Page 93 of The Crown’s Gift

"Then we shall protect the furniture together."

* * *

The Hursts and Caroline came down from London the previous afternoon and took rooms at Longbourn. Their carriage, luggage, and Mr Hurst's insistence upon a particular port made their arrival impossible to overlook.

Jane married Charles Bingley on a bright October morning beneath a sky so blue Lady Bennet claimed to have ordered it.

Longbourn woke before dawn. Though the ceremony would be at the Meryton church, Jane insisted upon dressing in her childhood bedroom. She wanted to descend the familiar staircase one last time as Miss Bennet.

Elizabeth fastened the row of small pearls at Jane's throat. Mary arranged the veil. Kitty held pins between her lips until Miss Harwood objected. Lydia moved from window to door and back again, reporting every carriage.

"Mr Bingley has arrived. He nearly fell on the church steps."

"He did not," Kitty said.

"He stumbled inwardly."

Jane sat before the mirror, serene only at first glance. Her fingers gripped the edge of the dressing table.

Elizabeth knelt beside her. "Are you frightened?"

"Yes. Not of Charles. Of the size of forever."

"You need not live it this morning. Only the first day."

Jane looked at her reflection. "When did you become wise?"

"I am repeating Papa."

Mary adjusted one fold of the veil. "And tomorrow you live the second day."

"There," Lydia said. "Forever is already nearly finished."

Their laughter eased the room.

Lady Bennet entered in lavender satin and stopped. For all her speeches about rich husbands, fine houses, and daughters well married, she had not prepared for the sight of Jane in white.

"Oh," she said.

Jane rose. "Mama?"

Lady Bennet crossed the room and cupped her eldest daughter's face. "You were such a beautiful baby. Everyone said so, even Mrs Long, whose own niece was born the same week. I thought if I could secure you every happiness, nothing could touch you."

Jane's eyes filled. "You gave me happiness before I knew to ask."

Lady Bennet embraced her carefully to preserve the veil and unsuccessfully to preserve her composure.

Sir Thomas waited at the foot of the stairs.

Jane descended on his arm. At the final step, he looked at her and seemed to see every age at once.

"I was not ready when you were born," he said quietly. "You deserved a father from the beginning."

"I had you when I needed you."

"That is generous."

"It is true."