But Elizabeth only laughed as Darcy swept her into another graceful turn, his heart steady and full. For on this twelfth day, she had become his.
Forever.
Elizabeth
The air inside the drawing room brimmed with lively spirit. News of the engagement had spread swiftly, traveling to the card room and the retiring room, and well-wishers from Meryton and the surrounding area clustered around the newly betrothed, offering congratulations, blessings, and the occasional speculative glance. The warmth and laughter of the company was as heady as the punch.
Elizabeth stood at Darcy’s side, her arm lightly brushing his. Though she had often felt on display at such gatherings, this evening she did not mind in the least. Not with him beside her.
Mrs. Long’s eyes twinkled. “Miss Elizabeth, I will have to remember to say Mrs. Darcy soon. My dear, what a splendid match! I am honored to have it announced at my gathering.”
More neighbors came to wish them joy. A few young ladies whispered of their envy at Elizabeth’s elegant accessories, while others admired the romance of the evening, declaring it the perfect close to the festive season.
Just then, Jane and Bingley approached, their expressions alight with mirth.
“You sly thing!” Jane’s laughter belied her reproach. “Not a word, not a single hint! And you—” she wagged a finger in mock reproof—“you spent the whole day being perfectly composed. I had forgotten entirely about your secret admirer!”
Elizabeth grinned, feigning innocence. “It was all very mysterious, was it not?”
Darcy inclined his head. “I had the distinct impression Elizabeth enjoyed being mysterious.”
Bingley clapped Darcy on the back, laughing. “And you! Keeping silent when I have been agonizing over invitations and estates and managing my sisters. I demand a forfeit, Darcy.” He paused. “Oh! Caroline will be furious when she hears what the season in Hertfordshire has produced: your betrothal to Miss Elizabeth, my own happiness secured, and even a match for Miss Mary. She long wished for a closer connection between our families. She will have it, though not in the manner that she intended. That alone is prize enough, I think.”
At that moment, Mary and Sanderson joined them. Her cheeks were flushed, her hand snug in her betrothed’s.
Sanderson tipped his head toward Darcy and Bingley. “It seems congratulations are in order for us all.”
Mary added primly, though her eyes betrayed delight, “It is a remarkable thing that all three of us should become engaged within such a short time.”
Elizabeth caught Jane and Mary’s hands. “Shall we marry on the same day? We would cause quite a stir, the three of us entering the church together.”
Mary and Jane agreed at once, and Bingley lent his ready assent. “There is wisdom in that. We ought to consult your father; he will appreciate one wedding breakfast instead of three.”
“I dare say he will approve on account of the expense.” Jane’s smile held a wry twist. “Though Mama will likely suffer a fit of nerves.”
Darcy‘s amusement deepened. “Shall we have her salts at the ready?”
Sanderson chuckled. “We shall simply keep the window open; the air will revive her.”
The three couples stood close, a triangle of affection and resolve, laughter threading easily among them.
Darcy leaned nearer, his subdued fervor unmistakable. “We gentlemen have waited long enough. I, for one, do not intend to delay in claiming my bride.”
Bingley raised his glass. “To haste—blessed haste.”
Sanderson echoed, “To our brides—and a joyful union for us all.”
Their glasses met in perfect accord, the sound clear against the soft hum of merriment. Elizabeth found Darcy’s eyes, her smile blooming once more.
It was a new beginning, and it would be a very happy one indeed.
As the Bennet carriage rumbled along the lane toward Longbourn, Elizabeth sat nestled beside Jane, her gloved hands resting upon the sapphire shawl Darcy had given her. Mrs. Bennet chattered happily from the seat opposite, praising Providence in loud and effusive tones. “Three daughters wellmarried! It is a blessing indeed. God has been very good to us, and just wait until I order the lace—”
“No lace, Mrs. Bennet! Let that wait until morning.” Mr. Bennet checked her with sly humor, and the conversation shifted.
On arriving home, Lydia cast a speculative look at Elizabeth’s attire and gave a dramatic sigh. “Lizzy, you look far too fine. All those beautiful things. ’Tis positively unfair!”
Mrs. Bennet turned to truly take in her daughter for the first time, eyes widening as they swept over the pearl necklace, the gloves, the pins. “From your betrothed? Indeed, Mr. Darcy is very generous. A fine man! I always said he had good sense.”
