The ancient vicar cracked open his well-wornBook of Common Prayerand began to read. “Dearly beloved . . .”
Darcy listened closely to the entire service, documenting it for posterity in his mind. He never wished to forget the moment Elizabeth promised to be his forever, or when he slid the cool gold band on Elizabeth’s finger or how she blushed when he repeated the vow. “With my body, I thee worship.” He would always recall how deeply her happiness was reflected in her dark eyes when the vicar declared “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder,” for he was sure that his own joy was as easy for her to see.
He had been startled, at that juncture in the ceremony, by a loud, half-choked cry from the back of the sanctuary. When he glanced up, he could see Miss Bingley holding a handkerchief. He was determined to ignore her sniffling. As he turned to face Elizabeth again, he could see Mrs. Bingley, standing behind his bride and glaring at Charles’s sister.
The sound was quickly muffled, and Mrs. Bingley returned her attention to the vicar, her countenance sweet and serene.
When at last the service was over and they were led to the marriage register, Elizabeth chuckled.
“What is it?” he asked. She pointed at the last entry. Mr. Charles Bingley and Miss Jane Bennet. And their own signatures, as witnesses.
Darcy signed his name. “Has it really been just over a fortnight?” he asked, befuddled. “It feels an age.”
“Only because you were in a self-imposed isolation for much of it,” Elizabeth teased him, taking the pen from him to add her name.
“I remained in my rooms because it was the Bingleys’ wedding night, and they did not re-emerge on the nights that followed,” he told her wryly. “It is not usually the best time to be hosting guests.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied pertly. “You are very thoughtful.”
“Mrs. Bingley,” the vicar called. “We need your signature as witness.”
Elizabeth handed the pen to her sister as Mrs. Bingley stepped over to them.
“Mrs. Darcy,” Darcy said, taking his wife’s hand. “I intend to hide away again, if you do not mind.”
She took his hand and squeezed it. “Not as long as I am allowed to hide with you.”
The building was nearly empty now. “That is the plan, Mrs. Darcy.” He moved her bonnet back a bit to drop a kiss on the top of her head. “That is the plan.”
Instead of a wedding breakfast immediately following the ceremony, the entire family and some of their friends would gather for Christmas dinner on the morrow. This meant that Elizabeth could take the carriage back to Netherfield with her new husband.
“Lizzy, Mr. Darcy,” Jane called.
“Yes, Jane?” Elizabeth asked.
“Would you mind if Charles and I took Miss Bingley to visit Longbourn for the day? Mamma has a number of things she wishes done for the dinner tomorrow, and I thought we could help.”
“We would not mind at all, so long asyoudo not mind if we return to Netherfield.”
“Of course not. Caroline,” Jane called quietly, “we shall be returning with my family to Longbourn and remaining for dinner.”
They all ignored Miss Bingley’s little cry of dismay.
“Your sister has a streak of cruelty in her that I quite approve,” Fitzwilliam murmured in her ear.
Miss Bingley would remain in Hertfordshire through Christmas and would be a guest at the dinner that would celebrate both the day and the marriage. But as soon as the sun was up on the twenty-sixth, she and Mrs. Matthias would be on their way back north to Scarborough, where Mrs. Hurst ought now to be expecting her. Mrs. Matthias had confessed that she was very happy to be returning home for Twelfth Night.
“It is not cruelty,” Elizabeth corrected her husband. “Jane has a finely honed sense of justice, is all, and she wishes for Miss Bingley to be well chastised for attempting to come between us.”
“Whatever you name it, I am grateful for two things. One, she did not apply the same sort of chastisement to me when I separated her from Bingley, and two, she is now sending us to Netherfield, quite alone.”
Jane had always been firm where she knew herself to be right, but she was truly able to be herself now that Charles was there to support her.
Elizabeth opened her mouth to say so, but then met her husband’s intense, magnetic gaze, and her breath hitched. That look promised something she did not understand but was eager to discover. “Is the carriage out front?” she asked.
Fitzwilliam took her by the hand. “Anders is waiting. Shall we say our farewells to your family?”
“Jane will do that for us,” Elizabeth informed him.
