He laughed. “Do you not know how much you provoke me simply by being near me, looking at me, smiling at me?”
“I believe that I am being held to an impossible standard!” she teased.
“Leaving me in an impossible position, madam, which is why I favor making you my wife as soon as possible.”
She leaned back and met his eyes. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “Thursday, then?”
He smiled. “I believe that I can survive until then, given an adequate number of kisses to keep me going.”
“And what, pray tell, would be an adequate number, sir?”
He paused as if to consider, reveling in the sense of freedom and lightness that he experienced only in her arms. “I will tell you when you we get to it,” he said, suiting his actions to his words by recapturing her mouth. “But I hope you were not planning on getting home soon.”
Chapter 11
It was resolved between them that Darcy would approach the parson regarding performing the wedding, and Elizabeth would attend to the details of the actual ceremony. The burden of this was much reduced by Mrs. Gardiner, who, as soon as she heard of the revised plan, offered her services in organizing the event. “I shall quite enjoy it, my dear, and you are making it so very simple by keeping things quite small. We need no rehearsal, as we are all quite in practice on weddings, and I am certain that I will need only mention the prospect to your cook, as she is still so offended that Jane’s wedding breakfast is to be held at Netherfield that I am sure she will produce a veritable feast!”
Elizabeth was all gratitude for the assistance, for she had discovered to her chagrin that her early feelings of relief after scheduling the wedding were rapidly being superseded by mounting anxiety and uneasiness, though precisely about what she was not entirely certain. She found herself becoming almost uncivil, and developed a sudden sympathy with Mrs. Bennet’s fits of nerves. She began to feel the chief advantage of the changed wedding date was that it would be done with that much sooner, and was glad to escape from company when it finally came time to retire for the evening.
It was long past midnight when she awoke in panic from a nightmare. She was back at Hunsford with Darcy, only this time, she was the one confessing her love to him, and he was rejecting her in the strongest possible terms, stating his dislike, demeaning her very character, refusing to grant even the smallest degree of warmth. Her devastation was complete… She pressed her hand against her mouth, tears running down her face. It was only a dream, she told herself firmly, but she continued to tremble. She was not accustomed to allowing herself to be vulnerable to the opinions of others; although she had the facility for making friends easily, she could also part with them with much of the same ease, and her wit provided an easy defense against most forms of criticism. Nothing had prepared her for the deep-seated need she felt for Darcy’s affection, and it alarmed her.
She reached for a handkerchief to dry her tears, and as she raised it to her face, discovered it to be the long-cherished one of Darcy’s, reclaimed from its exile in her father’s desk, but never returned to its rightful owner. She found herself clutching it for comfort, much as she had in the days when she was most uncertain of his regard.
Hunsford… how could she ever have justified her behavior that day? She could see now he had come to her that day with this same sense of need and vulnerability, and she had completely failed to recognize it. He had even tried to express it in his own unfortunate way by telling her the great obstacles his feelings had to overcome before he could make her his offer, but his proud words about the inferiority of her own state and her connections blinded her to anything else.
Her words came back to haunt her—From the very beginning, from the first moment I may almost say, of my acquaintance with you, your manners impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the ground-work of disapprobation, on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry. She shuddered to think of the pain she must have caused him. With her newfound insight into the depths of her love for him, she recognized for the first time that, in addition to the misjudgment of him which she had long since acknowledged, she was also guilty of a great cruelty, with her only excuse being a lack of understanding for which she could no longer forgive herself.
And yet he had forgiven her, and even her pitiless words could not keep him from writing that memorable adieu in his letter the next day—I will only add, God bless you. He had changed his manners since then, but, as she had once noted to Wickham, he had never changed in the essentials—his fierce loyalties, his love for his family and his home, his disdain for any sort of deceit, his quick mind, his formidable standards for his own behavior. Love is certainly a humbling experience, she thought. I hope it becomes easier with time.
“Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together this Man and this Woman in holy matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man’s innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt Christ and his Church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with his presence, and first miracle that he wrought, in Cana of Galilee; and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men: and therefore is not by any to be enterprised, nor taken in hand, unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men’s carnal lusts and appetites, like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained.”
The familiar words of the wedding service washed over Elizabeth as she stood next to Jane, who was as radiant as any bride could be. She was fully determined to enjoy the occasion, regardless of her earlier frame of mind. She tried to listen thoughtfully, contemplating her own state, but her thoughts kept slipping away. For once she could not blame Darcy for her inattentiveness, since he, for the most part, was looking at no object but the ground. A slight smile of affection came to her lips as she watched him; she knew how greatly he had been dreading standing up in front of this great crowd of people, and she took no offense at his withdrawn behavior, but only wished she could send some comfort to him from across the aisle. Even as she thought this, he raised his eyes to her.
“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 other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”
Bingley’s firm response, “I will,” echoed throughout the church.
Elizabeth’s gaze remained caught by Darcy’s as Jane’s turn came.
“Wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”
“I will,” responded Jane in a tremulous voice.
Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat as she thought of saying those same words the following day, and all they implied. Darcy’s steadfast gaze comforted her, reminding her he would be with her, and that their separations were coming to an end. She lost herself in contemplation of their future, nearly missing her cues in the ceremony, and was glad when she could finally take Darcy’s arm to follow Jane and Bingley from the altar.