Elizabeth glanced at Georgiana, who looked as if she were trying to smother a wicked grin. As she did not appear inclined to answer Elizabeth’s unspoken question, there was nothing to do but follow William out. Elizabeth checked the pin on her hat, pulled on her gloves, and stepped outside.
It was Richard, holding the door of a new motorcar and beaming like a lad with his favourite toy. “What do you think?” he called.
Georgiana squealed and raced down to him, nearly swinging by his neck as she embraced her cousin. Elizabeth came more slowly, meeting his eye more hesitantly. He made a gallant bow. “Your chariot awaits, milady.”
“Richard, where did you get this?” she marvelled. “You cannot take this to Wyoming.”
“Oh, I didn’t buy it. Truth be told, it belonged to… well, it was Bryson’s, and I ended up with it after they impounded his belongings. But don’t hold that against the car—it is a lark to drive, and should fetch a pretty price when I sell it.”
She laughed and accepted his hand up into the rear seat. Georgiana hopped nimbly into the front, and William sat down at Elizabeth’s side. “I thought he was meeting us at the pier,” she whispered.
“He was, but there was something here he did not want to miss.”
She frowned in puzzlement. “But Georgiana was coming to see us off. I do not—”
“Not Georgiana.” He reached into the breast pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small box. “Our wedding.”
“Our...” Her breath caught and stalled in her chest. Her lips formed the words, but she was shaking her head in disbelief. With some struggle, she cleared her throat. “You must be teasing me.”
“Not at all. It turns out that my residence here in Massachusetts is of sufficient duration to qualify us to marry in the state. Moreover, there was no waiting period, and I have no intention of purchasing a second cabin for our voyage to London.”
She huffed a surprised laugh and suddenly noticed that not only was the car still parked, but Richard and Georgiana were half-turned in the front seat, watching them. William opened the box.
“You gave this ring back to me before, and I have kept it close. Will you accept it again? Elizabeth Bennet, will you marry me today?”
This time, she did laugh as William tugged valiantly at her glove with a bit of playful incompetence until she took pity on him and removed it. He proudly slid the ring back into its rightful place, kissing it with an air of finality, and then pulling her close for a kiss of a different sort.
“Well, then,” Richard coughed as he turned around. “I think we had best drive off before they get carried away, don’t you, Georgie?”
The ceremony, as it were, was nearly as short as her last “wedding” had been. The justice of the peace requested signatures of their witnesses—Georgiana being just barely old enough to qualify—and a twenty-dollar fee for his services. He indicated a place for them to wait, then when all was ready, he stood.
“By your signatures of consent and in accord with the assembled witnesses, you have indicated your desire to be bound together as husband and wife. Do you solemnly swear to uphold one another in love and honour, forsaking all others, until death do you part?”
William turned slightly towards her and Elizabeth gazed up to him—but just beyond his shoulder, Richard leaned closer. Elizabeth met his eye, only for a moment. He nodded once, his mouth turning up. She looked back to William, and in one breath, they both said, “We do.”
“Then, by the powers vested in me by the state of Massachusetts, I pronounce you husband and wife. Sign here, please.”
And that was it. This time, the marriage was recorded and properly solemnised—for William asked three times to be certain. He captured her hand to lead her back outside, but then he was taken by a puerile urge such as she had never known him to possess. He twirled her about and then swept her up in his arms with a shout of triumph, carrying her laughing down the steps of the courthouse. Once outside, he set her down and kissed her, deeply and scandalously, right on the street for all to see.
“William!” Georgiana hissed. “Good heavens, she has ruined him already.”
“Oh, she has barely begun. You will not even know him when you go back home,” Richard chuckled. “Come, Darcy, leave off. Haven’t you got a ship to board?”
The Atlantic
Williamhadapparentlysparedno expense on their ticket. Elizabeth never knew that ship-board cabins could be so luxurious, and she marvelled for several minutes in helpless astonishment at the cabin’s many amenities and extravagances. William kept his distance until she turned around with an abashed smile for him. “I suppose the voyage will be comfortable enough. Surely, we did not need such a suite!”
“I beg to differ.” He slowly approached, holding out his hand for her to take. “I was hoping you would approve of it.”
She fingered the edge of his jacket, the rich brocade of his waistcoat. “I think there are few who could not approve.”
“Good, because I mean to keep you in here as much as you will tolerate.”
Elizabeth nodded seriously as her hands crept up his collar. “Do they bring meals directly to the cabins in first-class?”
“Indeed, they do.”
“And—” she was breathing softly on his lower lip now, her arms threaded round his neck— “will it be a fearsome scandal if we never appear on the passenger deck at all?”
