Mrs. Bennet’s hand found his, their fingers intertwining. “I missed you terribly, Thomas. I did not realize how much of my daily happiness depended upon simply knowing you were near until you were so far away.”
The honest confession thrilled Elizabeth.
“Mama, Mr. Darcy offered marriage, and I have accepted.” She inhaled deeply before continuing, “We plan to wed in London on Wednesday along with his cousin and his betrothed.”
Mrs. Bennet immediately wrapped Elizabeth in a warm embrace. “I knew you could not be so intelligent for nothing.”
But then the second part of Elizabeth’s announcement registered. “Wednesday! That allows no time for proper arrangements.”
“It allows exactly the right amount of time for whatwe desire?a simple ceremony with the people who matter most.”
Darcy added, “I will ask my aunt, Lady Helen Fitzwilliam, the Countess of Matlock, to host the wedding breakfast at her house on Grosvenor Square.”
“A countess?” Her mother’s mouth gaped open. But instead of launching into concerns and demands, she gathered herself and slowly nodded her acceptance. “If a wedding that soon is what will make you happy, Lizzy, we shall manage.”
Less than a week later,Darcy stood beside Richard at the altar of St. George’s Church in Hanover Square. London’s morning fog was retreating, and shafts of sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows.
“See the way that light glows? Reminds me of Mediterranean sunsets,” Richard whispered.
Before Darcy could reply, the church doors opened to a sight that nearly brought Darcy to his knees. Elizabeth was moving toward him on her father’s arm with serene grace, her gown of pearlescent cream silk seemingly glowing from within. The coral cameo at her throat caught Darcy’s eye. Her beauty robbed him of breath.
His grandmother’s gold and diamond wedding band rested heavily in his waistcoat pocket. He was impatient for it to grace his bride’s finger.
Behind her, Mrs. Bell walked with quiet dignity on Captain Morrison’s arm.
When the time came for vows, Richard failed to speak. The rector repeated himself twice, grinning witheach attempt until the groom answered successfully. Mrs. Bell smiled at her betrothed and had no such difficulty when pledging her troth to him.
Darcy’s turn arrived. He looked at Elizabeth, and his rehearsed words dissolved. After a short pause, he regained himself, the sureness of his conviction heard from one end of the chapel to the other.
Elizabeth’s clear voice rang out, speaking her vows with sincerity that moved Darcy beyond words.
The clergyman did not get the opportunity to introduce the married couples to those gathered. Richard impulsively pulled his new wife into his arms and kissed her soundly before the announcement could be made. The family gasped and then laughed. Darcy followed suit, tasting Elizabeth’s lips in their first kiss as husband and wife.
The wedding breakfast at Matlock House passed in a blur. The instant the final toasts had ended, Darcy rose.
“Ladies and gentlemen, my wife and I thank you for sharing this perfect day. But if you will please excuse us…”
The couple ran hand in hand across the square like escaped children. They had no thought of waiting for the carriage. Once they reached Darcy House, Darcy swept Elizabeth in his arms and carried his bride inside. The servants discreetly closed the doors behind them. For the next fortnight, the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were seen by no one save their most trusted servants.
Thus began a lifetime of happiness together.
EPILOGUE
Four Years Later
Elizabeth settled onto the stone bench beneath Pemberley’s ancient oak, her smile grew as her son and daughters toddled through the garden. Bennet Darcy, the mirror image of his father, was three years old. Emily Rose, with her father’s dark hair and seriousness examined each flower as if cataloging them. Olivia Anne, Emily’s two-year-old twin, blessed with Elizabeth’s lighter brown curls and mischievous spirit, seemed intent on plucking every interesting petal within reach and stuffing them into her mouth.
“Mama, look!” Emily called, holding up a fallen leaf with reverence.
“Beautiful, my darling,” Elizabeth replied, the sound of a carriage drawing her attention toward the front of the house. She anticipated the Bingley family’s arrival with her parents. When the carriage door opened, Elizabeth’s mouth gaped open with shocked recognition.
The man who stepped down was unmistakablyRichard Fitzwilliam, though his skin was bronzed to a deep tan, a testament to years under foreign sun. Behind him came Prudence, equally sun-kissed and radiant. She lifted a sturdy toddler whose bright eyes and determined chin proclaimed him a Fitzwilliam.
“Richard! Prudence!” Elizabeth abandoned all pretense of dignified surprise, rushing toward them with outstretched arms. “We had no idea you were back in England.”
Darcy emerged from the house. His look of polite inquiry gave way to stunned joy. “Good heavens, Richard. When did you arrive? How long have you been back?”
“We docked in London six days ago. We spent yesterday with my parents at Matlock, where we learned about Georgiana’s upcoming nuptials. We decided that surprising you would be infinitely more entertaining than sending advance notice.”
