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“Good morning! We are dressed nearly the same,” the eager lad exclaimed excitedly.
“Indeed,” Darcy replied and then walked over to Ben and knelt to his eye level. He dismissed Ben’s attendant with a nod, signalling his intention to take over from there. Darcy began arranging Ben’s cravat. “I am informed you are not too keen on the idea of dressing this way, young man.”
“No, not at all, I do not know why I must wear such finery, and why on earth must someone help me to dress?”
“It is expected for young masters to be attended in this manner. One day, you shall have your own valet.”
“My own valet,” Ben uttered in wonderment. “What is a valet?”
“A valet is a man who is hired to perform personal services for a gentleman, such as assisting with one’s morning and evening dressing and what not. You know my man, Waters. He is a good man, is he not? When you are older, you shall require your own man.”
“I can hardly imagine needing someone else to help me dress every morning, much less help me undress each night. That is what my mama does!”
Darcy could not help chuckling at Ben’s pronouncement. “Surely, you will reconsider that notion in time.” As Darcy continued to fuss with Ben’s cravat, he said, “In time, you shall appreciate having someone to tend to such matters as this.”
“Indeed,” Ben said teasingly in response to Darcy’s second attempt to get it just right. “Your hands are unsteady, my King. Why is that?”
Darcy thought about it. Had his man, Waters, not expressed words of a similar vein earlier as he attempted to complete his morning toilette? Darcy considered it was not so much anxiety over the day’s impending events, as it was anticipation of how his night would unfold. He had not bothered to mention it to his valet, who had been with him most of his life. He surely would not confess it now.
With the task at hand completed, at last, Darcy helped Ben don his jacket. “It is an important day for me, Ben. It is the most important day of my life, in fact. I am allowed to be just a bit anxious, am I not?”
Ben placed his hand reassuringly on Darcy’s broad shoulder and looked at him straight in the eye. “Then you should stay close to me, for I am not anxious at all.”
Darcy smiled. “I knew you would not be nervous, which is precisely why I am here. That and the fact that I wanted to spend time with you before the ceremony, solely the two of us.”
Darcy sat on the bed and entreated Ben to sit beside him. He continued, “Things will be quite overwhelming today, from the moment your mother and I take our wedding vows. I do not want you to feel left out or to consider you are less important to either of us.
“I realise how you felt neglected over the past weeks, what with my cousin Anne taking away so much of my time and attention. I never want you to feel that way again.”
“My mama always says family comes first,” Ben declared professorially.
“You are my family, you and your mother,” Darcy spoke proudly. “What say you we head on over to the chapel straightaway and make it official?”
The pristine chapel settled amongst its lush green surrounds and the clear blue of the sky above, decorated with fluffy white clouds, allied to supply the perfect setting for the long-awaited matrimony of the master of Pemberley.
On reflection, all those in attendance would admit to an impeccable execution of the ceremony with nary a tense moment save when the vicar spoke those fateful words of The Book of Common Prayer: “If any man can show just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together—”
Georgiana glanced about as if expecting the doors to fling open, in hobbling her cousin Anne, whilst both Richard and his mother cast a wary eye towards Lord Matlock.
The vicar continued in a measured yet reverent drawl, “Speak now or forever hold your peace.”
Nary a sound was heard. The ceremony proceeded to its crowning moment, to young Ben’s way of thinking.
The vicar asked, “Who giveth this Woman to be married to this Man?”
Young Ben offered over his mother’s hand to his best friend—the only father he would ever know—as he loudly proclaimed, “I do.”
Minutes later, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy emerged from the chapel to a throng of well-wishers and a sense of merriment, joy, and celebration that lasted for hours, long after the Darcys took their leave of Pemberley.
Once they were well beyond the sight of Pemberley, Darcy attempted to distract Elizabeth, whose countenance bore a mixture of delightful anticipation with subtle traces of forlornness.
“I know you will miss Ben terribly, my love. I shall miss him, as well,” Darcy said as he gently laid his hand atop hers and caressed it. “Even if it is not with the same depth of your emotions, I have some sense of what you are suffering.”
Elizabeth smiled faintly, almost apologetically.
Darcy continued, “We need this time together. Should Richard or Georgiana report the slightest bit of malaise on Ben’s part, I shall invite them to join us at the Lakes, if that is your desire.”
“No, I would not expect such a change in plans,” Elizabeth responded. “I shall be fine, and so will Ben. You are correct, Mr. Darcy. We need this time.”
