Mrs. Hill exclaimed, “Gracious, no! Not until after the ceremony! Then you may ride in as many of Mr. Darcy’s fancy carriages as you like.” She crossed the room to close the window, a sad look flickering in hereyes. “Last time I shall have to do that for a long time.”
“I will tell Lydia. I have it on good authority she plans on moving her things into here this same afternoon.”
The prospect cheered Mrs. Hill, and just in time for Mama to clap her hands in the hall. “Mr. Bennet, girls, let us not delay a second longer.”
Elizabeth had been ready the better part of an hour, her stomach full of butterflies both anticipating her second wedding day and already wishing it was over so she could finally be Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy.
Which reminded her…
Running over to her pillow, Elizabeth slipped the signature-filled paper from under the cover and tucked her sentimental memento in a bandbox set on top of the trunks she would next see at Darcy House in London.
Papa and Mama waited outside the entrance, their arms held out to her. Kitty, Lydia and Mary, who offered to carry Elizabeth’s slippers, walked behind them like sentinels.
“We are taking no chances today,” Mama explained. “I do not intend to release my hold, nor will your father, until we can hand you directly to Mr. Darcy.”
Thankfully, their jaunt to the church was uneventful. Nary a twisted ankle.
Sliding out of her half-boots and into her slippers, Elizabeth watched as Lydia flounced inside the building,enjoying the surprised exclamations of those who had not yet heard of her miraculous revival. Of Wickham’s fate, Elizabeth gave no consideration. Not on this day.
Today was a special gift, one of those rare days when dreams came to life, and Elizabeth would soak in every joyous moment to remember always.
True to their word, her parents did not release their hold on her arms, which was as well, for she was not prepared for the sight awaiting her when Kitty opened the double doors. Packed pews and hordes of happy faces. Faces Elizabeth did not recognize, but who she knew must belong to Fitzwilliam’s side of the family. So many of them.
Elizabeth smiled when she saw Georgiana sitting by a stylish older couple who nodded their approval.
Lady Catherine sat beside the gentleman with Captain Gibbs on her other side, looking unhappy but subdued between the large gentlemen. She would cause no trouble.
Elizabeth’s eyes teared. She had not realized how badly she wished for Fitzwilliam’s family to celebrate their union, to welcome her into their family, until she saw them giving visible and irrefutable evidence of their support and acceptance.
It was perfect. And when Fitzwilliam vowed to love her, comfort her, honor and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep only to her, so long they both shall live, Elizabeth trusted he wouldkeep his word as he had kept every other promise. As she would.
She was — at long last! — Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy.
Heart so full, her eyes blurred, she felt Fitzwilliam tug gently on her finger. “Look, please,” he whispered to her.
Elizabeth looked down at her hand, and the tears flowed freely, spilling over her smiling lips. The gold and garnet ring Fitzwilliam had slipped on her finger was a forget-me-not.
EPILOGUE
Darcy handed his horse to the stable boy, relieved to return home after a long day with his steward. A quick wash, then he would find Elizabeth.
The butler met him at the door with a letter in his hand and a knowing smile.
It would be another Love, Lizzy note. Perkins never looked so pleased to deliver any other correspondence but the precious missives he delivered from Darcy’s wife.
Carefully unfolding the paper, Darcy read:
I may be foundin my sitting room penning hundreds of Thank-You notes at my writing desk … in case you wanted to find me.
Love,
Lizzy
Her “L”sswooped over the page, swirling upward in smiling flourishes. Much like their author, who smiled often and flirted relentlessly with her adoring husband.
His bath could wait a moment longer. He needed to see her.
Elizabeth sat with her back to the door, facing the window. Sunlight shimmered against her hair. Darcy’s breath caught in his throat. He had dreamed of Elizabeth so long, there were times he still, after a month of marriage, believed she was a vision.
