The church held everyone she loved, though there had been some discussion over where everyone ought to sit. In the end Lady Matlock, Mrs. Pembroke, and Mr. Gardiner were placed upon her side, while Lord and Lady Ashford sat with Darcy's family. Mrs. Gardiner stood waiting at the front of the church. Colonel Fitzwilliam stood beside Darcy and, catching Elizabeth's eye as she entered, looked as though he were restraining a remark only through considerable effort.
Darcy turned as she came down the aisle, and whatever amusement Colonel Fitzwilliam might have found in the occasion was forgotten. There was nothing guarded in Darcy's expression now. The reserve that had once seemed as natural to him as breathing had vanished entirely.
When she reached him, his gaze did not leave her, and Elizabeth found she minded it no more than she minded the sunlight through the church windows.
The vows were familiar words, spoken every day in churches throughout England, yet she thought she had never heard them quite so clearly. She meant every one. So, she suspected, did Darcy.
When it was over, he retained possession of her hand rather longer than was strictly necessary, and might very well have continued to do so indefinitely had Colonel Fitzwilliam not cleared his throat with such significance that half the church turned to look at him.
Darcy appeared wholly prepared to ignore the interruption.
Colonel Fitzwilliam appeared delighted by the discovery.
They went to Brinmouth because there was nowhere else they wished to go.
The cottage at Cliff Row was exactly as Elizabeth remembered it. The sea announced itself long before it came into view, and she found herself smiling before they had even reached the door.
One morning she rose early and walked down to the shore as she had done so many times before. The sea was much as she remembered; the waves rolling steadily toward the sand, the gulls wheeling overhead, the familiar scent of salt carried upon the wind.
She found the flat rock and sat for a while, thinking of that first morning.
The breeze toyed with the ribbons of her bonnet, and Elizabeth smiled and removed it, setting it beside her. The wind chose that moment to rise, and the bonnet lifted from the rock and went skimming across the sand. "Oh dear." A familiar figure intercepted it before it had travelled very far, and Darcy straightened with the bonnet in his hand and began walking toward her.
"It seems the wind favours mischief this morning."
Elizabeth laughed.
"I believe I have heard that observation before."
"So have I."
He stopped before her.
"Well, sir?"
"Yes?"
"My bonnet."
Darcy considered it.
"I think I prefer you without it."
"Mr. Darcy."
"Mrs. Darcy."
Before she could properly reply, he drew her into his arms and kissed her, and somewhere in the process the bonnet slipped from his fingers and disappeared. Neither of them noticed, and when at last Elizabeth thought of it again and looked about, it had vanished entirely.
"My bonnet."
Darcy glanced toward the sea.
"I believe it has been claimed."
"A terrible loss."
"Very much so."
