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Part Four: March

Chapter Sixty-One

Elisabeth Bennet had never really considered herself a violent person, but she was ready to kill her mother.

Despite Elisabeth's vows that her mother wasn't going to be taking over the wedding, Ruth had been determined to do just that. At first, it hadn't been so bad. Ruth had booked the reception hall and wrote up the complete guest list, which had somehow managed to balloon into nearly two hundred people.

"Two hundred?" Elisabeth had exclaimed the first time she'd heard the total. "I don't know two hundred people well enough to invite them to my wedding, do I?"

"Well, Ellie, people know about the wedding and they're expecting me to send invitations," Ruth had replied before changing the subject.

Elisabeth had wanted to ask how all of these people had heard about the wedding considering that she had no idea who they were, but decided to drop it. She later told Darcy, "I figured, what the hell. I'm only getting married once, and it'll be fun. I'm sure Ma's been telling these people for years that she didn't think I'd ever get married."

With the reception hall booked and the number of guests settled, Elisabeth had felt confident she would be able to go from there without her mother's interference. She thought wrong. It started with the invitations. Elisabeth and Darcy had talked about how they wanted the invitations worded. Although both wanted to include a mention of their parents somewhere, they weren't quite sure how to do it without being morbid. In the end, Elisabeth went online and looked up etiquette tips, all of which told her that mentioning deceased parents wouldn't be appropriate, so they had to start over.

Darcy thought it would've been cute to mention Grace somewhere. He'd come up with "Charlotte Grace Williamson cordially invites you to the wedding of her parents." They'd had a good laugh on it and moved on. Finally, they decided that the simple approach was the best one to take with the invitations.

Almost as if she knew Elisabeth had decided on something, Ruth arrived on her doorstep the next morning with her ideas for the invitations. She was aghast at the one Elisabeth and Darcy had decided upon.

"Cordially? What kind of word is cordially? It's not a word that belongs on a wedding invitation, that's for sure!"

"We liked the word. It's not too stuffy or old-fashioned and it doesn't make it sound like we're commanding people to attend the wedding," Elisabeth said hotly. It had taken them almost an hour before they'd finally decided on what to say!

"Why didn't you include my name, or your father's, in that...that invitation draft of yours?" Ruth demanded.

"Because it goes against etiquette to mention parents who have died in the wedding invitations, that's why. And since that eliminates three of our four parents, we decided to write it like that."

"I was referring to Mel. You remember him, the man who's going to be paying for this wedding?"

Elisabeth was silent, because she had forgotten all about Mel and now felt a little bad about it. If there was one thing she was glad had happened in the past year, it was that she'd finally been able to set aside her prejudices about her stepfather. If he would never occupy the space in her heart that her father had, he was, at least, a good listener and a friend.

"I'll talk to Darcy," she said. "I'm sure he won't have a problem if we mention you and Mel on the invitations."

Ruth pulled a folded sheet of paper from her purse. "I thought ahead," she announced with a beaming smile. "I thought you might try to get out of including us in the invitations."

"Ma, it wasn't deliberate. I just didn't feel it would be fair to mention my family when Darcy couldn't mention his because they're dead," Elisabeth said, taking the paper from her mother and opening it.

Elisabeth nodded slowly as she read through it. "Darcy's middle name is Ambrose. And I still don't like 'respectfully request the honour of your presence,'" she mumbled. "Couldn't we compromise on a different word? I'm not into respectful when it comes to asking people to come to my wedding, because I'm inviting a few people I don't respect but have no choice in inviting."

"What word would you suggest, and don't give me 'cordially.'"

"How about 'joyfully'? It would certainly fit the occasion."

Ruth thought on that. "I think that would be all right," she finally said.

Elisabeth had one more small change she wanted to make, but she wasn't about to bring it up with her mother. She'd just sneak the change in without telling her. "Good. Then I'll run this over to the stationery place here in town and have them get started." She started to fold the paper back again to stick in her jeans pocket, but Ruth abruptly snatched it from her hands.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Ellie. I can handle that," Ruth said.

"It's not necessary. I'm going to have plenty of time for the next month to get everything planned since I'm still on my maternity leave. I can run by there today on my way back from Grace's appointment with the pediatrician."

"There are other things you can do, like choose your wedding dress and gifts for your attendants. I can handle..."

"No!" Elisabeth exclaimed. "This is my wedding. I'm going to be involved in the planning of it. Every single detail." Elisabeth took the paper back from her mother. She came close to saying something that would cause a fight, but reined in her temper and said, "I'm not saying I don't want you involved at all. I do. You're my mother and I love you."

Ruth seemed taken aback by that. "Well, I love you too, Ellie."

"I'm glad. I welcome any advice or help that you want to give, but when it comes right down to it, this is my wedding and...and...I have plans for it." That didn't sound quite as good or as convincing as she'd hoped.

"Well, of course you do." Ruth smiled. "I want you to have everything you want at this wedding, within reason."

"Good. Then I'll take this," Elisabeth took the paper back from her mother, "and get started on the invitations."

"But then...what am I going to do?" Ruth asked. "I know! I can find you a band."

"Uh, well, we were thinking of going with a D.J. instead of a band. See, Sean's got a friend who's just getting started in the business and he's willing to give us a bit of a break on the cost, plus he's got one of the most extensive collections of music there is, according to Sean, which will be great."

"A D.J. is so impersonal, Elisabeth. There's really nothing like a live band playing when you and your new husband take the floor first dance. I'll start looking."

"But, Ma...." But it was too late. Ruth was halfway out the door and not listening, having given herself a new quest now that the reception hall was booked and her wedding invitation had carried the day.

It only got worse from there. Ruth thought that Darcy should be barred from any decision about the wedding. As she said, "He's the groom. All that matters is that he shows up on the right date at the right time in a tuxedo. Other than that, why should he be involved? It's the bride and her family's day, not the groom's."

"It's his damn wedding day, too," Elisabeth had snapped. "It's the bride and groom's day. I can't get married without him, so he should have a say in what goes on."

"So you want him dictating what dress you're going to wear? What your bridesmaids will wear?"

"No, but he would like to have a vote in what we serve at the reception and what goes on during the ceremony."

Ruth hadn't said anything further, which Elisabeth knew was her way of ignoring the issue. After that, Elisabeth pretended that any opinions of Darcy's were her own so that Ruth couldn't belittle or reject them, or bring up the sensitive subject of Darcy's participation in the wedding planning.

Unfortunately, before Elisabeth knew it, her mother had started to disregard Elisabeth's wishes and opinions as well. Elisabeth wanted her bridesmaids to wear emerald green, with Jenna in a gold dress she'd seen in one of those infernal bridal magazines her mother had foisted off on her back in December. The moment she'd seen the sleeveless dress with the square bodice and the full flared skirt, she'd known it would be perfect for Jenna. Jenna had agreed when Elisabeth had shown it to her, and Ruth had been in raptures over the dress.

The problem was, Ruth thought that a dress which looked perfect on Jenna would look just as great on the three bridesmaids. She also thought that emerald green wasn't a "suitable" color for a wedding attendant's dress.

"What's wrong with emerald green?" Elisabeth demanded to know.

"It's not romantic enough," Ruth said in a dismissive voice. "You should have something in pastels...like sky blue, or peach, lilac."

"I want emerald green. Charlie and Ginger like it, and besides, Lydia says she always feels like a schoolgirl when she wears pastels." Elisabeth knew mentioning that last one would get her mother's attention, and it did.

"She said that? But she...well, maybe I misunderstood her. But does it really have to be green?"

"Yes. Darcy says he likes green because it reminds him of my eyes, and you know it's my favorite color."

"Oh, very well, if you insist on having a wedding that looks like it's taking place on St. Patrick's Day, you can keep green as the color. But about the dresses..."

"Charlie refuses to wear anything strapless or sleeveless. She'd prefer long sleeves but she says she'll go with short if I insist. Here's what I thought we'd go with." Elisabeth had found a dress online that she thought was pretty, a short-sleeved satin dress with a rounded bodice and a flowing A-line skirt. She showed Ruth the picture she'd printed out.

"That is quite possibly the ugliest dress I've ever seen," Ruth said. "With a few exceptions being that monstrosity I had to wear as my sister Sarah's bridesmaid. You simply can't have that in your wedding." Ruth tore the picture in two.

"Ma!" Elisabeth shrieked as Ruth continued to destroy the picture.

"Now, I understand that Charlie has something of a...figure problem, not to mention that skin thing, so I took the liberty of looking up a few plus-size dresses of my own and I think she'd look lovely in them."

Every single one of Ruth's dress suggestions was strapless, sleeveless, or a halter. "She could wear a shawl around her arms if she's that self-conscious about them, but the point of the dress is to not point out her other flaws," Ruth said as Elisabeth listlessly went through her selections.

The next day, when Elisabeth told Charlie about what had happened and showed her the dress Ruth thought would be perfect, Charlie said calmly, "You tell your mother that I won't be in the wedding if I don't get to choose my own dress."

Upon hearing this, Ruth snapped, "Then you don't need her in the wedding if she won't wear the dress you picked out!"

"I didn't pick out that dress," Elisabeth replied, far calmer than she thought she would be. "You did."

Ruth refused to back down, and so did Charlie. In the end, Elisabeth convinced Charlie to stay on as a bridesmaid by telling her to choose her own dress, as long as it was emerald green, and that they would deal with Ruth on the day of the wedding.

"You mean that Ruth won't have a clue that I'm not wearing that monstrosity until I show up in my own gown?" Charlie laughed.

"Exactly."

"I'm back in, I guess. Anything that will tick your mother off is fine by me right now. But El, you need to put a leash on her. If you don't, you're going to wind up in your worst nightmare."

"I've tried!" Elisabeth cried. "But every time I talk to her about it, she just ignores me or says she understands and then does things her own way. How do you propose I stop her?"

"Call off the wedding."

"Har bloody har."

"It was the first thing that came to mind. More sensible suggestions will be forthcoming, like...killing her. Or, if you don't think that will work, then how about telling her that you'll take her name off the guest list if she doesn't leave you alone to plan the wedding? Or maybe just telling her to butt out or you'll never speak to her again."

"I've already tried that one. It didn't work. She just called me the next morning after I'd been up with Grace until four in the morning and said, 'Glad to hear that you're speaking to me again.' And then went on her merry way, as if I hadn't told her to stay out of things."

"Lovely."

The issue of the bridesmaids' dresses was resolved, more or less, after Elisabeth put in a phone call to an equally furious Ginger and gave her the same advice she'd given Charlie. She told Ruth that Charlie had reluctantly agreed to wear a strapless dress with a shawl, which her grandmother Sawyer would make for her.

But each step of the way was like that for Elisabeth. She either had to find a way to placate Ruth or to work around her, because Ruth was determined to have things her way. Ruth had remained adamant about having a band play at the wedding instead of Josh North, Sean's D.J. friend, and had even dragged Elisabeth along to hear a couple of bands play. To solve this problem, Elisabeth had Darcy sign a contract with Josh to agree to play at the wedding.

Ruth had been furious, but Elisabeth pointed out that it was too late to back out since the contract had been signed and the money was guaranteed to Josh whether he worked their wedding or not.

Then there was the catering debate. Elisabeth had wanted Niemerg's to do the catering, since that was where she and Darcy had gone on their first date. Ruth said she wouldn't pay for it if they went there, since she didn't like the food.

"Fine. Then we'll pay for it," Elisabeth said. "In fact, Darcy and I are beginning to think we should pay for everything. It would just make things simpler."

"Simpler? Why would things be simpler for the two of you to pay for everything? You kids should save your money. Your father and I have the money to pay for a nice wedding, with nice food. I've heard wonderful things about this Susan Watson who opened up her own catering business a few months ago. I was talking to a lady at church whose daughter got married recently and she said the woman is almost an artist when it comes to food."

"We don't have a connection to this woman. We have a connection to Niemerg's," Elisabeth said.

"That's silly. I didn't have the restaurant where I went on my first date cater either of my weddings, and I won't have Niemerg's catering yours."

After much arguing, Elisabeth gave up and agreed to have Susan Watson cater the wedding. She did, however, make her mother swear that she and Darcy would have final approval over the menu.

The battle continued throughout the other preparations. Elisabeth and Darcy had wanted a chocolate wedding cake, which Ruth immediately vetoed.

"Wedding cakes are never chocolate," she said with a firm shake of her mouth. "If Darcy wants chocolate cake, he can have a groom's cake."

"I wanted a chocolate cake," Elisabeth said through clenched teeth.

"You can have a piece of the groom's cake, too, then. But wedding cakes are supposed to be vanilla."

Not true, as it turned out when they went to a bakery to taste cakes. Elisabeth had smiled smugly when Ruth had been informed that there were a variety of flavors to choose from for the wedding cake. The satisfaction quickly faded when Ruth, enchanted by the idea of something new, told the baker that they would have an almond cake with apricot cream. Elisabeth had hated the sample she'd tasted but once again had been vetoed. Later that afternoon, Elisabeth had gone back while her mother was doing God only knew what and told the baker that she wanted spice cake with caramel instead.

"Not a problem, miss," the lady had said with a wink. "I've seen a million of them just like your mother. You're the first of her children getting married, aren't you?"

Elisabeth nodded. "And at the rate we're going, I'll probably be the last. Both of my sisters are horrified by this monster that was once our mother."

The baker laughed heartily. "Don't worry. You'll get through it, and in time, they'll forget about this and find the courage to get married themselves. Then you'll get to laugh as they go through what you've gone through."

But the straw that finally broke Elisabeth's temper was the wedding gown. To Elisabeth's frustration, Aunt Grace refused to let Elisabeth have Granny Bess's wedding dress in spite of much begging on Ruth's part. Even though it had been too big for any of the women in her family to wear, the woman insisted on holding on to it.

"I was the oldest daughter in the family, so I got the dress," Aunt Grace had told Elisabeth when she'd called to put in her share of begging. "And I intend to pass it to my great-granddaughter someday so she can have it."

Elisabeth refrained from commenting on the likelihood of a descendant of a skinny twig like Bethany ever being big enough to wear the dress and resigned herself to finding something else. So Elisabeth poured through the hated bridal magazines and looked up a few online places that sold wedding dresses and found a few things she liked, but nothing that made her think, This is the one.

Several weeks passed without Elisabeth finding the perfect dress, and as March approached, the fighting between her mother and herself seemed to be dying out. There had been relatively few skirmishes about the decorations, the wedding cake design, and, in the end, the food. Elisabeth had been forced to admit that Susan Watson was a genius with food, and her mother had held up her end of the deal by not arguing over the food choices. Elisabeth and Darcy had met Pastor Criswell and liked him, and he had no problem marrying them. The same day they'd met with the preacher, they'd registered for wedding gifts. Everything seemed to be falling into place.

And then came the first of March.

Ruth, frustrated by what she saw as Elisabeth's 'indecisiveness' about her wedding dress, had organized what she described as "an all-out manhunt for the dress." She invited Lydia and Jenna to join them in the hunt. Elisabeth resigned herself to this because she knew she'd put off finding the dress in the hopes of finding the "right" one.

The day started out innocently enough. Ruth drove the four of them to St. Louis since Elisabeth had already been to Mattoon, Decatur, and Terre Haute in her quest to find a wedding dress. She slept most of the way there because Grace had taken to waking up her parents at all hours of the night. Elisabeth was convinced that the baby did it just for kicks, because she slept most of the night on the rare occasions that someone else was taking care of her.

When they arrived in St. Louis, Elisabeth insisted on stopping at McDonald's for breakfast.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Ruth asked, giving her daughter an assessing look.

"Yes, it is. I'm starving."

"I'm sure you are, dear, but I thought you were dieting in order to look good in whatever dress you chose," Ruth said. "I remember before my wedding to your father, I barely ate anything for a month because I wanted to look fabulous in my dress."

"I've lost almost all the weight I put on with Grace," Elisabeth pointed out. "Besides, since I don't have a dress yet, dieting to fit into a dress is kind of a moot issue, isn't it?"

Ruth said nothing, but she did stop so that they could eat breakfast. Elisabeth was tempted to eat ten Egg McMuffins just to spite her mother, but she settled for a sausage biscuit and orange juice.

After breakfast, the foursome drove to the first of the bridal salons Ruth had looked up on the Internet. It happened to be a store which sold vintage bridal gowns.

"Why on earth would anyone think that was appealing?" Elisabeth asked as she took a look at a long-sleeved lacy Victorian gown. "All that lace must itch like crazy."

"I think it's kind of pretty," Ruth said. "I wore something like this at my wedding to your father."

"I know, Ma. I've seen the pictures." Elisabeth rolled her eyes at Jenna and Lydia when Ruth was out of sight looking at a stunning gown from the thirties that Elisabeth liked but knew would show every imperfection on her body.

"Good morning!" a petite woman with pale blonde hair greeted them. She smiled at Elisabeth. "Is there anything in particular we're looking for today?"

"Unfortunately, no," Elisabeth said. "I'm hoping to be inspired when I see the right dress."

"Well, we have plenty to choose from in all different styles and sizes. Let me know if you need any help. My name's Quinn."

"Thank you," Elisabeth said. "Wow. I think she's the first person who, when seeing us together, has not automatically assumed you're the bride."

"At this point, El, your appearance is giving you away," Lydia said as she glanced at a brightly flowered gown. "This is a wedding dress? Looks more like a dress I'd wear in a nightmare wedding."

"It's a Hawaiian wedding dress," Jenna explained.

"What the hell does that mean, my appearance is giving me away?" Elisabeth demanded.

Lydia wandered off without answering.

"What...I'm going to kill her someday. I swear to God, she's going to be dead. Do I look bad, Jenna?" Elisabeth asked, worried.

"Um..." Jenna hesitated. "You look tired."

"You'd look tired, too, if you were up most of the night with a fussy ten-week-old baby. Especially if you were planning your wedding on top of that. I don't know why I just didn't do the sensible thing and elope when I had the chance. I don't need all this wedding hype. It's making me regress back to my childhood."

"It's certainly been an enlightening experience for me," Jenna confessed. "If Chazz ever proposes to me, I'll know what to expect."

"You mean avoid," Elisabeth muttered.

"That too." Jenna smiled at her sister. "I'm glad things are working out better between you and Ma. I hate seeing you two fighting all the time."

"Well, if she would just realize that this is my wedding and not hers, we'd get along great. I've been reading up on the duties of the mother of the bride. She's supposed to support the bride, help pay for stuff, and let the bride do things her way. Where, in all this madness, have I been able to do things my way?"

"A case could be made that in fighting Ma over everything, you have been doing things your way. You two have never had an easy relationship."

Elisabeth snorted. "So we're back to that 'I don't think I understood you from the moment you were born' crap of hers."

Jenna put an arm around her sister's shoulders. "She was wrong to say that to you," Jenna said quietly. "Very wrong."

"She was just being honest, and she's right. She doesn't understand me and I don't understand her and I don't think we'll ever reach a point where we understand each other." Elisabeth blinked back tears. "And if you think it doesn't terrify me to consider a future where my relationship with Grace turns out exactly like my relationship with Ma, you're wrong."

"Elisabeth! Take a look at this perfect dress!" Ruth called. "I've checked, and it's your size!"

Elisabeth and Jenna looked at each other, perfect understanding between them. "It's only twenty-one more days until the wedding," Jenna said. "You'll make it. And don't worry about Grace. You're doing fine with her so far."

Elisabeth nodded and said, "Yeah, but she's only ten weeks old," as they walked over to their mother.

The moment Elisabeth saw the dress, she nearly groaned. It was another of Ruth's versions of the perfect dress----taken to a new level. It was truly a dress right out of Gone with the Wind with a hoop skirt, tightly fitted bodice, and tiny puffed sleeves. The skirt had dozens of little ribbons of lace with bows on the end.

"Ma, what about me screams 'hoop skirt' to you?" Elisabeth asked. "I'm not wearing something like that. For that matter, both times you got married, you didn't wear a dress like this."

"You used to like hoop skirts," Ruth said defensively. "You loved them when you were a little girl."

"I used to think Michael Jackson was pretty cool, too. Times and tastes change."

"All right, all right. But what do you think of the dress?"

"I think..." ...a lobotomy will be required to get me into that dress. "I think we should keep looking." Out of the corner of her eye, Elisabeth saw Lydia gesturing wildly. She was about to say something to Ruth when Lydia shook her head frantically. Ruth wandered off the opposite direction, leaving Elisabeth free to find out what had her younger sister so excited.

"You're not going to believe this one, El," Lydia said. "It's perfect. I love it. If you don't choose it, I'm going to buy it even though I'm not getting married for ages, if at all. George and I are thinking of just living together, since marriage is always messy and stuff, but then I think of Ma and how she'd kill me for 'living in sin,' and..."

"What is it, Lydia?" Elisabeth asked impatiently.

Lydia held up a sleeveless silver micro-mini dress. "Isn't it outrageous? You'd certainly get Darcy's attention if you danced down the aisle in this."

"If God didn't strike you dead for wearing such a thing in church," Jenna said.

"Unfortunately, that's not going to come anywhere close to fitting me," Elisabeth said ruefully. "It's made for someone like you, Liddy. Have it with my blessing."

Lydia squealed. "Thank you thank you thank you!" She took a deep, excited breath. "There's another one, but it's just a plain white dress and it's bigger. I think it might fit you. Want to try it on?"

"That's nice of you, but I don't think I'd look good in a sleeveless, almost skirt-less dress."

"This one has sleeves." Lydia held the other dress up. It was a slip of a dress with long sleeves that had a gauzy look to it.

Elisabeth looked around, trying to find Ruth.

"I'll keep her distracted so you can at least try it on," Lydia said. "Go for it." And before Elisabeth could argue with her, Lydia was off to tell her mother what she'd found.

"I wonder what Ma's going to say to that dress Lydia's buying," Jenna mumbled.

"She'll probably think it's perfect." Elisabeth hurried over to a dressing room, where she tried on the micro-mini. The dress was a bit loose, but the skirt was far too short. Elisabeth was certain that she looked ridiculous as she walked out of the dressing room and over to the full-length mirror nearby.

Elisabeth gasped with surprise. "I didn't realize I had such good legs," she said as she whirled around. The dress whirled with her. "Hey, Ma! Is this the kind of dress you wore back when you and Daddy were dating?"

Ruth, whose attention had been diverted by Lydia just long enough for Elisabeth to try on the dress, gasped and put a hand to her chest. "Elisabeth Cathleen Bennet, is that your idea of a joke? There is no way you are wearing that to your wedding!"

"I think that's a definite 'no, I didn't wear a dress like this to catch your father,'" Jenna murmured. "Dare you to tell her you want this one."

"Come on, Jen. We're nearing our record for the number of days without a major fight." In a louder voice, Elisabeth said, "No, Ma. It's just that I've never tried on a micro-mini and thought I'd see how it looked."

"Well, for heaven's sake, get out of that dress before someone sees you. There's something to be said for modesty, you know."

"She used to own one," Lydia piped up. "I've seen the pictures, so I don't see why you're so upset with El for trying one on."

"Times have changed, that's why," Ruth said. "And stop encouraging her, young lady. I don't care that it fits, you're not buying that dress."

The micro-mini had Ruth hustling her daughters out of the vintage wedding gown shop and back into more traditional----and modern----surroundings.

But not before Lydia bought the silver dress.

At the next dress shop they tried, Elisabeth found the most outrageous gown she could within three seconds. It was actually two pieces----a white stretch denim mermaid silhouette skirt with an Alencon lace jacket. Once again, Lydia was used to distract Ruth by cooing over the biggest meringue of a dress in the store while Elisabeth tried on the dress. When she came out and saw her reflection in the mirror, she burst into laughter.

"I think you'd better get back into that dressing room before Ma sees you in that dress," Jenna cautioned. "You've got quite a bit more chest to expose these days with that jacket."

Elisabeth looked down at her lace-covered front. Only her bra was keeping her from being exposed from the waist up because the lace didn't cover up much of anything. "I think you're right, but wouldn't it be worth it just to see the look on Darcy's face when he saw me in this?"

"He'd be lending you his tuxedo jacket and preparing to beat guys off with a stick," Jenna said with a grin. "Now, into the dressing room before...."

A high-pitched shriek told them it was too late. Ruth came stalking toward her middle daughter, her face red and looking ready to tear the dress off of her. Jenna, perhaps sensing the same thing, stepped between Elisabeth and Ruth.

"You're not taking this seriously!" Ruth accused. "We've driven all this way to find you a dress because you've been so particular you couldn't be happy with any of the others, and you're mocking me!"

"I'm not," Elisabeth said. "I was curious about how this would look. Now I know it wouldn't suit me, so I can keep looking. And keep your voice down. You're making a scene."

"And how often is it you find Elisabeth saying that?" Elisabeth heard Lydia whisper to Jenna.

"I'm just getting practice in for Grace," Elisabeth replied. "I'll go change, Ma. Keep looking at dresses."

Four hours, three bridal shops, and many close calls later, it finally happened. Elisabeth saw the dress.

Her dress.

Elisabeth touched one of the gossamer-fine sheer sleeves with a fingertip, marveling in the feel of it. She felt a small shiver and knew this was the one for her. The ivory satin Empire-waist dress had a square neckline and a simple, flowing skirt with a chapel train. But it was the sleeves which sold her on the dress. Made of sheer chiffon, they were slightly wider at the wrists, which would prevent the claustrophobic feeling she'd been getting when wearing a long-sleeved dress. At the same time, they weren't so wide that she would fear catching them on every doorknob she came across. There was no lace and no bows anywhere. Elisabeth wasn't sure how it would look on her, but she was willing to wear a corset right out of Gone with the Wind if that was what it took to make it look good.

"If this dress doesn't fit, I'm going to shoot myself," she murmured.

Jenna, who had been glancing at a completely different dress, glanced over at Elisabeth. "What?"

"This is my dress," she breathed. "I want this one." She pointed at it.

Jenna motioned for the tall redhead who was assisting them to come over. "I think we have a winner," she said. "Elisabeth likes this one."

"An excellent choice," the woman, whose name was Wendie, said. She glanced over at Ruth, who was busy with another assistant. "Um...shall I make sure your mother is well-distracted while you try this on?"

Elisabeth shook her head. "No. This is the one I want, so she's going to have to give me her opinion at some point. I'll just make sure it fits first, though."

Minutes later, Elisabeth was in heaven. The dress had seemed to know that it was meant for her, because it fit perfectly. Blinking back tears, Elisabeth walked out of the dressing room to stand in front of the three-way mirror.

Now I just need a veil, she thought as she stared at her reflection.

"I hope you don't mind, but your sister and I took the liberty of looking at veils and thought this one might suit you."

Elisabeth, startled out of her reverie, turned to find Wendie standing behind her, holding a filmy white veil edged with ribbon.

"This is a two-tier waterfall veil, elbow length so you don't feel like you're draped from head to toe," Wendie said as she placed it on Elisabeth's head.

"Yes. I'll take it. I'll take that veil and this dress and...and I did it, Jenna. I found my dress. Ma! Lydia! I found my dress!" Elisabeth called, waving them over.

Lydia scurried over to take a look at the dress. She gave it a critical once-over before saying, "Well, not my style, but it looks great on you."

"Thanks a lot for the validation, Liddy," Elisabeth said, but she was too happy to care.

Ruth stared at the dress for a while, thoughtful. Elisabeth held her breath, because in spite of everything, she wanted her mother to like this dress. She was sure Ruth could have no objections to it. It was perfect.

"Well?" Elisabeth asked when Ruth hadn't spoken.

Ruth shook her head. "I'm sorry, Elisabeth, but it won't do. Not for your wedding. Now, I have a dress over here that I think you're going to love. I know I loved it when I saw it."

Elisabeth looked down at the floor. Her hands were trembling and she had to blink back tears again. Finally, she looked at her mother, who had taken a few steps in expectation of Elisabeth following her and was looking back because she hadn't. "No," she said.

Ruth looked puzzled. "What?"

"I'm sorry, Ma, but no. I'm not going to look at another wedding gown because I've found the one I want." Elisabeth looked down at the dress she was wearing. "This is the dress."

"But Elisabeth, that's too plain to wear. Not to mention that it looks nothing like the dresses you've chosen for your bridesmaids, except for the neckline, I guess. Your wedding should have some cohesion to it. Now, the dress that Monica was just showing me is absolutely..."

"Not for me. This is my dress. And as for 'cohesion,' every single dress you've liked today has matched nothing about my wedding. Jenna's dress looks a little like this one, not that it should matter. I'm the one who's going to be wearing the dress."

"I realize that, dear, but you've barely even bothered to look at the dress over here. I think you'd like it much better. It's lovely. No bows and not a lot of lace, off the shoulder with long sleeves. You'd even like the skirt. It doesn't have a hoop!"

"Neither...does...this...one," Elisabeth said, clenching her teeth and barely managing to hold on to her temper.

"It's absolutely out of the question. I don't like that dress. It does nothing for you, and those sleeves will get caught on everything. Since I'm paying for the dress, I think I should get some input on what..."

Elisabeth had finally had enough. "No, you don't! This is my wedding, not yours! Do you hear me, Ruth Atchison! My wedding! If you don't like something about it, tough toenails! From here on out, I'm doing things my way."

Ruth colored. "There's no need to shout at me. I'm well aware of the fact that this is your wedding. If it were someone else's wedding, I wouldn't be paying for it."

"I almost wish you were paying for someone else's wedding, because having you pay for this one has meant putting up with your interference in everything, and at this point, I'd rather not have your money!" By now, tears were streaming down Elisabeth's face, but she didn't care. "Ever since we started, everything has had to be your way, regardless of how I wanted it. You didn't like my catering idea. You didn't like my invitations. You didn't like my D.J. You hate my first dance song, although you won't admit it. You hate emerald green and you'd just as soon I find a couple more twigs like Lydia for my wedding party so that I don't have to worry about different dress patterns for Charlie and Ginger."

"Are you about finished?" Ruth asked coldly.

"Not quite," Elisabeth replied, lowering her voice but not the intent in her tone. "I've put up with you up until now because there were some things I just didn't care enough about to fight for. I've ground my teeth at night until Darcy wakes up from the noise. I've let you drag me all across the state in search of the right dress, which I've finally found. I've put up with your opinions until I want to scream. But this is where it ends. I've found the dress I'm going to wear. I'm sorry if it's not frilly enough for you, but as I said in the beginning, this is my wedding. My wedding, my dress, my choice. If you don't like what I've chosen, then I'll pay for the dress myself. For that matter, I'll pay for everything myself. It'll make things a hell of a lot easier on me than they have been when you've been paying!"

When Elisabeth finished, she heard clapping. She turned to see Jenna and Lydia were applauding her little speech. Ruth was silent.

Elisabeth turned to Wendie. "I'll take the dress. And the veil. And since we're here, do you also sell shoes? I'm on a good streak and just might find the right pair."

Chapter Sixty-Two

Darcy got a kick out of Elisabeth's retelling of the incident at the bridal shop, and was more than happy to give her the money for her wedding gown, since Ruth flatly refused to pay for it. As Elisabeth's struggles with her mother had progressed to that point, Darcy had felt guiltier and guiltier about not taking his share of responsibility for planning the wedding. When they'd first started talking about it, he had planned to help out as much as he could, but Ruth had forced him out of things early on and he'd been stuck in the role of sympathetic listener. Well, he'd also managed to become the envelope and stamp licker when they'd mailed out the invitations. He was still trying to get the taste of glue out of his mouth.

Although he would never admit it to Elisabeth, he couldn't help thinking at times that it was for the best that he wasn't involved in the wedding plans, because plans for the bookstore were consuming much of his time. Once he became the official owner of the store, Darcy had closed the place down at the beginning of February with a small sign informing people that he would be reopening on March 31.

Since then, he'd had the walls painted Wedgewood blue and had new carpeting installed. He had also bought----and burned----about a hundred scented candles to get rid of the lingering smell of paint and new carpet, with marginal success. He'd bought expensive new shelves for the books and, with Charlie's help, was still in the middle of organizing all of Mary Ann's stock. That was turning out to be the hardest part. Darcy had only ever looked in the classics, which had been well-organized, but the rest of it had been scattered all over. He'd found biographies in with the romances. There had been westerns mixed in with the sci-fi books, and children's books were scattered throughout everything. And the storage room was even worse.

He purchased a computer in order to keep track of his finances as well as keeping track of customers' trade credit. Mary Ann kept the information on index cards, which might have worked fine for her but would drive him crazy. He'd spent the better part of a day entering all the information into the computer, as well as his business plans and a few games to play when he got bored.

He hired someone to paint the outside of the building, allowing Charlie to choose the color, then arranged for the parking lot to be paved. If there was one thing he truly despised, it was the rocky parking lot.

Now, with approximately three weeks to go before his wedding, and four weeks before the store opening, there wasn't much left to do outside of ordering a few new books to go with the old ones, make arrangements for advertising, and prepare himself for whatever might happen the day he reopened the store.

Elisabeth got the mail the Wednesday morning following her disastrous shopping trip with her mother and sisters and found a large, thick envelope crammed into the mailbox. Her heart pounding fiercely and her hands shaking, she took it out along with the rest of the mail. She locked the box back up and went back inside. She met Darcy at the front door of their apartment.

"Sorry I have to leave so soon," he said. "I just got a call that my tux had arrived, so I'm going to make sure it's right."

"Darcy, I'm sure you had a dozen tuxes that would've worked. You didn't have to spend the money," Elisabeth pointed out. "Chazz and Jack are just renting theirs."

"They're not the ones getting married. I am, and I wanted my own tux, even if I had to go to St. Louis in order to get it. Shouldn't I be allowed to get what I want when it's my wedding day?"

"You're mocking me, aren't you."

"Not at all. I would never mock a bride on the brink." Darcy kissed her quickly. "I should be back sometime early this afternoon. But then I'm going to see if the signs for the bookstore are ready and if they are, I'll be over there deciding where I want everything. Do you have to work today?"

Elisabeth nodded. "Not until this evening, though. Bubba's working today. I can leave Grace with my mother, though, if you're not back in time. She's always glad to see her granddaughter, in spite of our fights."

"I'll definitely try to get back, because I know you're not glad to see your mother these days," Darcy said. "I love you."

"Love you, too." Elisabeth waved as he hustled down the stairs and out the hallway door. She walked into the apartment, glad he hadn't noticed that she'd been holding the mail in her hand, not sure of what he might think when she told him what she'd done.

She set the mail on the kitchen counter and went to check on Grace, who was awake but entranced by the stuffed kangaroo playing music that Darcy had set in her crib. The music was slowing down, so Elisabeth wound it up again and figured she had a minute or two before it stopped and Grace started crying. She walked back into the kitchen and picked up the envelope.

She stared at it for a minute. "This is stupid," she said. "You know what it's going to say. It wouldn't be a big envelope otherwise. So go ahead and open it and get that out of the way." And with that, she ripped it open and read the cover letter inside.

Ms. Elisabeth Bennet:

I am pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Eastern Illinois University...

Elisabeth hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath. She released it slowly.

In what she would've termed a moment of insanity, she'd decided in January that she wasn't going to go back to work at Planet Earth Pizza. Instead, she told herself, she would go to college, so she'd applied at Eastern. She still had no idea what she wanted to study or do with her life, but she wanted to go. She wanted to get some sort of degree, because how could she ever encourage Grace to go to college when she herself hadn't gone?

Of course, Elisabeth realized now that she'd been going through quite a bit of stress, what with her mother pressing decisions about the wedding on her and having to adjust her life because of Grace. If she'd put it off until she had a clearer head to make the decision, she...

...would still be waiting, Elisabeth thought with a rueful smile as Grace started fussing. Not crying exactly, but the sort of whimpering that Elisabeth knew meant Grace was feeling neglected. She walked back to the nursery to pick Grace up.

"Mama is crazy. You do know that, right?" Elisabeth asked Grace, who immediately calmed down by being in her mother's arms. "She's crazy because she's gone and done something Daddy might not like. Even though Daddy suggested she might like to go back to school..." Elisabeth paused.

Yes, Darcy had mentioned that he thought it would be a good idea if she wanted to go back to school, when they'd been thinking about going to New York after Grace was born. But that had been based on the belief that he would get a high-paying job after leaving De Bourgh Enterprises. Now that he was on his own, without the high-paying job...

Oh, for heaven's sake, the man didn't go broke just because he left New York. He's got enough money to last the two of you a lifetime if you're smart. He's not going to begrudge you the money to go to college. And if you don't find anything you want to study, you can leave.

Elisabeth frowned. If she left Planet Earth Pizza to go to college, then decided college wasn't for her, she would blow her chance to get her own store. Right now, that possibility was still up in the air. George had managed to stay good since Christmas, but who knew how long that would last? Her store could be right around the corner.

Or it could never come. That was something she couldn't overlook. She shifted Grace enough so that she could pick up the letter again and read through it. If she accepted the place she was being offered, she'd need to send them a deposit by the beginning of May.

Well, that gives me a little time. I can talk to Darcy and make sure he still thinks it's a good idea. And maybe George will screw up and I'll get the store, so I won't need go to go college.

Elisabeth frowned and set the letter down again. She walked into the living room and sat in the rocking chair that had been one of Darcy's Christmas gifts to her. She slowly began rocking, because Grace loved to be rocked.

The other reason she'd been thinking about college was because of what Charlie had said on New Year's Eve. Although Charlie always groused about having to work at Planet Earth Pizza, behind the grousing had been the knowledge that someday, she'd be able to leave. She could leave now, if she budgeted properly.

Elisabeth, on the other hand, had no real options. If she left Planet Earth Pizza, where would she go? To a factory, where overtime would be mandatory and she'd have to start on the third shift? She'd never see Darcy or Grace if she did that, and she'd be tired all the time. She could go to another restaurant, but why would she trade one job she didn't like for another? This reasoning had been a big part of the reason she'd applied to college.

Now she had her acceptance letter. She just didn't know if she was ready to take the risk.

A soft tap at her door startled her. She jostled Grace, whose brow wrinkled. She looked ready to cry, but Elisabeth murmured, "It's okay, baby. It's just someone at the front door." It was to no avail. Grace started crying.

Elisabeth stood up and walked over to the front door. She shifted Grace to one arm and opened the door with her free hand. Charlie was on the other side, looking apologetic.

"I thought I was being quiet," she said.

"You were. I was just thinking of other things and startled the baby. Come on in, if you can bear the crying." Elisabeth stepped aside so Charlie could come in. Charlie followed her in and shut the door so Elisabeth didn't have to. "So, what's up?"

"Not much. I just thought I'd come up before going to the store and seeing how you were doing."

"I'm fine. Or I would be fine, if this one would stop fussing so much. She's been so cranky lately." Elisabeth sat in the rocking chair again. "I'd offer you something to drink, but..."

"I can get it," Charlie said, walking into the kitchen. A moment later, she was back out with the envelope from Eastern in her hand. "El, what's this?"

"Oh, hell," Elisabeth mumbled. "Um...just some information I sent away for. Nothing much. You know, I was thinking that maybe...someday...oh, hell. I got into college."

Charlie squeaked in delight. "I'm so happy for you!" she exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to apply?"

"Because I did it in a moment of insanity and have spent the past two months somewhere between hoping that I wouldn't get in and hoping I would." Grace was starting to grow quiet. "Now that it's here, I'm not sure what to do about it."

"Well...you go, of course."

Elisabeth smiled. "I wish it was that simple for me, Charlie."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"For a lot of reasons. If I go to college, I'd have to quit working." Elisabeth looked down at Grace, whose eyes were starting to close. "A year ago, maybe I could've done both. But if I try to do it now, I'm going to always be at school or at work and then I'll miss so many things with Grace that I don't want to miss. It's hard enough for me to leave her with Darcy when I go to work, because I can't be sure that I'll be getting off of work when I'm scheduled to go. And when I close, when I leave depends on how fast everything can get done."

"I see where this is going," Charlie said. "Quit your job and risk not liking college, or give up on college and risk ending up in the rut to end all ruts, like me."

"You're hardly in a rut. Not with everything that's been going on in your life of late." Elisabeth sighed. "And on top of that problem, I wonder if Darcy's still going to think it's a good idea now that he's starting his own business rather than going to work for someone else."

"El, just out of curiosity and not for mercenary reasons, how much did Darcy get when he left De Bourgh Enterprises?" Charlie asked.

"About two and a half million was what she gave him."

Charlie's eyes grew wide. "Two and a half million dollars? Why the hell are you still working? You two could be home with Grace all day instead of him opening a bookstore and you contemplating whether or not you'll take a promotion when it's offered. I'd do it in a heartbeat."

"Would you?"

"Damn right I would. If you two don't want the money, how about giving me a loan so I can get started on my way to indolence?"

For about half a minute, Elisabeth thought Charlie was serious. Then she laughed. "You know you'd never do that, Charlie," she said. "You'd go crazy in a month with nothing to do. You might think it would be fun to sit around and just read and do nothing all day, but after a while you'd get bored senseless. Believe me, I'm speaking from experience. It was hard to leave Grace with Darcy when I went back to work, but I'm glad I did. Even if it is Planet Earth Pizza, it's a place to go. It's something to do that doesn't revolve around getting married and raising a child."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I do like my job at Heartland, even if it does pay less than what my sister makes working for the police department. And I like the people I work with." Charlie smiled. "But you've got a baby. Don't you want to spend as much time with her as you can?"

"I would, but at the same time, I'd be afraid to do that. I just know I'd turn into one of those smothering mothers that lives life through her child and has to know where she is every second of the day and has no life of her own."

"Sounds like my friend Tracy. Even worse, her son is spoiled rotten and doesn't know what the word 'no' means. I was over at her new apartment the other day and even though they've only been there a week, he's already got the place torn up. And she doesn't seem to care."

"I thought she had a job."

"She does because she can't afford not to be out of work." Charlie sighed. "It's a twisted mess."

"Of course it is. It's the real world," Elisabeth said. She looked down at the baby. "Come on, Grace. You need to sleep. It's late and you hardly slept all day."

"Has Sean told you that you're definitely going to get your own store?"

Elisabeth shook her head. "It's all going to come down to what Knightley Corporation wants to do with George and his sexual harassment claims. George is telling them that he's reformed and learned from his mistakes, which is the biggest pile of you-know-what I've ever heard. I hear they're leaning toward giving him one more chance. Supposedly, he went to sensitivity training."

Charlie snorted. "It'll give him all sorts of new material for his sexist jokes."

Both were quiet for a minute. Elisabeth rocked Grace, who looked like she might finally be settling down.

"How long do you have to decide on Eastern?" Charlie asked.

"Until May 1, I think. That's when my deposit is due, so I'm guessing that's how long I have to decide. I haven't gone through everything yet." Elisabeth stared at the wall. "I think I'm going to do it, though. If I haven't heard about getting my own store by...by April 15, I'll send my deposit and go to college. How does that sound?"

"What are you asking me for? You don't need my approval. You're a grown woman...older than me, I might add..."

"You're always thrilled to remind me of that, aren't you?"

Charlie grinned. "About as thrilled as you used to be when you told me that I was 'too young to understand' things as kids. I used to hate that. Now I realize that it was just the groundwork for my revenge as we get older."

"Yeah, well, you're not that much younger than I am, so don't go getting to smug about being the younger one." Elisabeth glanced at the clock on the wall. "What time were you supposed to be at work?"

Charlie glanced at the clock and stood up. "Ooh. I'm going to be late if I don't get going. I'll see you later, okay?"

"Sure." Elisabeth nodded. "Hey, Charlie, I've been meaning to ask how things are going with Jack and his mother. Are they any better than they were at Christmas or worse?"

"I don't see her or those sisters of his. I think that's a good thing. Jack still has to deal with them, which is a bad thing. He had to drag her to her last appointment with her psychiatrist, because she's back to believing that she's not mentally ill." Charlie hesitated. "I think she might have my phone number, though."

"What makes you say that?"

"The other day, I got home and saw Jack's number on my Caller ID. I thought he'd called me until I noticed the time. He was teaching at Kluthe at the time of the call. Then yesterday, his number came up again on a call and all I heard was someone breathing. I hung up on her."

"That's scary," Elisabeth said, frowning. "Did you tell Jack about it?"

Charlie nodded. "He told me he'd take care of it. He's not sure how she got my number----I mean, it's not exactly lying around his house or anything----but if it was her, he said he'd put a stop to it. I just hope..."

"Hope what?"

"There's a good chance that she's about to find a place in Vandalia. She meets the requirements and all they were waiting on was for a spot to open up for her. Jack met with the coordinator of the program and said she seemed like a nice woman. He tried to take his mother along on a tour of the facility, but she refused. He's going to try again soon."

"Well, that's good. It'll be good for her and good for Jack. Right?"

Charlie nodded. "I think it will be. Jack isn't so convinced. It's not that he thinks he can continue to take care of her, because he knows he can't. But I think he would rather she stay with one of his sisters than go to a group home."

"Why doesn't she?"

"The sisters refuse to take her back. She's not going to be their problem, but they don't want Jack to place her in a home where she could be treated effectively."

Elisabeth shook her head. "I still don't get that family."

"I've given up on it myself." Charlie sighed. "I sometimes wonder if I've pushed Jack to do this."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'm the one who suggested that a group home would be the best place for her. But who am I to make such a judgment? I don't know her well at all. I know the situation, and I've seen similar ones handled in much the same way, but each case is different. Maybe she would do better if she went to live with one of his sisters."

"Maybe one of them will step in before she goes to a group home to take over responsibility for her," Elisabeth said. "It's a slim possibility, but it's better than nothing."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Charlie shrugged. "I have to get going. I'll see you later."

Elisabeth watched her cousin walk out of the apartment, being sure to close the door quietly behind her.

Darcy returned home in time for Elisabeth to go to work without having to run Grace over to Ruth's. He decided to get a little more organizing done at the bookstore, which meant bundling up Grace and taking her along. She barely noticed, she was so happy to see her father. She gurgled with glee as he secured her in her car seat and drove her to the store.

One of the other changes he had made to the store was to include a little crib near the register so he could have Grace near him when Elisabeth had to work. He placed the baby in there and got back to work. He was in the middle of alphabetizing Westerns at the front counter when he heard the door swing open. He frowned but didn't look up.

"We're closed at the moment," he said as he found yet another Zane Grey novel.

"I can see that."

Darcy felt a chill run down his back in recognition of the voice. He turned to see his aunt standing in the doorway. "How the hell did you get in here?" he asked.

"I saw your car was in the parking lot, and the door was unlocked," she said simply. She glanced about the place with a small, disdainful look in her eyes. "And I suppose I shouldn't be surprised at your course language. She taught you that, yes?"

"No, I always knew how to swear. I just learned to somehow curb my tongue when you were around." Darcy stood up, gave Grace a quick look to make sure she was sleeping, not that she would comprehend anything anyway, and walked around the counter. "In fact, I managed to refrain from doing a lot of things while you were around. Wringing your neck, for a start."

Catherine shook her head. "That is all the thanks I get for raising you after..."

"We've had this discussion already, Catherine. If you've come to revive it because you've forgotten anything, I'll loan you the tape. You'll want to be sure to watch the part where I figured out you were never named our guardian a few times, just so it'll sink in."

Catherine inhaled sharply. "I did what was best for you and Georgiana. You were Darcys."

"We were Williamsons first," Darcy corrected her. "And our parents wanted us raised by his family, not by you." He turned his attention back to the books. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I..." She didn't continue, which Darcy found rather interesting. Catherine was never without words, or almost never. It had happened once or twice in his recent memory. He looked up at the books to find her frowning at the place. "I...came to see what was so special about this town that made you turn away from everything you were brought up to be."

Darcy shrugged. "I figured you knew. You sent me here."

"That was hardly the reason. I sent you here because Sean Fitzwilliam had a reputation for being one of the toughest store managers in the company. I thought he would give you enough work to make you come back immediately, humbled."

"Sean could've worked me until I dropped dead, but I would never have come back before the year was up. You know how you always talked about loyalty? My loyalty to Ginger is what would've kept me here forever, if need be." Darcy went back to the books. "Loyalty and love. But I guess you would never understand that."

"I know a great deal about loyalty," Catherine said coldly.

"Sure. But what about love? Have you ever truly loved anyone, Catherine? Have you ever had a bad day made a little bit better because you knew there was someone who would be there when it was over to help you get over it?"

"This must be something you learned in one of those ridiculous therapy sessions," she scoffed.

Darcy smiled. "I'll take that as a no. It doesn't matter anymore. You still haven't told me why you're here. If you've come to mock my meager attempt to start something without your support, then you know where the door is."

Catherine stiffened. "You didn't answer my question. What is it about this town..."

"You make this place sound like Sunnydale's Hellmouth," Darcy muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing. And as for the town, I would've thought you'd realized by now. It's not the town. It's the people who live here."

"That Elisabeth creature, I suppose. Tell me, did you not bother to read the envelope Anne gave you? Do you still deny that she was involved with George Wickham, and that George was the man who got your sister into trouble? Does Georgiana know? And how does she feel about your relationship with this girl?"

Darcy paused for a moment. "Which question to answer first...yes, I read the envelope Anne gave me. And then I asked Elisabeth about it." Not exactly the truth, but how would she ever know? "But she wasn't involved with George, not in the way you tried to insinuate. The day George returned from New York, Elisabeth dropped him off and went to a funeral for a cousin."

"So she says," Catherine sneered.

"So I know. She's got a scrapbook with the young man's obituary in it. Do you want to argue with a beloved cousin's obituary? Be my guest. I'm sure Elisabeth will let you know exactly what she thinks when you ask her. Next question...I'm guessing you were asking if Ginger knows that George fathered Elisabeth's baby. Yes, she does, and she doesn't care. She's thrilled that Elisabeth and I are together. Any other questions I can answer for you?"

"Yes. I would like to know the meaning of this." Catherine reached into the purse she'd brought along and slapped something next to the stack of books on his counter. Darcy recognized it immediately. God knew he should, because it was the only one of its' kind. Everyone else he or Elisabeth cared about had received an invitation to the wedding.

Catherine had received an announcement of their wedding, but not an invitation. The only problem was, she wasn't supposed to have received it until after the wedding. Darcy realized that the announcement must've been mailed by mistake when the invitations went out a few weeks earlier.

"I would think that to a woman of your vast intelligence, the meaning of that would be clear. It's a wedding announcement." Darcy picked it up.

"Seems pretty straightforward to me," he said. "A little earlier than it was supposed to be sent, sure, but you get the gist of it."

"You're actually marrying this girl?"

"Looks like it. Nothing's gotten by you today, has it? Now, if that's all you came to ask, I once again remind you that the door's that way." Darcy pointed at it.

"You would throw away everything I could give you? All the advantages of your birth...position, power, wealth, everything...for this girl?"

"I already have. I quit, remember? You even sent me a nice severance package to go with your acceptance of my resignation and told the press that you fired me." Darcy laughed. "You never give up, do you, Catherine? You can't stand the fact that you don't call the shots anymore."

"I don't know what you're talking about. All I've ever wanted..."

"Was for me to be just like your father. Only I never could be, because I wasn't born George Darcy. I was born Darcy Williamson. You just couldn't accept that." He hesitated for a second. "But in one respect, you were right about me being a Darcy. My mother walked away from your life without thinking twice. I'm just following in her footsteps."

It was impossible for Catherine to look sad. Darcy would say the expression on her face came closer to resignation...but that was pretty much impossible for her, too. "I pity you, Darcy. I came here today because in spite of everything, you are my only living nephew..."

"No, I'm not!" Darcy snapped. "Do you ever remember that you have another sister? She has a son. She has two of them, in fact. James and Nicholas. Only you don't count them because Melissa didn't go along with the Darcy party line, either. You have a funny way of cutting off communication with people who don't meet your standards, and I might've turned out that way if it hadn't been for Elisabeth. If you came here to make one more appeal to my 'better nature,' my 'sensible side,' or my 'familial pride,' then you came for nothing. I'm fine where I am, and nothing could tempt me to return to the life you planned for me."

Catherine nodded. "And you're certain Elisabeth feels the same about you?" she asked.

"Absolutely. I wouldn't be here otherwise." Darcy turned back to the books. "Goodbye, Catherine. I trust I won't see you again anytime soon."

"You might see me sooner than you think." Catherine slapped an envelope on the counter. "Take a look at that before you decide you really want to marry into this family. You might change your mind before it's over."

Darcy gave the envelope a cursory glance but said nothing. Once Catherine was gone, Darcy took the envelope and went outside to burn it. He'd already been misled by one of Catherine's envelopes "full of information." He didn't give a damn if Elisabeth came from a long line of serial killers.

He loved her, and he was going to marry her.

Elisabeth leaned against the front counter, bored senseless. It would be another week before the colleges in the area had their spring breaks, which would bring in more business than they currently had. As she stood, looking around the almost-empty dining room, she felt restless. Plus, she was really missing Grace. She thought of putting in a phone call to Darcy at the bookstore when she heard the front door open.

Elisabeth straightened as she saw the elegantly-dressed woman with the short silver hair walk into the restaurant. "Good evening, ma'am," she said politely. "How may I help you?"

The woman glanced around for a moment before focusing on Elisabeth. Or rather, on Elisabeth's...chest? Elisabeth looked down, wondering if she had a stain on her shirt, but saw nothing. She looked back up at the woman.

"You are Elisabeth Bennet?" the woman asked.

Elisabeth didn't recognize the voice exactly, since the only time she'd heard it had been over the telephone, but the tone was unforgettable. It was Catherine de Bourgh.

Just remember that she has no more authority over you. She sold the chain to someone else and can do absolutely nothing to you now.

"That's what the name tag reads, anyway," Elisabeth said with bravado. "It's...nice to finally meet you, Catherine."

"I received your wedding announcement," Catherine told her.

"Ah." Elisabeth puzzled for about three seconds over who might've accidentally sent that to her before realizing that it had to have been her mother. Great timing as usual, Ma. "And you're here to congratulate us? Well, thanks for my share of the favor. I'll be sure to pass it along to Darcy."

"I've already been to see my nephew in that...place he's bought."

"Nice, isn't it? You should've seen it before he started renovating. You wouldn't recognize it now." Elisabeth smiled as though she was pleased to see the woman. "Did you happen to see Grace?"

"Grace?"

"Our daughter. I would've figured your private investigator would've told you all about it. On the day you sent your flunky to convince Darcy that I was up to no good, I gave birth to a little girl. We named her Charlotte Grace Williamson, after my cousin Charlie, but we call her Grace."

Catherine's mouth thinned. "Your daughter, you mean. Not his. The girl doesn't have a drop of Darcy blood in her."

Elisabeth shrugged. "I never said she did. Darcy doesn't seem to care. If it doesn't bother him, why should it bother you?"

"Miss Bennet, I haven't come here to chitchat about banal issues with you. In other words..."

"You're not here to confabulate about quotidian vexations. I got it." Catherine seemed taken aback and for once in her life, Elisabeth was glad for Charlie and her most annoying habit after the name thing...using bizarre words that sent everyone scurrying for a dictionary. "You're in an emotional quagmire." That phrase was of her own creation.

"A what?"

"It means you're not happy that Darcy's marrying me, are you?" Like that wasn't obvious to the world, Elisabeth thought with a mental cringe. You had to follow 'quotidian vexations' with that?

"No, I must say, I am not." Catherine regained her composure. "Miss Bennet, I have tried to make my nephew see reason, but he will not. Therefore, I am asking you if perhaps you can."

"If I can what?" Elisabeth asked, deliberately being obtuse. "Do you want me to see reason or do you want me to help him see reason?"

"I would prefer that both of you come to your senses," Catherine said. "This marriage cannot take place."

Elisabeth was glad she was behind the counter and not in front of it. It allowed her to curl her hands into fists without Catherine seeing it. "I don't see why not," she replied. "Darcy loves me, and I love him. Marriage is the usual result of such feelings. Or at least, that's what I always thought."

"It would be a serious misalliance. Do you have any idea of Darcy's lineage?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Elisabeth couldn't resist. "It was the first thing I checked into when he started paying me some attention. I wanted to know everything about him. It was obvious he screamed money. I just had no idea how much."

Catherine sneered. "It doesn't surprise me that a girl of your sort would do such a thing. Money was the first thing that crossed your mind, was it?"

Elisabeth felt stung, and a line from some movie or other popped into her head. Don't go messing with the big girls, or you'll be in way over your head. She guessed it was true.

"I was hoping you would be the sort of girl who could be reasoned with." Catherine gave her a tight-lipped smile. "You'll be pleased to know that I'm here today to make you an...offer. It's a one-time deal, and Darcy is never to know."

Is this really happening to me?

"I happen to know exactly how much Darcy is worth. I'm sure you know this as well, since you looked up the information."

"I..."

"Don't interrupt me. You're about to become a very rich woman." Catherine cleared her throat. I'm willing to offer you five million dollars if you'll break your engagement to Darcy and promise never to see him again." She was silent, allowing that to sink in. "Think of everything you could do with that money. You could quit working here. Your daughter would want for nothing. If you invest wisely, your daughter's children will want for nothing. It's a fair offer."

"And all I have to do is give up my life," Elisabeth said softly.

"No. All you have to give up is my nephew."

Elisabeth shook her head. "You don't understand. Darcy is my life. Not in the sense that he's all I live for and all I think about, but...well, you were married. You know how it is."

Catherine frowned. "Now I see where he got it."

"What?"

"Never mind. You're still a young woman...twenty-eight?"

"Six. I'm twenty-six."

"Forgive me. You'll certainly find someone in your future. Someone more suited to your...your life than Darcy."

"We seem to get along fine together. He's had no complaints."

"My nephew is blinded by...well, I don't know what. Passion, I suppose. When he comes to his senses..."

"I would say he already has." Elisabeth blinked back tears. For the first time, she had an idea of how difficult Darcy's life had been after the death of his parents. He'd had to put up with this woman controlling him and forcing her distorted view of life on everything surrounding him. And maybe he would've gone on letting her do it, except for her.

Elisabeth jumped when she heard the ripping of paper. She hadn't realized she'd been thinking long enough to give Catherine the chance to write out a check. Catherine slid it across the counter at her. Elisabeth glanced at it.

The check was made out to Elisabeth and Grace Bennet.

"My daughter's name is Charlotte Grace Williamson," she said in a low, angry voice. "It never has been, nor will it ever be, Grace Bennet. And in less than three weeks, my last name is going to be Williamson, too." Elisabeth picked up the check and ripped it in half. To be sure she'd made her point, she ripped it again.

"You mean to tell me that you're turning down my offer? You honestly think Darcy is ever going to make any money at that ridiculous bookstore that would equal my generous offer?"

"Your offer was offensive, not generous. And I don't care if Darcy pours every penny he has into the bookstore. I've worked ever since I was fifteen. It won't kill me to work the rest of my life if necessary." Elisabeth scrambled to find the words she wanted to say. "I was joking when I told you that I'd looked up his net worth."

"All jokes have a basis in fact," Catherine said.

"Yeah, well, you're half-right. I did look up everything about him, but it wasn't when we first met or even when we first went out. And I didn't do it because I wanted to know how much money he had." Elisabeth gave her a wintry smile. "I was the one who found his family for him. The one he didn't know anything about, thanks to you. That's why I know his lineage...both sides of it."

Catherine shook her head in disgust. "I thought you would be more reasonable."

Elisabeth's smile grew. "Haven't you heard that people in love are unreasonable? Make no mistake about it, Mrs. De Bourgh. I'm in love with Darcy, and I always will be. And there's nothing in this world that could convince me to leave him. Certainly nothing you have to offer." Elisabeth decided to end the conversation right there.

"Just a moment, young lady! I'm not through with you by a long shot! We haven't even discussed the matter of just who that baby's father actually is! Or about the fact that he is, even as we speak, married to your younger sister!"

Elisabeth frowned. "George and Lydia aren't married. In fact, they're due to break up any minute now."

It was Catherine's turn to smile. "Then explain this," she said, taking an envelope out of her purse and setting it on the counter. Elisabeth opened it up to find three pictures inside. The first was of George and Lydia, standing together and smiling into the camera. In the second picture, they were kissing.

In the third picture, they were holding up what looked to be a marriage certificate. And any thoughts Elisabeth had about the whole thing being faked were gone in an instant when she recognized the dress Lydia was wearing, because it was the silver micro-mini she'd found only a few days earlier.

"They were married Monday afternoon," Catherine said smugly. "What do you think Darcy is going to think when he realizes that marrying you will make him George Wickham's brother-in-law? Do you think he'll be so excited to join your family then? I somehow doubt it."

Elisabeth could only stare at the picture. "George, you rotten son of a b----," she murmured.

"I'll offer you one last chance to take the money and leave my nephew alone," Catherine said. "I'm willing to write you another check. What do you say, Miss Bennet? You know as well as I do that once Darcy finds this out, he'll leave you. Would you rather be left with five million dollars for your future or with nothing?"

"I think I know Darcy a little better than you do," she said. "He didn't leave me when he found out the truth about George and his sister. He won't leave me now. So I'm going to have to pass on your offer."

"Are you so sure of that? It seems to me that I have the advantage of knowing him longer than you. You haven't known him a year. I've known him since he was ten years old."

"You never knew him," Elisabeth said, surprising herself by how calm she sounded. "You only knew what you wanted him to be. Is there anything I can get for you today? Soda? Breadsticks? Something to go?"

Catherine shook her head. "I pity you, Miss Bennet. You're making a huge mistake, because I won't make my offer again."

Elisabeth watched as the other woman turned and walked out of the restaurant. Almost immediately, she ran to the back and grabbed her cell phone. She dialed Lydia's number and got her voice mail.

"Lydia! Lydia, did you just marry George Wickham? You call me the minute you get this message, do you understand me? I mean it!"

Once she hung up from that call, she placed a call to Darcy. She prayed she reached him before his aunt did. She saw a couple of customers looking around to see where the yelling had come from. She ducked out of sight.

"Hello?"

"Darcy, it's me. Listen, I can't talk long because there's someone at the register, but I have to tell you this. Your aunt is in town."

There was a long pause. "You met Catherine?"

"You mean she...she's already been by? You've seen her? Did she tell you? Are you mad? I swear to God, I had no idea this was going to happen."

"Wait a minute. You had no idea what was going to happen? That she'd show up and make a last-ditch effort to get us to break up? I'm guessing that's why she came by, right?"

"She offered me five million dollars to leave you. I tore up her check, but that's not why I called." Elisabeth took a deep breath, counted to five, then counted to five again. "George and Lydia got married Monday."

"What?"

Blinking back tears yet again, she repeated her news. There was a long silence, and then, "I expected it."

"You...why did you expect it? This is not something..."

"Sure it is. Look at it from George's point of view. He wanted money from me. We effectively blocked him from getting any. Now he's looking to get whatever revenge he can, and he sees that by marrying your sister and becoming part of the family that he's getting it."

"That's a lousy reason to marry someone."

"Do you think he loves her?"

"Hell, no."

"Then what other reason would he have? Maybe he got her pregnant, too, and decided to do the right thing for once."

"Oh, God, please don't let her be pregnant. I'd rather it be a revenge thing than that. How would I explain to Grace that...oh, God! He just became her uncle! How are we going to explain that to her when she's old enough?" Elisabeth whimpered. "My life just became a tabloid. Are you sure you still want to marry me?"

"Absolutely."

"You mean you don't care that George and Lydia are married? You..."

"I'm marrying you, Elisabeth. And while it does mean George is going to be part of the family, I can live with it as long as I don't have to see him more than a couple times a year. Besides, we can always hope for the best."

"We were hoping for the best, remember? Look what happened."

"Then we'll just keep hoping. Didn't you have customers waiting at the register?"

"Oh, hell, I do. All right. I'm going."

"I love you, Elisabeth. Don't forget that, okay?"

"I won't," she promised, turning off the phone with a small sigh of relief.

Continued in Next Section