Page 92 of To Love And To Cherish
Bingley grinned. "Yes, and she’s not one of those women with claws and horns."
Darcy raised a brow. "And teeth. I've seen such marriages. It’s an untenable life."
"A fate often worse than death," Bingley agreed gravely.
Darcy looked up and beckoned his sister to come near. Elizabeth joined him, and his sister followed close behind. "Georgiana, you will travel with us to London. You need gowns. Mrs. Reynolds tells me your hems have already been let down. Soon you’ll be showing ankles."
Georgiana blushed, and Elizabeth squeezed her hand.
"You’ll both go shopping together," Darcy said.
"When do you leave?" Bingley asked.
"I wish I could say never," Darcy replied, "but the settlements must be signed, Kitty delivered home, and I must introduce Elizabeth to the ton. I’ll ask Aunt Helen to plan a dinner, but she may force me into a ball. We shall see."
Georgiana sighed, then looked abashed.
“What is it, Georgiana?” Darcy asked.
“I am sorry, I did not mean to sigh aloud,” she replied softly. “It is only that I had hoped we might spend Christmas here at Pemberley this year. We have not done so since the year you left on your grand tour. I was but twelve the last time I celebrated Christmas at home with you and Father.”
Darcy’s expression softened, tinged with sadness. Before he could speak, Elizabeth said gently, “There is no urgency in having the marriage settlements signed. We have both been travelling for months; we may surely take a little time to remain here and rest. We can go to Longbourn in January.”
Chapter 47: With Elizabeth at Pemberley
Although they dined that evening in the smallest of Pemberley's three dining rooms, the one used for informal family meals, the room was anything but modest. Elegantly proportioned, it was adorned with fine mahogany furniture, silk wallpaper in a pale damask, and paintings so expertly rendered they might have graced a gallery. A sparkling chandelier hung overhead, casting a warm glow over the polished table where they were all gathered comfortably.
But Elizabeth, though outwardly composed, was struggling to reconcile the grandeur of her surroundings with the course her life had taken. That she was now mistress of such a house, a house with three dining rooms, twenty bedchambers, two drawing rooms, numerous saloons, a music room, a ballroom, an orangery, a nursery, two libraries, and separate offices for both the housekeeper and the butler, seemed nothing short of absurd. Eleven days ago, she had been the second daughter of a gentleman with a dwindling estate and an anxious, often mortifying mother. She had always been her father's favorite, but even that small distinction came with quiet sorrow: he had admired her wit but never shielded her from the wounds inflicted by her mother’s favoritism toward Jane and disdain for Elizabeth herself.
And now, now she sat here, in the lap of luxury, with a husband who adored her.
Across the table, Darcy watched her with quiet perception and recognized the expression in her eyes. She was overwhelmed.
To draw her from her reverie, he said lightly, "Darling, has Kitty told you about her visit to Hunsford Parsonage? I am quite eager to hear about Mr. Daniel Grant."
Elizabeth smiled and turned toward her sister. "No, Kitty, you’ve been holding out on me. When will you visit Mary, and what are the travel arrangements?"
Kitty beamed. "We leave the second week of March. The roads should be a little drier by then. Sir William Lucas will drive Charlotte and me down in his carriage, but he will only remain two nights, just enough time to rest his horses. After he returns home, Charlotte and I will remain for two months. However, Mary writes that I likely won’t return at all! She is certain Mr. Grant will make me an offer."
Elizabeth tilted her head. "Does Mary say why she believes the match a near certainty?"
Kitty giggled. "Yes! She says Mr. Grant is extremely reticent, rarely speaks to anyone, never dances, and almost never attends the Hunsford assemblies. She thinks what he needs is a young woman who is friendly and brave enough to draw him out."
Elizabeth laughed. "Well, Kitty, you are certainly friendly and fearless. But do not be too distressed if the match fails to blossom. We don’t yet know what Mr. Grant thinks of marriage. How old is he?"
"Four and twenty," Kitty replied quickly. "That is plenty old for a man to marry."
Elizabeth smiled. "It is for some men, yes. But others view marriage as a leg shackle, a fate to be avoided until absolutely necessary."
"Lizzy!" Kitty gasped through another laugh. "You say the funniest things."
Elizabeth turned to Bingley. "Mr. Bingley, do tell us, am I wrong? Do not many men delay marriage until compelled by duty or dwindling options?"
Bingley laughed. "Not wrong at all, Elizabeth. Most men enjoy their freedom until a parent or their pocketbook demands a change."
"Then, Kitty," Elizabeth said with a wink, "I wish you happy hunting. You know your own mind, and if you choose marriage at seventeen, who am I to advise otherwise?"
Darcy interjected with a new question. "Who is Miss Charlotte Lucas? What makes her such a welcome guest at Hunsford Parsonage?"
