A Wife for Mr. Darcy

two youngest Bennets had to give way, but not before Lydia had commented, “Mr. Darcy did not send the carriage for you, Lizzy. Everyone knows that he does not like you, but we became friends when we were together in Brighton. Mr. Wickham…” Jane shooed Lydia away from the carriage. Even the patient Jane had tired of Lydia and her stories of Brighton and her dear Wickham.
    While Bingley stood by the church door so that he might assist the Bennet ladies, Darcy, along with Georgiana, waited inside the vestibule for Lizzy to arrive. Because no one knew of their relationship, the couple had to be satisfied with furtive glances, of which there were to be many. Even though Darcy realized the necessity for circumspection, this endless waiting was having a deleterious effect on him and the only possible explanation for his sending Mercer to London with a note asking Antony to come to Netherfield. He hoped that was not a mistake.
    When the bride walked down the aisle, Lizzy was elated. Charlotte Lucas, who did not like any fuss, had chosen a pale yellow dress that showed off her complexion and dark hair beautifully, and the effect was more than satisfactory. In contrast, Mr. Collins wore his parson’s suit with black hose that accentuated his spindly legs, but because he was so happy that his wedding day had finally arrived, his whole demeanor was one of pure joy. Even Lizzy had to smile when she saw the beaming parson.
    The wedding breakfast was attended by intimate friends and family, all wishing Mr. and Mrs. Collins joy. In short order, the musicians began playing, and couples flocked to the dance floor. Darcy dearly wanted to ask Elizabeth to dance, but his presence in any venue always drew scrutiny. He did not want anyone gossiping about him until he was prepared to make an announcement, but surely one dance could do no harm? He had been making his way toward Elizabeth when there was a commotion in the foyer. The source of the excitement was quickly revealed: Antony, Lord Fitzwilliam, had arrived.

    Darcy and Georgiana looked at each other in alarm. Antony wasn’t supposed to be here. The note had specifically told him to go to Netherfield Park. To add to the confusion, the earl was not alone. With him were his daughters, Amelia and Sophia, and a Madame Konig, who was being introduced to the guests as the girls’ “traveling” governess.
    Sir William and Lady Lucas’s joy at having an earl in their home could barely be contained. When Lady Lucas was excited, she always spoke too loudly and in a shrill voice, and while his wife was nearly shouting, Sir William was almost speechless, hemming and hawing and harrumphing his way through his introductions of Lord Fitzwilliam.
    After acknowledging everyone’s bows, Antony asked to be directed to the bride and groom. Using his prerogative as a member of the nobility to always get his way, as soon as Lord Fitzwilliam made eye contact with Mr. Collins, he let him know that he must wait his turn as the earl would first speak to his wife.
    “Mrs. Collins, my heartfelt congratulations, and may I add that you are absolutely glowing, bringing much-needed sunshine to a drab autumn day? I hope you do not mind me joining you on this the happiest of occasions. I was supposed to go to Netherfield, but when I learned there was a wedding in the village, I could not resist. My only regret is that I arrived too late to attend the ceremony and thereby serve as a witness to the exchange of vows.”
    “It was a simple ceremony, milord,” Charlotte said, trying to hide a smile. The sight of this aristocratic dandy, in his green brocade jacket standing next to her husband in his parson’s attire, was too funny for words.
    “When it comes to church services, Mrs. Collins, simple is good; short is even better. May I ask, did you cry? I did at my wedding. In fact, my brother had to keep handing me one handkerchief after another, and it did not stop with the ceremony. I cried all through the wedding breakfast and for a good many days after that.
    “And this gentleman is now your husband,” he said, turning to Mr. Collins, who bowed so low that his hand brushed the tops of his shoes. “Mr. Collins, your reputation has preceded you. Lady Catherine de Bourgh has remarked on how diligently you tend to your flock. I know that same sense of obligation will have you spending all of your time talking with your guests, so I shall not detain you a moment longer. But, first, please allow me to