Chapter 158
“Why aren’t they here?” William’s gaze swept the church for what felt like the hundredth time. It wasn’t like Elizabeth to be late for something this important.
Richard rolled his eyes. “It’s only a few minutes after six. Stop pacing like a caged lion; they’ll be here.” He grinned at Charles. “Were you this nervous at your wedding rehearsal? I mean, the one that didn’t result in a wedding.”
“Actually, I was,” Charles replied, chuckling. “And Will was remarkably patient with me. Now I know how he felt.”
“What if something happened to them?” William asked. “The roads aren’t the best around here, and you’ve seen how crazy some of the drivers are.”
“Especially the reggae buses1,” Richard replied. “But it’s too soon to start imagining disaster scenarios.”
William dragged a hand through his hair and immediately realized his mistake. Mrs. Shepherd had insisted on helping him tame his hair, even—to his dismay—using hair spray. She insisted that it had been just a light spritz, but his hair felt unusually stiff, and his hand felt vaguely sticky now. He jammed the hand into his pocket, and caught himself fidgeting with his car keys.
Why am I nervous, or discontented, or whatever I’m feeling? He didn’t know. Paradoxically, perhaps it was because everything was going so smoothly—too smoothly. All the guests had arrived except Mary Bennet, whose flight would land in a few hours. Everyone seemed happy with their accommodations, even Gran. Something was bound to go wrong.
“I’m going outside to wait,” he called back to the others. He strode toward the door, nearly colliding with Elizabeth as she rushed into the church.
“We’re here! Finally!” she gasped. She stopped directly in front of him, biting her lip. “I’m so sorry; we had trouble wrangling my hair, but we should have started sooner.”
His spirits lifted at once, and he drew her into his arms. “It was worth the wait; you look beautiful.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Mr. Punctuality doesn’t mind that I’m late?”
He leaned down to kiss her softly. “I’m so glad to see you that nothing else matters.”
He took her hand and led her down the aisle to the center of the church, where Richard and Charles stood together. She greeted them, remarking, “I should have taken that bet, Charles, about the three of you showing up at our house before lunchtime today.”
“I know! Somehow, we managed to amuse ourselves. We had lunch at a bar in Bathsheba, and then Richard and I surfed for most of the afternoon. There was a storm offshore that made some decent waves.”
Jane and Charlotte joined the group, and Jane and Richard exchanged a fond embrace. It amused William that Richard showed a degree of unabashed warmth for Jane that he never bestowed on anyone else.
“I didn’t know you could surf, Richard,” Elizabeth said, picking up the conversational thread.
“I haven’t done it in years, and it really showed. But even on a good day, I can’t hold a candle to Chuckles.”
Charles shook his head. “Don’t listen to him; he did great. And I sure wasn’t in top form today.”
“What did you do while they were hanging ten?” Elizabeth asked William.
“I went for a long run, and then just relaxed on the beach. How did you spend your day?”
“We got manicures and pedicures, and then we did the same as you—spent the afternoon at the beach. I was in the water for so long, I’m surprised I didn’t turn into a giant prune.”
“Nice job choosing our beach house, William,” Charlotte said. “I hope it’s a long-term rental, because I’m planning to stay for at least a month.”
“I’m glad you like it.” William felt absurdly pleased with himself. He had attended a party at the house once, when New York acquaintances had rented it for a week, and had remembered it in case someone asked for a recommendation in the future.
“So, Mom and Dad aren’t here yet?” Elizabeth asked, glancing around. “And they’re supposed to bring Georgie.”
Georgiana had arrived from New York earlier that afternoon. Instead of staying at Sandy Lane with Rose or the Fitzwilliams, she had accepted the Gardiners’ invitation to join them at the “Bennet mansion,” as Elizabeth called the villa William had rented for her family. Elizabeth had also offered Georgiana the option of staying at the bridesmaids’ beach house, but she had understood the girl’s preference for the Gardiners’ offer. Their three daughters were attending the wedding; along with Kitty Bennet, they would provide Georgiana with companions close to her age.
The rector approached William, who introduced Elizabeth and then said, “I apologize, but we’re still waiting for one of the bridesmaids and the father of the bride.”
“It’s all right; we still have enough time. Let me know when they’re here.” The rector turned and made his way to the front of the church.
Almost immediately, the church’s heavy wooden doors flew open. A shrill voice echoed through the building: “Lizzy! Lizzy! We’re here!”
Mrs. Bennet hustled down the aisle. She reached William first, and threw her arms around him. “Oh, William, what an absolute delight to see you!”
He gently extricated himself from her grasp. “Welcome to Barbados, Mrs. Bennet. It’s good to see you. I hope you’re enjoying your stay.”
“Well, I’m not too fond of Barbados, but we couldn’t possibly be more excited about this wedding! Just think, Lizzy marrying such an important man from such a prominent family! She is the luckiest girl in the world, and we are just so thrilled.”
William was saved from a reply by Elizabeth’s approach. “Hi, Mom.”
Mrs. Bennet gave her daughter a smile that almost immediately faded into a frown. “You look nice, Lizzy, but isn’t that the dress you wore to Jane’s rehearsal last year?”
Of course! The dress had looked familiar, but William hadn’t been able to place it. Now, memories flooded in: seeing her, but not recognizing her at first, outside the church; hearing her rehearse “Ave Maria,” accompanied by that oaf, Collins; flirting with her while she piloted his rental BMW Z3 to the rehearsal dinner; her mocking performance of “By Strauss,” again with Collins at the piano; and above all, their sweet conversation on the terrace, followed by their first dance.
“Yes, Mom, it’s the same dress. Why? Are you superstitious?” He saw Elizabeth glance at Charlotte, her eyebrows raised.
“Didn’t you tell me you got it at a clearance sale?” Mrs. Bennet clicked her tongue and shook her head. “That isn’t the sort of thing the fiancée of a man like William Darcy should be wearing. I thought you had better sense than that.”
William mentally counted to ten in Italian. It didn’t help with his sudden burst of anger, but he did his best to speak in a measured tone. “I disagree, Mrs. Bennet. I think Lizzy looks beautiful. Besides, she was wearing that dress the first time I danced with her. It’s one of my favorite memories.”
“It’s a really pretty dress,” Georgiana said, speaking from just behind Mrs. Bennet. William and Elizabeth both embraced her and then greeted Mr. Bennet, who stood beside Georgiana.
“Now that we’re all here,” William said, “let’s go up front and join the rector.” He reached for Elizabeth’s hand. She smiled up at him, but the sparkle in her eyes had dimmed. It was essential to treat her family with respect, but how was he supposed to respect someone who constantly belittled the woman he loved?
With all the players on hand, the rehearsal proceeded smoothly, and soon they were done and heading out into the parking lot. Winston and the Bennets’ driver sprang to attention, opening doors to their respective vehicles. Elizabeth was about to follow Charlotte and Jane to Winston’s limo when William caught her hand.
“I drove the Porsche here,” he said, “because I wanted us to have some time alone together. I’ll drive you to the restaurant.”
She squeezed his hand. “Good idea.”
After the other cars departed, William led her in the direction of the churchyard. “I need to show you something first. Remember, I promised to tell you why I wanted to be married at this church.”
“Well, you said some of your ancestors used to worship here. That explained it.”
“It’s more than that.” He led her into the cemetery, between the rows of tombstones, and stopped in front of one. “Meet my great-great-great-great-grandfather.”
She let out a little gasp as she read the tombstone, its marble surface weathered but still readable: Fitzwilliam Darcy. Born 1816, Derbyshire, England; Died 1877. She turned to him and simply said, “Wow.”
He nodded. “The first Darcy to arrive in the Western Hemisphere. There are other Darcys buried here too, but I don’t want to turn this into a macabre evening; we can see the other graves some other time. This is the most important one. Also, on Saturday when we sign the parish register, I’ve asked the rector to bookmark an entry from the early 1840s, when Fitzwilliam was married here and signed the same book.”
Her eyes shone as she smiled up at him. “I understand. By us getting married here, the family has come full circle, in a way. And it’s also a sign of continuity into the future.”
“Exactly.”
Hands clasped, they headed for his car. He had something else important to say before they joined their guests. “Lizzy,” he began, “about what your mother said ….”
“She was right,” Elizabeth replied, her gaze fixed on the pavement. “Char mentioned it, too, expecting me to wear something more appropriate to … my new station in life, you might say; I suppose that’s how Mom would word it. I’m so sorry; I should have realized.”
William stopped walking and turned to face her, his hands on her shoulders. “Listen to me,” he said. He stopped and took a slow breath; his voice had sounded gruff to his ears. He continued in a gentler tone. “Lizzy, I am so happy to be marrying you that I don’t even have the words, and I’m very proud that you chose me. And if you had walked in here wearing one of your ink-stained nightshirts and a pair of old sweatpants, I would still feel that way.”
She met his searching gaze, and a smile gradually spread across her face. “One of my nightshirts? Really?”
He chuckled. “Okay, I admit, I’m glad you didn’t do that. But, cara, we belong together, and we both know it. Don’t let your mother get into your head and make you start doubting yourself.”
“You’re right. Thank you.” Elizabeth threw her arms around him, burying her face against his neck. “I love you so much,” she whispered.
“It’s entirely mutual,” he replied. “And, by the way, what I told your mother is the truth. I think you look beautiful, I like that dress, and I’m enjoying some of the memories from the last time you wore it.”
“Like when we danced together.”
“Yes.” He closed his eyes and held her, stroking her hair.
“And almost kissed.”
“Mmm.” He could visualize the scene: the dark terrace, the music floating out from the banquet room, the feel of her soft body in his arms ….
“And then Caroline showed up and started shrieking.”
She lifted her head, and he was relieved to see the sparkle back in her eyes. They laughed together, and she stretched upward to kiss him. “Oh, there’s your rebellious lock of hair again,” she said. “I’ll fix it.” She reached up to brush it aside, but the instant she touched it, she stopped, frowning. “Are you wearing hair spray?”
“It wasn’t my idea,” he grumbled. “Mrs. Shepherd ambushed me.”
“Oh, poor baby.” Her voice oozed with feigned sympathy. “You were just her helpless victim; is that it?”
“That’s the kind of respect you show your future husband?” he retorted, doing his best to glower, though it was difficult when he couldn’t stop smiling.
“Yup. Get used to it.”
He stared into her dancing eyes and was overwhelmed by his love for her. He lowered his head, claiming her lips in a kiss whose passion clearly surprised her, but she responded in kind, clinging to him.
Then, suddenly, she pulled away, gasping. “We have to get going!”
“We will,” he murmured, gazing at her through half-lidded eyes, “but I don’t think it matters if we’re a few minutes behind the others.”
“Oh? You don’t think it’s important to be there when your grandmother and my mother meet?”
His eye flew open. He released her at once and fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. “Let’s go; I think I know a shortcut.”
William managed to pull into the restaurant parking lot, tires skidding on gravel, just as the Bennets’ van arrived. He saw Rose standing on the steps outside the entrance. Of course; she was acting as the hostess for this gathering of their wedding guests, welcoming each new arrival. She nodded at William as he strode toward her. “I wondered where you were.”
“We were the last to leave the church; I wanted to make sure everyone else had a ride.” His excuse had the advantage of truth, even if it wasn’t the whole truth. He glanced toward the Bennets’ van in time to see them emerge from the vehicle. Georgiana, who had jumped from the van first, whizzed past him, saying, “I’ll see you inside. Tessa Gardiner said she’d save me a seat at her table.”
“Is everyone else here?” William asked Rose.
“Yes; they’re all seated and have ordered drinks.”
“In that case, let me introduce you to Elizabeth’s parents.”
The Bennets approached, led by Elizabeth. William opened his mouth to make the introductions, but before he could say a word, Mrs. Bennet cried, “Oh, my goodness, you must be Mrs. Darcy! It is such a pleasure!”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” Rose said, nodding.
“As I was saying to William at the church, we are just thrilled that someone like William would want to marry Lizzy. Who would have thought that my ugly duckling, with her wild hair and her jeans and dirty tee shirts, would grow up to marry a world-renowned musician from such a prominent family!”
Rose glanced at William for a moment, her expression noncommittal aside from an almost imperceptible frown. He shook his head, his lips set in an angry line. “We consider ourselves fortunate that Elizabeth is joining the family,” she said in a neutral tone. “She’s done a great deal to support us, and she makes William very happy.”
“We were so looking forward to meeting you in New York,” Mrs. Bennet said in a fretful tone. “Your idea for a lovely little get-acquainted tea was so charming. But then of course everything got moved here. I don’t know why anyone would think this was better than the big, beautiful New York wedding you worked so hard to plan.”
Rose frowned. “Mrs. Bennet, it’s only the ceremony that was moved down here. We can still have our tea next month when you come to New York. The reception there is taking place as originally planned.”
Mrs. Bennet waved her hands in the air. “Well, of course, I know that. But the lovely wedding ceremony! Lizzy showed me pictures of the church and all the beautiful flowers you were going to have. And her designer gown, that she won’t get to wear in her wedding photos!”
Elizabeth stepped forward and spoke in a low voice. “Mom, I’m wearing the dress on Saturday.”
“Well, at least that’s something,” Mrs. Bennet retorted in an acerbic tone. “You’ve changed everything else.” She turned to Rose with an ingratiating smile. “I apologize, Mrs. Darcy, for all the trouble my daughter has caused you, having to change the arrangements just because of one of her silly whims. She can be so headstrong and foolish sometimes.”
“Francie!” Mr. Bennet glared at his wife. “That’s enough.”
William noted Elizabeth’s crestfallen expression and reached for her hand. He drew her closer while silently counting to ten in Italian; in the course of little more than an hour, Mrs. Bennet had already incited him to anger twice. This time, it was impossible to ignore her insults.
But before he could calm himself enough to speak, Rose lifted her chin and spoke in a cool tone. “Mrs. Bennet, apparently there’s been a misunderstanding. We moved the wedding here at my grandson’s request. He had grown uneasy with the size of the guest list and asked for a smaller ceremony. Elizabeth suggested holding it here, in a place he associates with his mother; they spent many happy vacations here before she died. It was a sensitive and thoughtful suggestion, and I fully supported the change and still do. In addition, she did a marvelous job of revising the plans in a short time, in order to accommodate William’s busy travel schedule.”
Mrs. Bennet licked her lips. “Oh.”
“However, I apologize for the inconvenience to you; we should perhaps have given that more consideration.”
“It’s a beautiful place,” Mr. Bennet said, clearly grateful that his wife had been at least temporarily silenced. “The bit of extra travel time—I’d say it was worth it already, and we’ve only been here for a day. The rest of us are having a wonderful time.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Rose said, “and it’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.” They shook hands, and then she turned back to Mrs. Bennet. “Furthermore, I want to assure you of our affection and regard for Elizabeth. She won’t officially be a Darcy until Saturday, but we already consider her a member of the family. Thank you for raising such a fine young woman.”
“Well, yes,” Mrs. Bennet replied, finding her voice again. “All of my girls are wonderful. Jane, of course—well, you’ve met her. And I’m so sorry my dear Lydia couldn’t be here, but you know, she has an important role in a major Hollywood film, and she—”
“And in our family,” Rose continued, “we protect each other from those who try to harm us in any way, no matter who they are.”
William doubted that Mrs. Bennet recognized Rose’s veiled threat, underlined by additional emphasis on her last five words. And she couldn’t have known that Rose’s choice to interrupt her was nearly unprecedented. But a quick glance at his future father-in-law, his eyebrows raised and nodding, showed that he understood and approved. “That’s wonderful to hear,” Mr. Bennet remarked. “We’re very proud of our Lizzy.”
Elizabeth released William’s hand and stepped over to her father, kissing his cheek. “Thank you, Dad.” She turned to her mother. “Let’s go inside; everybody else is in there already.”
The Bennets followed her inside, leaving William and Rose alone on the steps. “I’m sorry about Mrs. Bennet, Gran; that’s just how she is.”
“I knew something was wrong. Elizabeth never seemed enthusiastic about involving her mother in the wedding plans.”
“Thank you so much for what you said.”
Rose shrugged. “There’s no need to thank me. I simply told the truth.”
He grinned and offered her his arm. “I’m glad you’re on my side, Gran. I’d hate to face you on a battlefield.”
“You are very wise.”
His grin widened as he escorted his grandmother into the restaurant.
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1 “Reggae bus” is a term used elsewhere in the Caribbean, particularly in Jamaica, but is also sometimes applied to privately operated yellow minibuses on Barbados. Many of the drivers play reggae music—sometimes at deafening volumes—and some have a reputation for driving very fast. (Both were certainly true for the reggae buses I experienced, both as a passenger and while sharing the road with them.) In theory, they’re supposed to follow the same routes and stop at the same bus stops used by the government buses, but in practice they will pick up and drop off people just about anywhere. My understanding is that Bajans call them “minivans,” not “reggae buses.”