“Yes, thank you, Sonia,” she said as she rose from the tub to dress for the day. My wedding day, she thought with a smile.
As Darcy and Bingley stood in the church awaiting Elizabeth’s arrival, the latter leaned in close to his friend and whispered, “I say, Darcy, you look as though you are going to your death. Smile, man. It is your wedding day, after all, not your funeral.”
Twisting his signet ring, Darcy replied, “Bingley, you know how I detest being in front of a crowd. I cannot help but feel as though I am on display.”
Bingley chuckled. “I would hardly call a handful of your closest relatives, the Bennets, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner a crowd, Darcy.”
“Perhaps,” Darcy conceded as he shrugged, “but you cannot deny that I am certainly on display at the moment.” He ran the back of his hand across his mouth in apparent agitation, then, leaning toward his friend, he said in a low voice, “I must confess, Bingley, I had given very little thought to any of this beyond being wed to the woman I love. I cannot thank you enough for standing up with me.”
“You are most welcome, Darcy. Fear not. It shall soon be over. Then you will have three months in which to recover before you must journey to Hertfordshire to bear witness to my own happiness.” Darcy rolled his eyes, an indulgent smile upon his lips, as with a wide grin, Bingley slapped him on the back.
After a few moments of awkward silence, Darcy’s gaze darted to the door of the church before falling upon the dozen or so relations murmuring in the pews. His brow furrowed, and he said, “Bingley, I cannot help but notice the absence of your sisters and Hurst. I thought they had intended to be present today. I hope they are well.”
Bingley gave his friend a wink and said, “I suspect they are all in excellent health, though Caroline is, no doubt, mourning your loss, or rather, her own, with all the dignity and grace of a truly accomplished lady.”
Darcy shrugged. “No doubt.”
“To be honest,” Bingley continued, “you have Hurst to thank. He did not trust Caroline to hold her tongue and behave herself, and I must admit I cannot but share his opinion. He forbade them to attend today. Of course, Louisa cried and carried on, trying her utmost to change his mind, but he held firm, declaring that the future Mrs. Darcy deserved to celebrate her wedding day with those of her friends who sincerely wish to share in her happiness, not disparage her good name.”
A smile turned up the corners of Darcy’s mouth. “I cannot but agree, as well. I shall have to thank your brother-in-law properly when next we meet.” Properly, of course, meaning a case of the finest brandy from Pemberley’s cellars.
Their attention was then called to the door at the entrance to the church as it opened to admit Jane, who walked toward the altar with a serene smile. It was not difficult to ascertain the direction of Bingley’s thoughts as he watched her approach. By the expression on his face, Darcy expected he was, even at that moment, rethinking the length of his engagement.
It seemed like an eternity had passed before Elizabeth appeared, but when she finally began her slow promenade down the aisle on her father’s arm, Darcy’s breath caught, and he felt a distinct lump form in his throat. Never before had he seen her looking more lovely and more desirable than she was at that moment. She wore an exquisite gown made entirely of snowy white silk. Beautifully draped, the garment flowed to the short train trailing behind her. The cut was simple and sophisticated, and accentuated her curves. The flattering neckline showed her beauty to its full advantage without being too revealing. There was no ornamentation on the dress beyond some intricate embroidery and pearl beadwork along the bodice and hem of her gown. To Mrs. Bennet’s vexation, not a drop of lace was to be seen, but it needed no further embellishment. Adorning Elizabeth’s neck was a beautiful pearl and diamond necklace, a companion piece to her engagement ring. Her hair was swept up and arranged in an elegant style; her locks fastened in place by dozens of pearl hairpins of various sizes, all gleaming in the early morning light of the church. Matching pearl-drop earrings dangled from her ears, and rather than the traditional wedding bonnet, a long length of Belgian lace, procured by her Aunt Gardiner at her mother’s insistence, covered her head.
To Darcy, she looked like royalty. He could hardly contain the joy he felt knowing she was just moments away from becoming his wife. He forgot himself for a moment and started to go to her, but his eagerness was immediately checked by his uncle’s chuckle. Darcy flushed with heat, and when Elizabeth finally reached his side, he saw her eyes sparkling with amusement. As her father placed her hand in his, she gave him a breathtaking smile. Unable to resist her, Darcy returned it with a smile of his own and silently uttered a prayer of thanks for his excellent fortune at having found her.
The minister called them to attention by clearing his throat to begin the ceremony, and Darcy reluctantly released her hand. While Elizabeth seemingly made an effort to attend to everything the elderly gentleman said, Darcy found himself hard-pressed to focus his attention on anything beyond the beautiful woman before him. He was startled back to cognizance when he heard the minister say, “Fitzwilliam Darcy, wilt thou have this Woman to thy wedded Wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Darcy gazed at Elizabeth and, in a voice brimming with such intensity of feeling that it could not but move her, and many others, as well, replied, “I will.”
From the pew where she stood with her husband, Mrs. Bennet smirked with satisfaction. She was vastly pleased by the match her second-eldest daughter had made for herself. Darcy’s interest in Elizabeth had come as nothing short of a shock to her. That the refined and reticent master of Pemberley was not only drawn to, but actually seemed to prefer, the wild ways and wry wit of her least favorite daughter to the superior beauty and serene countenance of her eldest, was a concept Mrs. Bennet still found rather difficult to grasp. Watching now, however, as that same daughter stood at the altar, pledging her obedience to her wealthy bridegroom, she was forced to concede that Elizabeth looked every inch the mistress of Pemberley.
Indeed, Mr. Bennet had been reluctant to part with so many hundreds of pounds for her gown and trousseau, but, as far as Mrs. Bennet was concerned, it was money well spent, if for no reason other than to gloat over the approving looks and knowing smiles that graced the distinguished faces of certain members of the peerage who happened to be in attendance. In any case, no one could deny that Darcy was completely smitten with his bride, whose beauty on that day, her mother was forced to concede, rivaled that of her own dear Jane.
Elizabeth finished reciting her vows, and upon receiving an encouraging nod from the minister, Darcy took her left hand in his and placed the simple gold wedding band upon her finger, which announced to all who saw it that he and Elizabeth were now man and wife. As their eyes met, a warm, affectionate smile passed between them. Elizabeth looked radiant, and Darcy beamed with uncontainable happiness. They were married! Elizabeth was his wife! Never again would he have to part with her. She was his, now and forever. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to kiss her tempting lips and whisk her away to the ends of the earth, but the ceremony was not yet over.
Three-quarters of an hour later they were in Darcy’s coach and on their way back to Darcy House for the wedding breakfast. Elizabeth laid her head against his shoulder as they sat side by side, and a small, contented laugh escaped her lips. Darcy smiled as he held her hand tightly upon his lap, his gaze fixed upon the gleaming gold band she now wore on her left hand. Slowly, he turned his head to place a kiss upon her hair and murmured, “I take it you are well, Mrs. Darcy?”