Chapter 26

Monday, 30 th December

Meryton Church

Darcy swallowed the lump in his throat, born of anticipation and excitement, and swept his gaze across the church in search of a distraction. The hall was little changed from Bingley’s wedding ten days ago, save that now a profusion of greenery decorated pews and nave and altar, provided for Christmas by Mrs. Allen. Two wreaths hung near the front of the church, scenting the air pleasantly.

The pews were less full, this time, and Darcy was just as glad. Miss Bingley had departed for London at the remarkably early hour of nine o’clock, citing her partially healed ankle and her eagerness to consult with a London physician. Darcy had not been sorry to see her go; not surprisingly, she had made little effort to hide her displeasure at his upcoming nuptials. Nor would he miss the Hursts, who had accompanied Miss Bingley to Town. Louisa was not as intolerable as her sister, but Darcy far preferred the idea of the newly married couples having Netherfield to themselves. Well, Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley would also be in residence, but his sister had assured Darcy that she would not be lonely if the newly wed Darcys chose to spend most of their time in their chambers. He had tried not to blush at these words and could only hope that he succeeded.

The Bennet ladies were present in the Longbourn pew, of course, their faces shining with pleasure. Darcy hoped that his new mother-in-law would not faint with the force of her glee, but he was far from certain of this. Georgiana sat across the aisle, glowing with joy and beaming enthusiastically. The Lucases were also present, and while Lady Lucas’s smile appeared a trifle forced, Charlotte Lucas, soon to be Charlotte Collins, seemed genuinely delighted for her friend Elizabeth.

Richard Fitzwilliam sat with the Lucases and winked as he caught Darcy’s eye. Darcy grinned back, pleased that his cousin had received the hasty and surreptitious express. He suspected that Richard appreciated Darcy’s plan to marry in haste, thus ending the tantrums of their mutual aunt.

Darcy turned and glanced back at Bingley. His dear friend, serving as best man, gave him an encouraging nod. Bingley was pleased for him, of course, but there was also an underlying joy and contentment on the younger man’s face. It had appeared the day of his own wedding as a blazing light before smoldering down into something quiet and enduring, and Darcy knew well it was Charles’s adoration of Jane.

The door to the back of the sanctuary opened at last, and Darcy watched eagerly as Elizabeth stepped into the great room on her father’s arm and began the march down the aisle, with Jane Bingley walking behind them as matron of honor.

She was glorious, his Elizabeth, dressed in soft green, with an ivory overdress. Her chestnut curls peeped out from under her straw hat, which was decorated, rather whimsically, with two short peacock feathers. He knew, because Georgiana had told him that the local dressmaker worked frantically to finish the dress for the wedding, and that the Bennet ladies had even done a little work Saturday evening to add some embroidery to the sleeves and hem.

She smiled at him, and he beamed at her, as Mr. Bennet carefully transferred her hand to Darcy’s arm. The young couple turned toward Mr. Allen, who said, “Dearly beloved, we have come together in the presence of God to witness and bless the joining together of this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony…”

/

Dining Room

Matlock House

Later

Lord Matlock surreptitiously glanced at his watch and sighed inwardly. Dinner was generally a drawn-out affair at Matlock House, and he usually enjoyed it as he liked conversing with his wife, children, and miscellaneous guests. This dinner, however, could not end soon enough.

“Something must be done,” Lady Catherine declared, attacking her piece of beef with the grim ferocity of a bear tearing apart a hapless deer. “By honor Darcy is committed to Anne.”

Lord Matlock was very close to throwing his sister out of his house, though the societal repercussions for such an extreme response were daunting.

“Catherine,” he said grimly, “we have discussed this ad infinitum. You have no power over Darcy, and…”

The door opened, and Colonel Fitzwilliam strode into the room with a jaunty step and a merry eye. “Good evening, everyone. I do apologize for being late to dinner.”

“You ought to apologize,” Lady Catherine said angrily. “It is the height of incivility to be late to your own father’s table.”

“Again, my sincere regrets,” Richard said in an overly formal tone and bowed slightly to his father and mother before taking a seat across from his sister Rachel. “I returned to London only a few minutes ago.”

“Where were you, my dear?” Lady Matlock asked, eager to head off another bout of complaining from her sister by marriage.

“Meryton, in Hertfordshire,” Richard replied and took a sip of his wine, allowing this news to settle in for a moment before turning a cheerful face on his aunt. “I was attending Darcy’s wedding, you see; he married Elizabeth Bennet this morning.”

Lady Catherine screamed.

/

Netherfield

That Night

The door closed behind the newlyweds, leaving them alone at last, and Darcy looked adoringly across the table at his beautiful bride. They were eating a private dinner in the large sitting room between their respective bedrooms, and the dishes were doubtless the best that the Netherfield cook could prepare. He was vaguely aware of pleasing smells emanating from the covered dishes on the table, but his heart and soul and mind were focused on the lovely lady sitting across from him, who was now his beloved wife.

They were married; Elizabeth was his, and he was hers. They were bound together before God and man.

“I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy,” Elizabeth said, reaching out her hand, and her eyes were shining with tears of joy. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my precious, darling Elizabeth.”