Chapter 46

22 nd May, 1812

Kympton Church

The Kympton church was beautiful, the stained glass windows freshly cleaned and throwing pools of color across the old, worn oak pews. Lilies and roses, carefully arranged the previous evening by the Bennet ladies and several of the maids from Pemberley, perfumed the air and adorned the vestibule and nave and altar. Ribbons dangled artfully from the ends of the pews, fluttering in any faint stir of air.

On any other occasion, the grand old church with its high oak beams and lovely windows would have attracted much admiration. Skillful scenes depicted the life of Christ; calming a storm and feeding a crowd, standing in a garden and sitting at a well, birth and death and resurrection. The beautiful windows at Kympton had often excited comment from awed visitors, but now, an expectant hush had settled over the church, and all eyes turned towards the doors.

The elderly vicar of a nearby parish, a Mr. Parfitt, had traveled to the Kympton church to oversee the wedding ceremony, since his colleague at Kympton was one of the two gentlemen marrying today. The two bridegrooms eagerly waited at the altar, and only the nearest and dearest of relations sat in the pews. An urgent dispatch from Darcy had brought Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam hurrying north, overjoyed at the news that both Darcy and Anne had found spouses they respected and held in affection. He was to walk Anne down the aisle, and thus was not present on the pew, but the fruits of his brief detour to Hertfordshire sat there.

No one knew precisely what the colonel had said to fob off Mr. Collins during his short visit to Longbourn, but Richard Fitzwilliam had entered that house alone and exited with Mrs. Bennet on one arm and Mrs. Montgomery on the other, with a servant bringing their trunks behind to load into the carriage. Now both women sat side by side, anxiously waiting for the appearance of the brides. Mrs. Bennet, dressed in the lilac of half mourning, was teary with joy; she knew Darcy well enough to be confident of her second daughter's happiness. Behind them, Kitty and Lydia flanked Jane, barely containing their fidgets and squirms of excitement. Across the way, Georgiana Darcy sat beside Mrs. Annesley, watching the doors as avidly as everyone else.

Anne and Elizabeth looked at each other over one more time as Colonel Fitzwilliam stood patiently waiting to open the doors. There were no adjustments to be made; Anne's simple yellow gown with its white lace was impeccable, and her hair, simply arranged, left nothing to be desired. Elizabeth was radiant in a gentle spring green, blue ribbon rosettes decorating cuffs and neckline. Anne nodded decisively. "I think we are ready."

Richard pushed open the doors, moved to take Anne's arm in his own, and stepped out into the sanctuary of the church. Charles Bingley smiled down at his sister by marriage, patting her hand where it lay on his arm in a brotherly fashion, and the two followed Anne and Colonel Fitzwilliam.

At the far end of the nave, Darcy caught his breath as he gazed at the apparition of beauty coming down the aisle towards him. Elizabeth smiled, her face radiant, and he felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes stayed firmly on her until Bingley transferred her white-gloved hand onto his own arm, and they, alongside Anne and Mr. Sinclair, turned to face the vicar, whose untamable white hair formed a sun-lit halo around his head. He smiled down at them before turning his attention to the open book on the lectern.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered together today…"

/

23 rd May, 1812

Pemberley

Lady Catherine,

I have the very great privilege of informing you that only yesterday, I married the former Miss Elizabeth Bennet, second daughter of the deceased Mr. Bennet of Longbourn.

I enclose a letter from Anne on the subject of her own marriage.

Sincerely,

Fitzwilliam Darcy

/

Mother,

I married Mr. Alexander Sinclair yesterday in Kympton, alongside Darcy and Elizabeth Darcy nee Bennet. Alexander is a clergyman who previously held the Kympton living, though of course we will soon be moving to Rosings.

My uncle, Lord Matlock, sent me a detailed summary of Sir Lewis's will. As a married woman, I am now mistress of Rosings, and you are not. I want you out of Rosings and into the Dower House within the next two weeks.

If you have not moved by the time my husband and I arrive in mid June, I will have you forcibly removed.

Sincerely,

Anne Sinclair

/

Pemberley

Dear Mary,

Elizabeth is now Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy. That was the reason for my journey north. I am sorry that I was unable to tell you why I was departing for Pemberley, but I did not want the gossiping Lucases or anyone else to inform Lady Catherine of the situation.

The former Anne de Bourgh was married to a Mr. Alexander Sinclair at the same wedding ceremony. She and her new husband will be journeying to Kent in the next few weeks, whereupon they will take control of the estate of Rosings. Mrs. Sinclair is now legal mistress of Rosings due to her marriage.

If you wish for me to return to Longbourn, please let me know. Otherwise, I will stay here for some weeks. It is a relief to be away from Longbourn and the constant reminders of your father.

But if you need company, please tell me, and I will arrange for the younger girls and me to come.

Your loving mother,

Frances Bennet

/

The Darcys' Bedchamber

Pemberley

27 th May, 1812

Like clouds dissipating on a sullen day turned sunny, sleep wisped away from Elizabeth, leaving her comfortably lethargic in body and alert in mind. She blinked her eyes open, looking over at the deep crimson curtains still drawn over the window. They were glowing faintly like a banked fire, the upper edges limned with the soft gray light of first dawn.

She stretched languorously and rolled onto her side, studying her sleeping husband's face. His chest rose and fell, shifting the blankets slightly with each breath. Her eyes searched his face, gliding over a brow relaxed in repose, peacefully shut eyes, a stern mouth softened in sleep, the faint stubble along his cheeks and jaw. Her heart swelled with adoration for this man until she felt as though she would burst. She had no qualms about her choice; were she given the chance tomorrow to do it once more, the only change she would make would be to say yes with even greater haste.

Her precious Fitzwilliam was unfailingly courteous in word and deed, attentive when she spoke, conscious of her needs and her thoughts and her wisdom, inexhaustibly considerate of her family staying on at Pemberley. He had not shown by so much as an eyebrow twitch that he protested or resented her mother and sisters remaining at his home, but was always gracious. How kind he was, how good to her! It nearly hurt how much she loved him.

Elizabeth lifted her hand, laying it very gently along her husband's cheek. He stirred, turning his head into her touch, and blinked awake to bestow her a sleepy smile. She smiled back tenderly before stretching up to greet him with a brief good morning kiss.

"I love you, Fitzwilliam."

"I love you too, Elizabeth."