Chapter 18
Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley stood at the front of the church sanctuary and waited, his heart beating like a drum in his chest.
The church was a traditional one, built in the Gothic Revival style favored by the Church of England, and the familiarity of the soaring ceiling and the wooden pews comforted his agitated soul.
The sanctuary, which had been almost full the Sabbath day before, was now nearly empty. Governor and Mrs. Bowyer sat in the front row. Directly behind them, Mrs. Kendall sat with Rebekah, Sarah, and Jacob in the row beside her.
The door at the rear of the sanctuary opened and Darcy jerked to attention, his gaze fixed on his Elizabeth as she approached him on Mr. Kendall’s arm. She was clothed in a simple green dress and her hair was piled high, with green ribbons braided into its glossy folds. She was radiant.
Mr. Kendall guided her down the aisle and formally transferred Elizabeth’s hand from his own arm to Darcy’s. A moment later, with a ripple of amusement from the small audience, Mr. Kendall climbed one step and turned to officiate the ceremony.
Elizabeth smiled up at the rector gratefully.
It had been a trifle awkward that Mr. Kendall was both the parson overseeing the wedding and the guardian substituting for her father, but Elizabeth would allow no one else to walk her down to Mr. Darcy.
She was truly grateful to the Kendalls for taking her in, and Mr. Kendall had been a loyal protector to her for these last months.
Now, here, today, she would be joined in marriage to Mr. Darcy, who would take on the responsibility of protecting her from evil men like Sir Claude.
The ceremony was a familiar one to all those in attendance.
The words from the Book of Common Prayer rolled out across the large chamber with Mr. Kendall, Darcy, and Elizabeth speaking the words of commitment and honor which had been spoken countless times before them.
For both bride and groom, it was a breathtaking experience to be married before God and man in a cathedral on a small island in the Caribbean Sea.
At last they were man and wife, and as they gazed into one another’s eyes, their hearts sang with joy.
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The wedding breakfast was held in the courtyard between the church and parsonage and was unpretentious but delicious.
Mrs. Bennet would have been horrified at its simplicity, but Elizabeth was content.
Sarah and Rebekah served the few guests with plates of fruit, bread and fish, but Elizabeth made certain that the servants sat down and ate as well.
After the meal was completed, after the Governor and his wife had departed and Helena had retreated to her room to rest, Darcy and Elizabeth, by silent consent, left the parsonage and walked arm-in-arm down to the sea.
It was a rather windy day and the ocean breezes were welcome relief from the hot Crucian sun.
They stood on the beach staring out over the water, Elizabeth standing in front with her new husband with his strong arms wrapped around her.
She nestled into him with a sigh of contentment.
“Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”
“For what, my darling?”
“Thank you for pursuing me. For leaving everything behind, including your many responsibilities and even your family, to come after me. Thank you for getting on to a great ship and sailing after me across the vast and unpredictable ocean. And thank you for allowing me the time to learn who you are and to realize that I indeed love you.”
Darcy smiled and took a deep, contented breath.
“I love you, Elizabeth.”
“I love you too, Fitzwilliam.”