Chapter 13

A nother two days passed in quiet anticipation before the special license, graciously expedited by the Archbishop of London, was granted. It was delivered by express to Sir William Lucas, who handed it over to Mr. Darcy discreetly.

The day after Lady Catherine de Bourgh visit, Darcy made a solitary call to Longbourn, intent on seeing Elizabeth. However, their interaction was sparse and formal, with Elizabeth offering little more than polite greetings and one-sentence responses to his inquiries. Darcy, sensing her reluctance, endeavoured to be patient, though his own thoughts were a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

In one of these rare conversations, Darcy insisted that it was best for the wedding to be held in Meryton. He argued, with his customary decisiveness, that such a public ceremony would effectively dispel all rumours against Elizabeth, restoring her honour and that of her sisters. Holding the wedding elsewhere, he pointed out, might only give rise to new suspicions as to why it had been necessary to remove the ceremony from the watchful eyes of the town. Elizabeth could not disagree with the logic of his argument, though it did little to alleviate her unease. They didn't speak of the letter or why Elizabeth had yet replied to it.

The Gardiners also arrived in due course on the second day, their presence soon becoming a source of comfort to Elizabeth, though she could not entirely escape the dread that lingered in her heart.

On the sixth day, Elizabeth considered writing a response to Mr. Darcy's letter. But each time she took up her pen, her resolve faltered. The visit from Lady Catherine de Bourgh had only served to strengthen her determination to guard her heart. The Lady's assertions that Darcy had been betrothed to her daughter for years weighed heavily on Elizabeth's mind. Darcy had apologized for Lady Catherine de Bourgh's disrespect, but he had not mentioned the rumored betrothal to Anne. If Mr. Darcy were truly an honourable man, she reasoned, how could he so easily dismiss such an engagement simply to save face? Yet, Elizabeth also harbored doubts about the truth of Lady Catherine's claims. The woman's pride was evident, and her character did not inspire confidence or trust in her words. Still, Elizabeth kept these thoughts to herself, not wishing to burden her family further, particularly as her sisters had become overly attentive. Their attempts to please her—though annoying—were tinged with an understanding of the sacrifice she was making. It was the evening of the seventh day after Darcy's forced proposal that the license arrived and the wedding was set.

Mrs. Bennet, however, was far from subdued in all these. She threw herself into the wedding preparations with a fervour that bordered on frenzy. She fretted over the details of Elizabeth's gown, insisted on reviewing the guest list for the wedding luncheon, and generally behaved as though the union were the most natural and desirable outcome imaginable.

The day of the wedding dawned with a surprising brilliance. Elizabeth, dressed in a gown of soft lavender, found herself walking down the aisle of the small church, her arm linked with her father's. She tried to still herself, but the thought that she was about to become Mrs. Darcy filled her with a mixture of dread and disbelief.

As she approached the altar, she cast her eyes over the assembled guests, trying to make out familiar faces. There was Charlotte Lucas with her family, the Kings, the Longs, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. Bingley with his sisters, though Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst looked as if they had been dragged to the ceremony against their will. Kitty and Lydia exchanged sheepish giggles as Elizabeth passed by them, while Mary managed only a thin, restrained smile, sitting calmly beside Mrs. Bennet. But it was the younger lady seated beside a man who bore a striking resemblance to Mr. Darcy that caught Elizabeth's attention. The lady smiled warmly at her as she arrived, and Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder who she might be.

Bingley stood as Darcy's best man, while Jane stood as Elizabeth's maid of honour. Elizabeth was relieved not to see Lady Catherine among the congregation, though Mr. Collins's sour expression suggested that he was channelling the Lady's disapproval.

The ceremony was brief, with Elizabeth reciting her vows as she had been instructed, her voice steady but devoid of any real emotion. When Mr. Darcy took her hand for the exchange of rings, Elizabeth could not suppress the bitter taste that rose in her throat. The pronouncement of their union as husband and wife seemed to echo in her mind with a hollow finality, causing her legs to wobble slightly, though she managed to maintain her composure.

As they made their way out of the church, the man with the striking resemblance to Darcy approached, accompanied by the young lady who had smiled at Elizabeth earlier. Darcy introduced them as Colonel Fitzwilliam, his cousin, and Georgiana Darcy, his sister. They had arrived in Hertfordshire a day before the wedding.

The Colonel's affable demeanour and Georgiana's sweet, shy nature were a surprising contrast to the impression Elizabeth had formed of the Darcy family. To even think Mr. Darcy had a sister who looked so fragile, so innocent, made her pause in disbelief. It was difficult to reconcile the image of this gentle, almost timid young woman with the austere and prideful man she had come to know, or the haughty Lady Catherine, whose manner was nothing short of imperious. Elizabeth could scarcely believe that such a sweet-looking person could belong to the same lineage.

The wedding luncheon was held at Longbourn, with everyone in attendance. Though Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst soon made their excuses and left, Mr. Hurst remained, although he was clearly more interested in the fine food and wine than in the social proprieties. Jane sat beside Mr. Bingley, their quiet conversation punctuated by smiles and shared glances.

Elizabeth, on the other hand, sat beside Mr. Darcy and soon found herself in the rather unsettling position of a new bride with scarcely a word to say to her husband. His countenance, reserved and inscrutable, offered little encouragement for her to feign either happiness or contentment. The silence between them weighed heavily, with each moment spent accentuating the awkwardness of their newly forged bond. However, a measure of solace came from Georgiana, who was seated on Elizabeth's other side. With genuine warmth, she introduced herself again, expressing her delight at having gained Elizabeth as a sister. Though still guarded, Elizabeth could not help but be moved by Georgiana's sweetness.

When Georgiana, with an innocent curiosity, inquired about how she and Mr. Darcy had first met, Elizabeth felt a pang of unease. It was a question she had not prepared herself to answer. She managed a polite evasion, promising to recount the tale at a later time, when they were more settled. Georgiana, satisfied with this response, smiled with such sincerity that Elizabeth felt a brief, yet welcome, respite from her inner turmoil.

As the afternoon wore on, Elizabeth found herself torn between the conflicting emotions of duty and desire. The wedding, though outwardly perfect, had left her with a sense of unease that she could not shake. As she looked around at the gathered guests, she wondered what her future would hold now that she was Mrs. Darcy.

An hour and a half after the luncheon began, guests began taking their leave. Jane and Mrs. Bennet had helped Elizabeth pack her bags the day before, so when Mr. Darcy announced that it was time for them to depart for Derbyshire, as he had mentioned during his visit before the wedding, Elizabeth excused herself to fetch her belongings.

As she made her way upstairs, Mr. Bennet appeared at the top of the staircase and gently took her by the hand, leading her into his study. Once inside, he drew her into a warm embrace. "I am sorry, my dear Lizzy, that things have turned out this way," he said, his voice marred with regret. "But I must ask that you give Mr. Darcy a chance. Perhaps, in time, you will come to understand the man he truly is. He may surprise you yet."

Elizabeth nodded, her throat tight with emotion.

"And remember," Mr. Bennet continued, "if Mr. Darcy should ever treat you awkwardly, you have your aunt and uncle in London to turn to. And of course, Longbourn will always be your home as long as I am alive. The scandal of a divorce is subtler than the stain of unladylike behaviour."

Elizabeth smiled faintly, blinking away the moisture that had gathered in her eyes. "Thank you, Papa," she whispered, hugging him tightly before stepping back.

She then made her way to her sisters, who were gathered in the hallway. She embraced each of them in turn, and Lydia, bubbling in high spirits, exclaimed, "We shall look forward to visiting Pemberley! I hear it is the most magnificent estate."

Kitty nodded eagerly in agreement, adding, "Yes, you must invite us, Lizzy!"

Elizabeth chuckled softly, promising that they would indeed be welcome at Pemberley.

After bidding farewell to her family, Jane and Mrs. Bennet assisted her with her luggage, carrying it out to the waiting carriage. With final hugs and goodbyes exchanged, Elizabeth climbed into the carriage, joining Mr. Darcy, Georgiana, and Colonel Fitzwilliam. As they prepared to depart, Bingley and the remaining guests waved them off, and the carriage set off on its journey to Derbyshire, leaving Meryton behind.