices against the nouveau riche.

“You made the case so flawlessly, Father, that Darcy must make amends. And that their wedding becomes above reproach. Why I shall even take leave and join you myself!” Colonel Fitzwilliam announced, looking at his mother who truly set the social calendar for the family.

Flustered, Lord Matlock tried to change positions but found no ally in Bennet.

“This all relies, of course, on Mr. Bennet seeking the banns to be read. We have not yet received his accord on the matter.”

Mr. Bennet stood as well, walking over to the sideboard where the wine lived with no footman to pour it. The entire dinner might as well have been a disaster, but the prospect of buying three more weeks to expose Mr. Darcy’s true colors was too tempting. 

“Oh, I shall happily petition our parson to read the banns, provided Your Lordship will attend my daughters’ wedding. I’m certain Mrs. Bennet will be delighted to hear of the new developments.”

“Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy asked as she pulled away from him to confront her father.

“If everyone is making agreements, then I have one more confession. I wish nothing more than to marry Fitzwilliam tomorrow morning and run away to Pemberley, never to step foot in London again,” she began, earning a reaction from Lady Matlock and Mrs. Gardiner chiding her for such a thought. Still, Elizabeth grinned and spun back around to face her father. “I don’t see why you wish to aid this plan of reading the banns and having us marry with Jane and Mr. Bingley when you were so set against it before.”

Mr. Bennet poured himself a full glass of red wine and held the goblet up. “I heartily toast to Mr. Darcy and my daughter Elizabeth’s happiness and health. An old man can learn from his mistakes, as I have said many times before. As I see it, this is my chance to also mend the rift with Mr. Darcy, my future son-in-law, and since you need a reason, Lizzy, have this one. I believe I should dearly like the ability to seek solace at Pemberley myself when your mother only has Mary and Kitty to keep her distracted.”

The table laughed at Mr. Bennet’s jest, but Elizabeth could only nervously chuckle. She disliked more than ever her father’s incessant putdowns of her mother, even if the woman was no favorite of hers. Mr. Darcy opened the door and invited the footmen back who dutifully whisked away the first course and set up the second, which was delayed by all of the discussion.

Helping Elizabeth to her seat, before finding his own, he whispered in her ear: “Three weeks is no wait we cannot make. And do please try the oysters this time, our chef is quite keen to learn your tastes.”

Elizabeth smiled at Mr. Darcy as Lady Matlock began to ask questions about Netherfield Park and the entire discourse suddenly became more pleasant all around. Instead of answering all of Lady Matlock’s queries, Elizabeth finally felt a ravenous appetite and helped herself to as many of the dishes around her as she could. Colonel Fitzwilliam kept the conversation going, as did her sister Mary, and even her aunt and uncle provided a few humorous stories about their travels to Hertfordshire in the past. 

By the end of the meal, Elizabeth felt consigned to the new plan of marrying at home, realizing she truly didn’t want any comparison to Lydia. As she enjoyed her meal and exchanged cheerful expressions with Mr. Darcy, her mind grew preoccupied with all of the sudden arrangements being made. Mr. Darcy even extracted a renewed promise from the Gardiners to spend Christmas at Pemberley, and Mary asked if she would also be allowed to go. While her father did not agree one way or the other but tabled the decision until he could speak to Mrs. Bennet, Elizabeth found herself staring at Lady Matlock while the woman oozed charm and kindness to her sister. Elizabeth had not forgotten that she brought up the privilege, and now Elizabeth wished to find out more about what she knew of the legacy. And if they were all to leave for Hertfordshire in the morning, she had to craft a plan to make it happen soon.