“She is not. Are you sure it is Lady Catherine who is causing your sister’s anxiety and not my cousin?”
“I heard a good bit about Miss de Bourgh as well. I am keen to meet her.”
He made a noise that suggested disgust, which made her laugh.
“How many days until we are married?” he asked.
She inched closer to him. “Only six.”
“Only? That is almost a week!” He purposely exaggerated his whine to amuse her.
“It is less than a week, and you already knew the answer, so none of that, if you please. The time will pass quickly, and then you, Jane, Miss Darcy, and I shall be on our way north.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes, both silently expressing their love and desire to be together. They continued this way until interrupted by Mrs Collins and Miss Lydia, who had what they considered a vital question about fashion to ask Elizabeth.
CHAPTERSIXTY-ONE
It seemed to Elizabeth that she went to bed one night with there being almost a full week until her wedding to waking up to find that the day had arrived. The occasion was everything she dreamt it would be. Gentle snow was falling, making the outdoors delightfully picturesque without there being enough to inhibit travel. Nevertheless, she said a silent prayer that it would stop before the morrow when they would leave for Derbyshire. Darcy had proposed they spend the wedding night at Purvis Lodge rather than depart that afternoon, and she had agreed. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley would stay at Longbourn, and Mr Reed planned to return to London after the wedding breakfast.
Elizabeth was very much looking forward to being alone with her husband. They had been so busy with their families and friends, it seemed they had only exchanged a few words here and there over the last several days. About what would inevitably follow that night, she was nervous, as any lady would be, but by no means hesitant.
The carriage would first take Mrs Bennet, the Collinses, Mary, and Lydia to the church, then return for Jane—Elizabeth’s lone bridesmaid—Mr Bennet, and her. Elizabeth hugged each of her relations before they left. Mrs Bennet’s eyes were full of tears, which she brushed away impatiently.
“All these weddings and revelations of people who appear so charming but are really villains in disguise have been too much for my nerves. I am very happy to have another daughter married. It is my duty as your mother to see you girls well settled. It is a day to be cheerful, not crying. Mary, Lydia, I expect you to be on your best behaviour this next half year. No intrigues, no secrets—nothing that might irritate me!” Mrs Bennet insisted.
Mary sighed, and Lydia managed to hold her tongue, thus displaying a touch of unexpected maturity.
“I believe we can trust Lydia to spare us even a moment of disquiet, but Mary, I am not so certain of her.” Mr Bennet chuckled and winked at Mary, before kissing his wife’s cheek. “You have earned some peace and quiet, my dear, and I shall see you have it.”
* * *
When she entered the church, Elizabeth’s eyes immediately sought out Darcy. He stood tall and strong, and as she approached, she saw that his waistcoat was ivory, matching the colour of her gown by design or coincidence. His smile grew in width the more she closed the distance between them.
What followed was the usual. Words were exchanged—Elizabeth could not remember them exactly, but assumed they went through the common marriage ceremony—and they left the church to the cries of congratulations and good fortune. Elizabeth and Darcy dashed into the carriage.
As soon as the door was closed, he said, “Good morning,” and Elizabeth guffawed, the statement seeming so incongruous, given they had just been married.
“Good morning to you, too, my dear sir.”
They said nothing for a long moment as the carriage began to move. Instead, they sat, facing each other, their eyes roaming over the person with whom they had just promised to share their life.
“You are my wife. I can hardly believe it,” Darcy said at length.
“Neither can I.” Elizabeth dropped her bouquet onto the seat beside her and rested both hands on Darcy’s strong arms. “I am so very, very happy.”
He nodded, and when Elizabeth moved her head towards him, he reciprocated. Their lips touched, their arms encircled the other, and they did not break apart until they arrived at Longbourn.
* * *
For Darcy, it was impossible to name his favourite moment from his wedding and the days that followed. It might be seeing Elizabeth enter the church, exchanging the words that bound them together forever, holding her in his arms for the first time as husband and wife, or celebrating their union with their dearest family—though he did miss the Romsleys and Bramwell and thought it would be agreeable to have Lady Catherine and the Gardiners there, along with more of his father’s people. Or perhaps Darcy might choose taking Elizabeth to Purvis Lodge, and her eagerness when they retired that night, despite her evident nerves, and hearing her repeat ‘I love you’ over and over again, her voice breathless.
There were less-personal moments that would also remain with him as treasured memories, such as the look of delight on her face when she first saw Pemberley. For all that she was a happy person before they were married, it was nothing compared to what he saw in her once she was Mrs Darcy. She radiated deep contentment and outright joy more often than not. She walked about the manor with a smile on her lips, always ready to spring into a grin; her eyes shone, and her steps were light. Georgiana responded by becoming more open with him, Elizabeth, and Miss Bennet, who insisted he call her Jane. By the time he and Elizabeth commemorated their first month of marriage, Jane’s mood had improved markedly. Darcy mentioned it to Elizabeth while they ate dinner in their apartment, leaving their sisters to entertain each other for the evening.
“I believe you are correct. Knowing Mr and Miss Bingley for what they truly are has made it easier for her to stop regretting him. She has decided she could not truly have had tender feelings for him, because she never really knew him. Now, she is left with being extremely grateful she did not end up married to him.”
“We can all thank God for that.”
“Are we going to continue talking about our sisters, or perhaps we should discuss the spring planting? I would prefer speaking of the two of us. Tell me, my darling husband, are you satisfied with your decision to return to Hertfordshire in January?”
