Elizabeth stared back and was determined to outwit her future husband. She and her resolute partner, Colonel Fitzwilliam, planned their strategy and launched their volley. “One evening, the roundest knight at King Arthur’s famous table, Sir Cumference, discovered Sir Lancelot’s moonshine operation; and together with his companions, they shattered the still of the knight.” 

Applause was loud and long; but when it finally petered out, Mr. Bennet and Miss Lucas were ready to retaliate. The gentleman allowed the young lady to present the final pun of the competition. “When King Arthur found out about Queen Guinevere and Sir Lancelot, he knew how to deal with the sworded truth. He banished Sir Lancelot to Egypt, where the disgraced knight opened a very successful camel-lot.” 

It was hard to determine whether the sustained applause was intended for that final pun or whether the audience clapped in appreciation of the end of such a pun-ishing contest. However, the six judges were all in agreement the challenge had clearly ended in a three-way draw; and Mrs. Bennet quickly shooed everyone out and into the dining room. Along the way she beckoned Lady Lucas aside and said, “I do not usually join in when Mr. Bennet, Lizzy, and Lydia are engaged in their silly wordplay. Be that as it may, I do have a couple of my own to add to today’s theme.” 

“Fanny, I know you do not share your naughty puns with your family. Pray tell, what do you have for me today?” 

Mrs. Bennet waited until the others had passed and whispered, “Queen Guinevere nicknamed her favourite beef-cake lover Sir Loin.” The two ladies snickered; and then she added, “King Arthur never let any of his personal musicians go swimming immediately after eating for fear they would get minstrel cramps.” 

Mrs. Bennet had not noticed Mr. Darcy and Lizzy had returned to check why the hostess was missing from her own table. The young couple overheard the last pun; and Darcy said, “I do not get it.” 

His future wife turned red and muttered, “You are very fortunate, indeed, sir.” 

Mr. Darcy would never have groused aloud; however, he had been disappointed to discover the first course was to be lamb st-eew. Elizabeth learned of his dislike but knew he was too much of a gentleman to voice his opinion. “Fitzwilliam, please do not despair. I will simply have our cook prepare another dish for you. You do not have to eat the lamb.” 

Her fiancé sheepishly said, “No, under no circumstances. Please do not go to such bother on my account. Really, my revulsion is too much ado about mutton. I will simply eat the lamb stew. It is time I overcome my dislike. I shall conquer this. I shall.” 

“You are very brave and gallant, Sir Fitzwilliam. I had no idea this day would be such an historic one.” 

“I am afraid to ask … ” 

“Why, today Fitz-William the Conqueror shall engage in the Battle of Tastings.” 

Conversation at the table eventually turned to the Colonel’s appreciation of the fine horseflesh stabled at the mews; and Sir William commented on the exhilarating sight of Miss Elizabeth on Gloriana racing across Longbourn’s meadows against Zephyr, ridden by her father. “But true magnificence, Colonel, would be Bennet’s pride and joy, his grey Arabian stallion. Khaldun Kahleil is an incredible creature; even I, an unskilled rider, can appreciate his spirit and endurance.” He paused to pass the basket of freshly baked bread, biscuits, muffins, and scones back to his host. 

Mr. Bennet thanked Sir William and said to Jane’s future husband, “Well, son, you will just have to visit Hertfordshire to see Kahleil, although he is currently at a neighbouring estate rather than at Longbourn. You see, I hire him out to stud. Muffin, Colonel?” 

The very ladylike Miss Jane Bennet uttered a very unladylike snort, followed by a giggle, and “Excuse me!” 

Mr. Bennet raised his eyebrows and asked, “Was it something I said?”

The engagement dinner held at the Darcy townhouse was a memorable evening for the family members, relatives, and close friends who gathered to celebrate three love matches and the eight-and-twentieth anniversary of the birth of Richard Cosmo Fitzwilliam.

Before the other guests’ arrival, the army officer had been summoned to his uncle’s study where Lord Matlock, Lady Catherine, and their family solicitor informed him of his inheritance. When Sir Lewis shuffled off his mortal coil ten years previously, he had been the final male member of the de Bourgh line. His will stipulated should his marriage produce no male heir, Rosings Park would be bequeathed to his wife’s closest untitled male relation not already in possession of an estate upon that man reaching the responsible age of eight and twenty. In his widow’s opinion, the stipulation was an heir-brained one; and although Lady Catherine did not have the willpower to contest the testament on Anne’s behalf, her disapproval was clearly evident. The mournful expression on the woman’s face was a dead giveaway – which, coincidentally, might also morbidly be considered the definition of a will. 

Wealth can be a rather touchy subject; so when the Bennet family arrived, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was still reeling from the disclosure of his legacy, requested a few private moments with his fiancée in order to inform her of their sudden good fortune. Jane was elated by Richard’s information but not by reason of his newly gained riches. The young lady was, in actuality, more relieved by the fact her husband-to-be would soon resign from his dangerous soldiering occupation. That he was also very well endowed was a just another advantage to which she could look forward. The Colonel’s heart filled with joy, knowing his bride cared more for his safety than for property; and because love can also be a rather touchy subject, the happy couple took advantage of their privacy before joining the others. The well-endowed officer was warned, however, to not dare leave another brand on her skin, as Jane had not the foresight to bring along the high-necked fichu she had used to previously cover the mark he had left behind. 

At the massive dining room table, between courses, announcements were made and toasts were given to those being honoured that evening. The Earl of Matlock made public the news of his second son’s good fortune; and, with the vintage champagne contributed to the festivities by Mr. Edward Gardiner, he proposed a toast. “The Fitzwilliam family motto is ‘Let your desires obey your reason’. Yet I am proud Richard had reason to obey his desire for gaining the hand of such a lovely young lady as Miss Bennet. So, let us now pay tribute to his good reason, the anniversary of his birth, his inheritance, and his engagement.” The Earl lifted his glass and looked to where the Colonel and his beautiful fiancée sat side-by-side. “To quote an Irish blessing, ‘May the saddest day of your future be no worse than the happiest day of your past’. Ladies and gentlemen, to Richard and his Miss Jane Bennet!”