not face the thought of a family breakfast with their mother fussing and Mary moralising.
‘I am not hungry,’ said Elizabeth.
‘Nor I,’ said Jane.
Their mother protested, but they would not be persuaded, and at last Mrs Bennet went downstairs, calling, ‘Kitty! Kitty, my love! I want to speak to you…’
Elizabeth and Jane breathed a sigh of relief when they were left alone again.
‘We should eat something, though, even if we don’t really want it,’ said Jane.
‘I couldn’t eat a thing,’ said Lizzy. ‘I’m too excited.’
‘You should try,’ said Jane, standing up and looking at her sister with affection. ‘It will be a long morning and you don’t want to faint in the church.’
‘All right,’ said Lizzy, ‘for you, I’ll eat something, but only if we don’t have to go downstairs.’
Jane swirled her own wrapper from the peg and let it fall round her shoulders, then she drifted out of the room.
Elizabeth leaned back against the window and her eyes looked towards Netherfield. She imagined Darcy rising, too, and preparing himself for the wedding.
Her thoughts were recalled by Jane, who returned with a tray of delicacies, and together the two of them managed to make a passable breakfast. They broke off small pieces of hot rolls and ate them slowly in between sipping hot chocolate.
‘What do you think it will be like?’ asked Elizabeth.
‘I don’t know,’ said Jane. ‘Different.’
‘You will still be here, at Netherfield,’ said Elizabeth, ‘but I will be living in Derbyshire.’
‘With Mr Darcy,’ said Jane.
‘Yes, with my beloved Darcy,’ she said with a long smile.
She thought of herself and Darcy at Pemberley, wandering through the lush grounds and living their lives in the luxurious rooms, and she was lost in happy daydreams until her mother came in again, saying that it was time to dress.
The two young women rose from the window seat and went over to the washstand, where they stepped out of their nightgowns and washed in the scented water before slipping into their chemises. They sat patiently whilst Hill arranged their hair, threading seed pearls through their soft chignons, and then they put on their corsets, tying each other’s stays and laughing all the while.
They became quieter when it was time to put on their wedding dresses. They had wanted their dresses to be similar but not the same. Both gowns were made of white silk, but Jane’s dress had a round neck decorated with ribbon whilst Lizzy’s dress had a square neck trimmed with lace. Elizabeth helped Jane to begin with, lifting the gown over her sister’s head. It fell to the floor with a whisper of silk and Elizabeth fastened it, then stood and looked at Jane in the mirror. She kissed her on the cheek and said, ‘Bingley is a lucky man.’
Then Elizabeth raised her arms so that her sister could slip her dress over her head. It fell lightly around Elizabeth’s form, dropping to the floor with a satisfying rustle.
Elizabeth looked at herself in the mirror and thought that she looked somehow different. Elizabeth Bennet had almost gone, but Elizabeth Darcy had not yet appeared. For the moment she was caught between the two worlds, neither one thing nor another. She would be sorry to let the former depart and yet she was longing for the latter to arrive: a new name and with it a new world and a new life.
The two young women looked at each other and then hugged and laughed. They put on their veiled bonnets, pulled on their long white gloves, and picked up their bouquets, releasing the scent of roses into the air. Then, hand in hand, they went downstairs.
‘So here we are, two brides,’ said Elizabeth as they reached the bottom of the stairs, and suddenly, she shivered.
‘What is it?’ asked Jane.
Elizabeth’s voice was queer.
‘I don’t know. I just had a strange feeling, almost a sense of foreboding.’
‘Hah! That is nothing but wedding nerves,’ said her father’s warm voice behind her, and turning round, she saw him looking at her kindly. ‘Everyone has them on their wedding day.’ He became suddenly serious. ‘Unless you have changed your mind, Lizzy? If so, it is better to say so now. You have only to say the word, you know that. It is still not too late.’
Elizabeth thought of her beloved Darcy and the way he looked at her as though she was the only woman in the world, and said, ‘No, of course not, Papa. It is as you say, just wedding nerves.’