EPILOGUE
The morning of the wedding dawned clear and bright, as though even the weather conspired to celebrate.
A double wedding had been Elizabeth's suggestion—Jane's ceremony was already planned, and it seemed foolish to put the household through the ordeal twice.
Mrs. Bennet had wept with joy at the prospect of marrying off two daughters in one magnificent event that would be the talk of Hertfordshire for years.
The church at Meryton had never been so crowded. Elizabeth processed down the aisle on her father's arm, her eyes finding Fitzwilliam immediately. He stood beside Mr. Bingley, looking more handsome than she had ever seen him, his expression one of such open joy that her heart swelled.
Beside him stood Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had greeted Elizabeth the previous day with warm enthusiasm, declaring that his cousin had at last displayed unassailable discernment.
In the front pew sat Georgiana Darcy, her shy countenance softened by unmistakable affection as she caught Elizabeth’s eye.
Having already welcomed her as a sister upon their first meeting, she now smiled through bright, unshed tears, as though the happiness of the day were almost more than she could bear.
Elizabeth's family filled the opposite side. Her mother wept tears of joy while Kitty, Mary, and Lydia sat nearby. The Gardiners and the Phillips smiled with warm approval.
Miss Caroline Bingley, Mrs. Louisa Hurst, and Mr. Hurst were likewise in attendance, though the smiles worn by the two sisters were of so fixed and brittle in nature that one feared they might fracture beneath the slightest strain of civility.
Also wearing a countenance of pronounced gravity, in striking contrast to his wife’s radiant satisfaction, was Mr. Collins.
He had arrived that very morning bearing what he considered grave intelligence from Lady Catherine—namely, her extreme displeasure at the match and her firm conviction that it ought not to proceed.
Darcy listened with perfect composure before replying, in a voice of calm resolve, “My aunt has already expressed her opinion on the matter, and, as I informed her in my letter, it is of no consequence.”
What Mr. Collins did not know was that a second message had arrived, this one from Miss Anne de Bourgh’s letter.
In it she confessed that her mother had expressly forbidden her even to breathe in the direction of the impending wedding, yet she nevertheless offered her sincere congratulations upon the engagement.
Lady Catherine's earlier letter had been less temperate, filled with pronouncements about enchantment and degrading alliances. Darcy had read it and tossed it into the fire without comment.
Now, as Elizabeth reached the altar and placed her hand in Fitzwilliam's, she thought of that letter turning to ash and felt only relief.
The ceremony was beautiful. Jane and Mr. Bingley made their vows first, then Elizabeth's turn came.
"I, Elizabeth, take thee, Fitzwilliam..."
His eyes never left hers. When the vicar pronounced them man and wife, Fitzwilliam smiled with such unguarded happiness that Elizabeth forgot they were in a church full of people.
***
The wedding breakfast at Longbourn was joyous. Elizabeth moved through the crowd on her husband's arm, greeting guests and accepting congratulations.
She paused when she saw Catherine Dobson with Sarah, both dressed in their finest, standing somewhat apart. Elizabeth approached immediately.
"Miss Dobson, I am so glad you could come."
Sarah looked up with wide eyes. "You're the lady Papa talked about when he came back to Bath!"
Darcy knelt to Sarah's level. "And now she is my wife. What do you think of that?"
"I think it's wonderful!"
Miss Dobson’s eyes filled with tears. “You have been exceedingly kind to us, sir. Now that you have found your own happiness, I can do nothing but wish you every joy.” She turned to Elizabeth, her expression softening further. “And the same to you, ma’am.”
Elizabeth took her hand. "You are always welcome at Pemberley. Always."
Nearby, Elizabeth caught sight of another man who Darcy soon introduced as Thomas Hewitt. He had told her everything about his father after the proposal—the morning walks, the counsel and the deathbed words.
"I am so sorry for your loss," Elizabeth said. "Your father meant a great deal to my husband."
"He would have been pleased to see this day," Thomas replied, his eyes bright. "He always believed he would find happiness."
"Because of him, I did," Darcy said simply.
***
Later, amid the cheerful bustle of the festivities, Mrs. Bennet drew Elizabeth aside with an expression of scandalised importance.
“Have you heard?” she whispered, though her whisper carried farther than she intended. “Mr. Wickham has been apprehended! They seized him as he attempted to board a ship for America. Mrs. Long just told me that he is confined now in a debtor’s prison in London!”
Elizabeth felt a solemn, sober satisfaction rather than triumph. “I cannot say I am surprised,” she replied quietly.
Georgiana, who stood nearby, had grown very pale at the name. Darcy moved instantly to her side, his presence protective without being ostentatious.
“He can harm no one now,” he said in a low, steady voice. “He must answer for his conduct.”
Elizabeth reached gently for Georgiana’s hand. “You have shown remarkable courage, Miss Darcy.”
Georgiana managed a faint smile. “Call me Georgiana, and I have had the very best example,” she said softly, her eyes lifting to her brother with unmistakable affection.
Mrs. Bennet looked from one to the other, clearly perplexed by the gravity that had descended upon what she considered a most gratifying piece of news.
Yet her delight in the double wedding far outweighed her curiosity.
With a satisfied nod and a flutter of her fan, she soon hastened away to receive another guest, never pausing to enquire how Miss Darcy had become so intimately connected to the subject.
***
As the afternoon faded, Elizabeth found herself in the garden with Jane while their husbands spoke with Mr. Bennet.
"Can you believe it, Lizzy?" Jane said softly. "A month ago we thought ourselves so miserable. And now—"
"Now we are the happiest women in England," Elizabeth finished.
Jane laughed. "Mama will dine on this triumph for years."
"Let her. She has earned it."
Elizabeth looked toward the house where she could see Darcy through the window. Even from this distance, she could feel the connection between them.
"He loves you very much," Jane observed.
"I know. And I love him—so much more than I ever thought possible." Elizabeth smiled. "Isn't it strange? I spent so long thinking I knew exactly who he was, and I was wrong about everything."
"Not everything," Jane corrected. "You simply did not see that he was also good, and kind, and capable of great love."
***
That night, as the last guests departed, Mr. Bennet drew Elizabeth aside.
"Well, Lizzy," he said, his voice gruff with emotion. "I cannot say I anticipated this outcome when you went to Bath."
"Nor did I, Papa."
"But I am glad of it. Mr. Darcy is a good man. Better than Meryton gave him credit for. He will take care of you."
"I know he will."
Mr. Bennet embraced her. "Be happy, my dear. You deserve it."
"I intend to be."
***
The carriage that would take them to Pemberley waited in the drive. Darcy helped Elizabeth inside, then climbed in beside her. As they pulled away from Longbourn, Elizabeth looked back at Jane waving beside Mr. Bingley, at her family gathered to see her off.
Then she turned to her husband and smiled.
"Ready to begin, Mrs. Darcy?" he asked softly.
"More than ready, Mr. Darcy."
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "I love you. I will love you every day for the rest of my life."
"And I you," Elizabeth said. "Always."
The carriage rolled on toward Derbyshire, towards Pemberly, toward their future.
Elizabeth Darcy rested her head against her husband’s shoulder and knew, with quiet certainty, that she had never been happier. Against her better judgment—against pride, against prejudice—he had led her gently toward understanding, and at last, toward love.
From first impressions to final vows, the journey had been unexpected… but it had always been him.
THE END