Beechwood Park, Hertfordshire, (1818), John Preston Neale [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.
~*~*~
Lorcan rubbed the back of his neck while he studied Netherfield. He had no great desire to go there, but he also did not wish to walk to Meryton or remain on the road. “And what if no one is in residence?”
“There will be staff, sir. They will be able to help you find accommodations. Send a footman to Meryton if there is an issue, and I will hire a carriage to collect you.”
“Very well,” Lorcan agreed. There really was not much else to do.
At the Window, Hans Heyerdahl [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons
I think this picture captures Kitty's current pensive (and sorrowful) air as she sits in her window seat in her bedroom at Longbourn. So many thoughts and feelings being secreted away!
~*~*~
She pulled her feet up and wrapped her arms around her knees as she rested her head against the wall and closed her eyes. Sorrow wished to spill out of her, but she would not let it – at least, she would not until she climbed into bed. Then, knowing that no one would hear or see her, she would allow her heart to feel the cracks which scarred it. For now, she would strive to think of nothing – not of how all her sisters were married or soon would be, not of the soirees and possible matches which had been missed because she had been required to leave town before the end of the season, not of the dear friend she had left behind at Darcy House, and most especially, not of Mr. Langley. One tear sneaked out the corner of her eye, forcing her to brush it away.
Un Adieu Poignant, Frederik Hendrik Kaemmerer [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.
Tomorrow's story begins with a parting so I thought this painting would be a good one to pair with the short prologue to this yet unnamed story.
~*~*~
“Are you certain this is what you want?”
Langley turned away from Lady Matlock to find Mr. Bennet observing him with great interest and a hint of compassion. He allowed himself to glance at Kitty…
He nodded as he turned back to her father. “It is.” This lie did not fall more easily from his lips than any of the others had so far today.
Signing the Register, Edmund Leighton [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons
Mary doesn't do things flippantly. She considers consequences and motivations. She ponders things deeply, filtering them through her beliefs. And that is not going to change on her wedding day. Putting her name in that church register and saying her vows will all be done with the respect she feels is their due.
~*~*~
“I, Mary Amelia Bennet,” she repeated, “take thee, Reginald Arthur Fitzwilliam to my wedded husband.” Mary glanced at the minister who prompted her with the next words. Her hand was trembling slightly in his. Wes squeezed her hand and was rewarded with a smile before she said the next words.
“To have and to hold, from this day forward.” She paused to take a breath. “For better or worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health.”
She once again paused to breath. She was nervous, but it was not because she was marrying him. Nor was it the size of the church and the crowd within it which had her trembling. She had confessed her trepidation over the service to him just yesterday, and he knew that she was not only repeating words and pledging herself to him, but she was also speaking to God.
[from Persuading Miss Mary, Marrying Elizabeth book 4]
