Page 109 of The Scarred Duchess
The carriage arrived in Mayfair, and stopped a short distance from Somerset House. Outriders stood sentinel, waiting to circle their individual horses to keep them warm. Footmen lined the high street; augmenting them were two columns of mounted soldiers posted between the conveyance and the household servants.
The carriage door opened. Jane looked at her husband. “Are you not handing me out?”
“Another has usurped my wants.”
A massive scarred hand reached into the compartment. Surprised, Jane looked at John. “Usurped, indeed!”
Smiling, she gave her hand to Bill and exited the carriage. The sun touched her cream wedding bonnet and reflected off its smart matching ribbon.
Her husband nimbly hopped to her side as Bill stepped away. A loud baritone resounded. “Attention!”
Servants and soldiers alike fell silent.
“Present... arms!”
The sound of a dozen pairs of sabres sliding out ofscabbards tore through the air. Two dozen upraised sword tips met to form a tunnel.
Jane, astonished, looked at her husband. “Is this your doing?”
He shook his head. “This has all the signs of your father’s connexions. I believe the Royal Horse Guards would seek to honour the daughter of one of their own.” He nodded towards the path. “They await your acknowledgement, my dear.”
“I daresay you are correct.”
Jane raised her hand, palm towards her face, and waved. The applause was thunderous. Feet stomped and spectators cheered repeatedly behind the columns of cavalrymen and servants. As the cacophony ebbed, the largest man any would likely see returned to her side and blocked the sunlight.
“Are you well, Duchess?” Bill rasped.
Jane looked up to her right. “Yes, my dear Bill.”
She turned to her left and studied John. She grasped his hand, earning her a smile beyond compare.
“I am now.”
EPILOGUE
June 1816
The Bennet carriage rolled through the gates of Pemberley. The long carriage road curled under a stately portico. The estate’s master and mistress stood waiting, with other beloved family crowding the steps behind them.
“Look. William and Mary are already here!” said Lydia.
“As is Lady Catherine!” Kitty added.
“Do you not mean Catherine the Great?” asked Bennet, having given his two youngest their comfort and sat beside Franny on the rear-facing bench.
“Papa!” Lydia exclaimed. “How you tease!”
“How lovely the grounds are, Thomas. Are they not?”
His inclination to be the curmudgeon faltered with the thought of his daughters and grandchildren together for a house party. “They are, my dear,” he said. He kissed his wife’s hand.
Their carriage stopped before the beautiful edifice Elizabeth called home. The four Bennets descended from thecarriage; the last moment of silence they would have for the next six weeks ended as Kitty and Lydia flew to their sisters, excited to see their niece and nephews.
Franny nodded at Darcy before reaching out and grasping Elizabeth’s hand. “Lizzy, dear, it has been too long,” she exclaimed. “The children are grown so large!”
Elizabeth laughed and shifted the dark-haired baby in her arms. “Mama, Bennet is in leading strings and Robert scarcely walking.”
Bennet joined his wife. “Mrs Darcy. Mr Darcy.” He winked at Elizabeth before kissing her hand and shaking Darcy’s. He knelt to shake hands with the small boy clinging to Darcy’s leg. “Is this young man prepared to take his marching orders from Colonel Grandpapa?”
