Chapter 22

The Wedding

E lizabeth’s heart fluttered with a mixture of nerves and excitement as she finished dressing for the ceremony. The light pink dress she wore fit perfectly, its delicate silver embroidery catching the light as she moved. It would be the perfect complement to the waist coat Darcy had promised to wear.

As she adjusted the folds of her dress, there was a soft knock at the door. Suzy hurried over to answer it. When she returned, she held a small velvet bag in her hands, her eyes wide with excitement.

“Mr. Darcy’s valet delivered this for you.” Suzy’s voice was filled with curiosity.

Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat as she untied the delicate ribbon. Inside, nestled against the dark velvet, was the most exquisite set of pink sapphires she had ever seen, all perfectly matching the shade of her gown.

“Oh my,” she whispered.

Her mother stepped closer, a knowing smile on her lips. “It seems Mr. Darcy has an excellent eye for such things,” she said gently. “And perhaps he was also inspired by the color of your blushes.” She touched her finger to Elizabeth’s pink cheek. Elizabeth felt her face warm even further at the suggestion.

With her mother’s help, Elizabeth put on the jewelry. She took one last look in the mirror to admire the effect the jewels had on her appearance.

“Lizzy, are you ready?” Suzy stood by the door, holding Elizabeth’s bouquet.

Elizabeth smiled, smoothing down the front of her dress. “To be Mrs. Darcy? Yes, I am quite ready for that.”

Suzy kissed her friend’s cheek before she handed her the bouquet. “You look absolutely stunning, Lizzy. Mr. Darcy will be speechless.”

Elizabeth blushed slightly at the thought. “I just hope I do not trip on the way down the stairs.”

Suzy laughed and took her hand. “You will be perfect, as always. Come, everyone is waiting.”

Mrs. Gardiner and Suzy made their way to the top of the staircase, followed soon after by Elizabeth. When Elizabeth looked down, her breath caught in her throat. The party had gathered below, but at the bottom of the stairs, standing tall and handsome in his finely tailored jacket, was Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth’s eyes locked onto his, and in that moment, the world fell away. Mr. Darcy’s gaze was so intense it set her heart aflutter. His eyes never left hers as she descended the stairs. The warmth that spread through her at his unwavering attention made her forget the others. It was just the two of them.

As she reached the last step, he stepped forward, his hand outstretched to help her down the final distance. “Elizabeth,” he murmured, his voice filled with emotion as he opened his hand to reveal a dainty blue sapphire ring, its design intricate and feminine. “This belonged to my great-grandmother. Of everything in the Darcy jewelry safe, I thought this one would best suit you. The color reminds me of your eyes.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught as she looked at the ring, the sapphire glinting in the light. “I…” Words caught in her throat.

Suddenly nervous, he said, “If you prefer something different for your betrothal ring, we can choose another one when we return to London.”

“It is beautiful, Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Relieved, Mr. Darcy took her hand and gently slid the ring onto her finger. He looked up at her, his eyes shining with love. “You are beautiful,” he said softly.

She leaned in, momentarily forgetting their audience. When she pulled back, Georgiana darted forward. “Oh, Elizabeth, you look so beautiful!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around Elizabeth in a tight hug.

The suddenness of Georgiana’s embrace took Elizabeth by surprise, and she laughed softly as she returned the hug. “Thank you, Georgiana. You look lovely as well.”

Georgiana’s joy was contagious, and soon everyone around them was laughing, including Mr. Darcy, though his laugh was tinged with the slightest bit of frustration. He had clearly been about to embrace her himself, but his younger sister had beaten him to it. “Georgiana, must you always be so eager?” he teased.

Georgiana stepped back, grinning unabashedly. “I could not help myself, brother. You will just have to wait your turn.”

He took Elizabeth’s hand once more, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles. “I suppose I will,” he said, his voice deepening with a hint of anticipation that sent a shiver down Elizabeth’s spine.

“Shall we proceed?” Mr. Gardiner offered his arm to Elizabeth.

The guests moved toward the drawing room, which had been transformed to resemble a small chapel for the occasion. While everyone found their place, Mr. Gardiner stood with Elizabeth in the entryway. He cupped her beloved face in his hands. “You have been my greatest joy, Elizabeth. The day I took you home with me was the day I learned to live.” He kissed her cheek. “I will miss you, my girl.”

Elizabeth wiped at a threatening tear. “Papa, I cannot know what my life would have been had my parents lived, but I could not have loved my birth father any more than I have loved you.”

“Your father would have adored the woman you have grown up to be. I think I did his honor credible justice in the raising of you.” Mr. Gardiner dabbed his own eyes which were suspiciously wet. “Shall we?”

Though their sentimental conversation had brought tears to her eyes, Elizabeth’s face glowed with joy as her father escorted her down the aisle. The room was filled with the scent of flowers from the earl’s hothouse, but Elizabeth could hardly focus on anything but the man standing before her. His smile broadened as she walked toward him, revealing a deep dimple. That is my dimple, she thought. He only shows it for me.

Soon, her father placed her hand in Mr. Darcy’s. The minister spoke about love and a couple’s duty to grow their family, but Elizabeth heard none of it. She was far too focused on the man beside her. Suzy quietly prompted her to repeat her vows, earning a chuckle from the assembled group. She offered an apologetic smile to the parson, before repeating the words. When it was Mr. Darcy’s turn, he spoke in a voice laced with reverence, sending Elizabeth’s heart racing.

Finally, the parson pronounced them husband and wife, and Mr. Darcy wasted no time in pulling Elizabeth into his arms. “You are mine now, Elizabeth,” his voice a low murmur that only she could hear. “And I am yours. Forever.” Elizabeth’s heart skipped a beat at his words.

She took her husband’s arm and allowed him to escort her out. Colonel Fitzwilliam and Suzy followed. The trailing pair exchanged a look so full of understanding that everyone in the assembled group immediately understood its meaning. A slow, knowing smile spread across Lady Matlock’s face. “Perhaps there will be another wedding soon,” she whispered to her husband.

“I believe they think it is a secret.” The two tittered quietly at the folly of their youngest son and his soon-to-be bride.

∞∞∞

Darcy led Elizabeth into the library for a moment of privacy before the wedding supper. He gently closed the door behind him. “Alone at last, Mrs. Darcy.” The soft glow of the firelight danced across Elizabeth’s features, highlighting the delicate pink of her lips—a color that had only deepened since their last kiss. Darcy could not resist pulling her into his arms once more, his lips finding hers.

She responded eagerly, her arms encircling his neck and her fingers curling into his hair as their kiss deepened. When they finally broke apart, both were breathless, their hearts pounding in unison. Elizabeth’s mouth was swollen from the intensity of their kisses, and Darcy could not help but smile at the sight.

“I regret that we must join the others for supper,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire. “But I cannot help but admire the color of your lips, my love. It was that very shade that inspired the jewels I bought for you.” He fingered the necklace at the base of her neck.

Elizabeth giggled softly, her eyes sparkling with affection. “And it was the color of my blushes—those that you inspire—that led me to choose this fabric.”

Darcy’s eyes darkened with a mixture of curiosity and teasing intent. “I have often wondered about those blushes, Elizabeth,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur. “Do they extend below your neckline?” Instantly he regretted his comment. She was a maiden and, as such, was far too innocent for his innuendo.

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink at his bold question, her innocence battling with the newfound thrill of their intimacy. “Fitzwilliam,” she whispered. A sudden boldness prompted her to add, “You shall have to wait and see.”

Darcy’s heartbeat quickened at her response. “Then I look forward to that discovery, my love.” He leaned in to brush a tender kiss against her forehead.

They shared another kiss before reluctantly parting. “I suppose we should join everyone for supper.” He pouted, which made Elizabeth laugh.

He offered his arm, and together they made their way to the dining room. When they entered, a rousing round of applause greeted them.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Darcy,” Richard called, raising his glass.

“To Mr. and Mrs. Darcy!”

Darcy could not prevent the smile the spread across his face, or the feeling of pride he felt when he seated himself beside her at the table. He moved his chair closer than was strictly appropriate, causing his uncle and cousin to snicker. Darcy did not mind. The arrangement allowed him to continue his private connection with his bride, even in the midst of gathered company.

Ever the gentleman, Darcy served Elizabeth first, his hand brushing hers as he did so. Under the table, his hand found its way to her thigh, resting there with a casual possessiveness that sent a fresh wave of blushes to her cheeks.

Darcy’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. In a voice barely above a whisper he teased. “There is that lovely blush again.” His thumb rubbed gentle circles on her leg.

Elizabeth bit her lip, her pulse quickening at his touch. “Fitzwilliam, you must stop. My father is looking at us.” That had a sobering effect, and Darcy immediately removed his hand from her knee. He looked down the table toward Mr. Gardiner who sat in happy conversation with his uncle. Elizabeth giggled.

“Sprite,” he laughed before tapping her on the nose. “You will pay for that… later.” Elizabeth swallowed, and Darcy felt pride in knowing that he had disconcerted her, confident that her passion for him mirrored his own.

The food was delicious but neither of them paid much attention to the fare. Their minds were occupied with thoughts of one another, their hands occasionally brushed under the table, sending little shocks of pleasure through them both. Elizabeth’s blushes, which Darcy had so admired, seemed to be a constant companion throughout the meal, much to his delight.

“I do believe I am becoming addicted to your blushes, my dear. They are the most exquisite shade of pink, and I find myself wanting to see them again and again.”

He was thrilled when his bold wife replied. “And I find that I am becoming rather fond of the way you make me blush.”