Chapter 18
Meryton Church
The pews of the small church were full of friends and family and neighbors, all shifting and rustling and whispering.
Caroline glanced around the church with a smile.
She had been attending Sunday and holiday services here for some months now and had grown fond of this little Meryton church, with its charmingly carved wooden pews and skillfully picked out scenes of stained glass.
On this most joyous of occasions, it looked even more beautiful than ever.
The native splotches of color from the light shining through the windows were highlighted by vase after vase of brilliant hothouse flowers, and the pews had been adorned by bunches and bows of ribbon.
Caroline knew that Elizabeth would have been perfectly content with a much simpler affair, with perhaps a vase of snowdrops near the altar, but neither she nor Darcy had had the heart to deny Mrs. Bennet her much coveted celebration.
Thus, stunning floral arrangements from London and long lengths of ribbon, festooned the church.
Caroline had to admit that Mrs. Bennet’s excellence of taste, if a tad extravagant, had truly transformed the church, and Darcy’s wealth could well bear the cost of his mother-in-law’s jubilation, and Caroline did not begrudge the older lady her joy.
Mrs. Bennet had every reason to be delighted, as her future and that of her unmarried daughters was now secure.
Darcy and Elizabeth were compatible and would make each other very happy, and his good and generous character would see to it that his new relations would never be left in penury and want. Caroline was overjoyed for them all.
She glanced across the aisle to her right, where sat one of the objects of her contemplations.
Mrs. Bennet and her four unmarried daughters were seated all in a row in the next pew, awaiting the entrance of the bride and her father.
All of them were dressed in their very best gowns, five faces glowing with excitement and happiness and eagerness.
Behind the Bennets sat the Lucases, and if their pleasure was more restrained than that of their friends, it was no less genuine.
Back further still sat the Phillipses, and the Misses Long, and various others of the four-and-twenty families whom Elizabeth considered friends.
Caroline herself was surrounded by yet more friends and family.
She glanced to her left and caught the eye of Colonel Fitzwilliam, looking very well in his red regimentals.
Her movement must have caught his attention as he turned his head to return her glance, and he grinned at her.
Caroline felt her cheeks warming as she returned his smile.
During her time of betrothal to Darcy, she had come to value the colonel very much as a friend, but preoccupied as she had been by an engagement she did not want, no thought had ever crossed her mind to consider the colonel in any other context.
She had been inordinately astonished when he had, not long after New Year’s Day, suggested that they should enter a courtship.
Thus far, it had been a successful experiment.
Colonel Fitzwilliam was a more outgoing and cheerful man than Darcy, genial and social and skilled in conversation, more in line with what Caroline desired in a husband than his rather taciturn cousin.
She had bidden him a regretful goodbye when his leave came to an end, but it had not proven to be a permanent farewell.
His regiment was, at least for the time being, stationed in London, and it was not at all unusual for him to spend his free time in riding the twenty-five miles to Netherfield to spend a day or two with Caroline.
When Darcy had sent word to London of his upcoming nuptials, Colonel Fitzwilliam had hurried to get a day’s leave and had arrived at Netherfield the previous evening.
Dinner had been a convivial affair, with much rejoicing and many congratulations.
Caroline, for her own part, was not quite ready to accept an offer from the colonel, though she liked him very much.
For now, it was enough to enjoy one another’s conversation and company and to ponder the possibility of becoming Mrs. Fitzwilliam at some vague point in the future.
It was not an unappealing prospect, but they both had leisure to ponder it.
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked back towards the altar, and Caroline’s gaze moved on.
Georgiana Bingley was seated beyond her cousin Richard, her hands folded demurely in her lap and her eyes bright with joy.
On her other side, Louisa and Hurst were side-by-side.
Louisa’s figure had become quite round with her growing child, her face plump and shining.
After her first few months of pregnancy, her illness had subsided, and her cheer had subsequently grown with her figure.
The first notes trickled out of the small organ at the front of the church, and all attention swung around to the doors in the back of the sanctuary.
One of the Longbourn footmen opened the doors and then stepped back hastily out of the aisle.
All heads craned to see the bride and her father as they walked slowly into the sanctuary.
Elizabeth looked stunning. A gown of vibrant forest green set off her hair and her eyes, the ivory lace of her overdress lending a creaminess to her complexion. Her eyes, bright with joy, were fastened on her bridegroom where he stood awaiting her, a radiant smile lighting her features.
Caroline watched happily as Elizabeth and her father walked, stately and dignified, down to where Darcy waited, with Bingley in bottle-blue at his shoulder. Mr. Bennet patted his daughter’s ivory-gloved hand and transferred it carefully from his own arm to Darcy’s extended hand.
The church was respectfully silent as Mr. Bennet took his seat, then everyone focused on the beaming, white-haired rector.
***
“Dearly beloved,” old Mr. Allen said, “We are gathered together this day…”
Elizabeth Bennet, soon to be Elizabeth Darcy, tightened her grip on Fitzwilliam's arm, and her beloved responded by reaching over with his right hand to cover her fingers with his own strong ones.
“The union of husband and wife in heart, body, and mind is intended by God for their mutual joy…”
She found tears springing to her eyes, tears of joy and happiness, and blinked them back with difficulty.
The last two months had been marvelous, as the courtship between Darcy and Elizabeth had grown from unofficial to official, and by the middle of February, both were entirely certain that they belonged with one another.
“Elizabeth Bennet, will you have this man to be your husband; to live
together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?
“I will,” Elizabeth said firmly, and now she was trembling with excitement and joy.
“Fitzwilliam Darcy, will you have this woman to be your wife; to live together in the covenant of marriage? Will you love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
He looked down at her, his eyes full of love, and said solemnly, “I will.”
They would be happy together, Elizabeth knew; not because he was perfect, or she was, but because they respected and loved one another, and because both were willing to submit to the Father Above who ruled over all.
“O gracious and ever-living God, you have created us male and female in your image. Look mercifully upon this man and this woman who come to you seeking your blessing, and assist them with your grace, that with true fidelity and steadfast love they may honor and keep the promises and vows they make; through Jesus Christ our Savior, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.”
“Amen,” the congregation chorused.
She was facing Mr. Allen, of course, and could not see the family and friends arrayed behind them, but she was nonetheless aware of them, and in the midst of her joy, there was a tinge of sorrow that she would soon be leaving them behind as she began a new life in Derbyshire.
But they would assuredly visit, early and often.
“Mr. Darcy?” Mr. Allen said with a significant smile, and her beloved Fitzwilliam, at the rector’s prompting, turned toward her and repeated the ancient words from the Book of Common Prayer.
“In the Name of God, I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, take you, Elizabeth Bennet, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”
Her throat was clogged at the love in those dark eyes, but it was her turn now, and she took his right hand in hers and looked up into that handsome face.
“In the Name of God, I, Elizabeth Bennet, take you, Fitzwilliam Darcy, to be my husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”
Mr. Allen stepped down from the dais and reached out to join their hands together.
“Now that Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of a ring, I pronounce that they are husband and wife, in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
“Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder.”
“Amen,” the congregation chorused.
***
Drawing Room
Longbourn
Later
It was not every day that one’s clever second daughter married a man with a fine estate that brought in ten thousand pounds a year, so Mrs. Bennet had felt entirely justified in ordering a lavish wedding breakfast. Elizabeth had not protested, well knowing and even understanding her mother’s ecstatic excitement.
To add Darcy to the family as a son-in-law was joy beyond imagining for Mrs. Bennet, a security she had never truly known, and it would be impossible to prevent her from celebrating.
Thus, the breakfast covered the entirety of the dining table, with every leaf added, and it easily rivaled the Christmas dinner that had graced it mere months previously.
Pies, cakes, syllabubs, hams, roasts of beef, rolls, and heaps of spring vegetables were among the dishes that filled the table.
Tea and coffee and lemonade and chocolate were available by the gallon to slake the thirst of guests, with Jane and Mary taking shifts to pour.
Smaller tables were placed in strategic spots in the hallways and the sitting room for those who wished to sit at a table to eat.
The drawing room was reserved for the court of the bride and groom, with a small table set up in the middle of the room, and a large pineapple displayed in the very center of the table.
Elizabeth found it rather absurd, but she had raised little more than a token protest when it had arrived from London with the flowers.
She did not like to think of the cost, but a quiet word of reassurance from her Fitzwilliam, who was blessedly amused rather than annoyed, had settled her concerns.
Certainly, the rented pineapple was eliciting many comments from the neighbors and perhaps a bit of envy and admiration, which was obviously to Mrs. Bennet’s pleased satisfaction.
Overall, however, attention was focused on the bride and groom, an outpouring of joy and a steady stream of well-wishers eager to congratulate the blissful couple.
Elizabeth and Darcy were occasionally snatching small, hurried bites between congratulatory guests, but their plates sat largely untouched.
It did not much matter as there would be time enough later for food and drink.
For now, Elizabeth was floating in a dream of perfect happiness, her hand twined with her husband’s, and the hour of their departure inched ever nearer.
Two hours, they had promised to Mrs. Bennet, two hours for the wedding breakfast, and the first one had crawled past already.
Then they would be away, the Darcy carriage bearing them northward towards Pemberley.
Darcy had sent a servant ahead to bespeak rooms for them at an excellent inn, some miles along the Great North Road.
Dinner and clean beds would be waiting for them when they stopped that evening, to spend their first night together as man and wife.
The very thought had Elizabeth’s blood singing in her veins, and she squeezed her husband’s fingers lightly.
What a glorious thought that he indeed was her husband!
He looked over at her, perhaps in answer to her squeeze, and their eyes caught.
The hum of conversation, of congratulations and well-wishes and happy chatter, faded away from their perceptions.
Husband and wife gazed at each other, the world not intruding onto this quiet moment of adoration between them.
“I love you, my dear Elizabeth,” Darcy murmured.
“I love you too,” she replied. “I love you so very much.”