Darcy held his breath. For four long weeks, he had dreamed of the time when he and Elizabeth would finally be united in marriage. Now it was here.
Mrs. Bennet and her daughters entered and were seated. Bingley took a position where he could clearly look at Miss Jane Bennet.
At that moment, Mr. Bennet appeared at the door and put out his elbow. Elizabeth stepped through the doorway to take it, then looked straight down the aisle towards Darcy.
Their eyes met and caught. Her eyes were brimming with happiness, and the promise in them made his chest ache with emotion.
The rest of the service was a blur. He must have said the right words, and she must have done the same, because suddenly, the vicar was asking them to sign the marriage papers. His hand was firm and steady when he signed his name. He waited while she signed hers.
They emerged from the church to the sound of bells pealing. They were together, side by side, and he laughed and waved at the crowd. Elizabeth threw a bouquet, and he watched as hersister Jane caught it. He continued to laugh and smile as they passed through the crowd of villagers looking on.
They climbed into the carriage on their way to the wedding breakfast. At last, they turned into the country lane leading to Longbourn. There was blessed silence. They were alone.
Now he could finally show his bride a taste of all the love he had been holding back.
They spent a few blissful days in London at Darcy House, before setting out for Pemberley.
On the journey, they amused themselves by reflecting on the past, each one disclosing how they discovered they were in love while regretting the circumstances that had torn them apart.
“What would have happened if we had missed each other that day? Would we have lost the chance to reconcile?”
“Reconcile?” said Mr. Darcy with a smile. “We did not quarrel. We did not need to reconcile.”
“Very well, then, Mr. Darcy, if you must be facetious – let us use the word ‘reconnect’. Does that satisfy you?”
“It is a good word, though I prefer ‘discovered how much we loved each other.’”
There was only one response to that. Elizabeth raised her lips to be kissed, with Mr. Darcy happily obliging.
Sometime later, she returned to the conversation. “Now, you must answer my question. What would have happened?”
Darcy gave it some consideration. “Nothing. I would have asked at Longbourn where you were going, and they would have told me. I would have called on your aunt and uncle.”
“In Cheapside? Oh, horror! What would Miss Bingley have said?”
“I am not even remotely interested in what Miss Bingley would have said. As it so happens, I have come to think of Cheapside as a wonderful place. It has brought me many hours of enjoyment.”
This merited another kiss, and conversation was again interrupted to accommodate this.
A little while later, they went back to remembering their past conversations, and discussing the emotions they had brought out in them.
“You know, you never answered my question,” said Mr. Darcy.
“What question?”
“What kind of animal did you cast me as that day when you were talking about claws?”
“That question?” She gave a gurgle of mirth and looked at him sideways. He loved it when she did that. It was pure Elizabeth.
“Are you certain you want to know the answer?”
“I think I can handle it. It cannot be a rat, because a rat has no claws.”
“It was not an animal at all.” She laughed at his incredulous look. “I am sorry to say, I cast you as an ogre.”
“Surely not! Me? An ogre? That is terrible! I would never have guessed it in a million years.”
“I am sorry. I did not know then that I was about to fall head over heels in love with you.”
