Chapter 6
Darcy looked down the length of the aisle, holding his breath and willing the doors to open, allowing him a glimpse of his bride. From that day forth, he never meant to part from her.
But the Bennets were late.
He pulled the forget-me-not wedding ring out of his pocket, the whispers fading as he focused on the fastenings gripping the gemstones.
The pews were packed with Elizabeth’s family and friends, Longbourn’s tenants, several of Bingley’s intimate acquaintances…
Even Mr. Collins was present where Elizabeth was not.
While other brides had been known to increase the suspense of the occasion by appearing late, Elizabeth was neither so vain nor cruel. Some obstacle must have delayed her, some accident befallen her or one of her party.
With a nod at the vicar, Darcy stepped down the aisle, intent on resolving the evil keeping his Elizabeth from his side.
The door creaked open, and Mrs. Bennet scrambled to meet him.
Her eyes squinted, her face flushed, and her general manner flustered.
Addressing him as much as the assembled waiting, she smiled and said, “Our apologies for the delay. One of the brides has torn her gown, and it must be repaired before the service. We thank you for your presence on this glorious, blessed day … and your patience. Pray allow us a few minutes more.”
If Mrs. Bennet’s manners were not so often agitated, Darcy would have discredited her explanation that instant. He looked over his shoulder where Bingley stood beside the vicar.
The clergyman nodded. “It is early yet. There is sufficient time to perform the ceremony.”
Darcy ought to join Bingley, but he was nearer the entrance doors. He just needed to see Elizabeth. One look to allay the dread churning in his stomach.
Miss Bingley’s sharp whisper to her sister, Mrs. Hurst, reached Darcy in the aisle where he stood directly beside them. “Perhaps Miss Eliza had a change of heart.”
Darcy’s jaw clenched. He did not envy Miss Bennet her sisters-in-law. He had hoped they would not be present, but it appeared that Miss Bingley would hold out hope until there was no more to be had, and Mrs. Hurst would encourage her.
Mrs. Hurst mumbled, “She is as flighty as Mrs. Wickham.”
He forced his shoulders to relax and exhaled slowly.
He was marrying the woman he loved — Elizabeth — and that was that.
She was worth the attachment he would have to endure.
Yes, Wickham would be his brother, but nothing of value ever came without a cost, and Elizabeth was as precious as Wickham was worthless.
Darcy grimaced at the memory. He had had to drag that ingrate to his London parish with a common license and, with the girl’s uncle also serving as a witness, stand behind Wickham until their inked signatures dried in the register.
One disaster averted and effectively patched over. The Bennets’ reputation saved.
The smile on Elizabeth’s face, the tenderness with which she had regarded Darcy from that moment on had made his exertions worth the sacrifice.
It went beyond gratitude, beyond obligation.
Elizabeth was too strong-willed, her mind too firm, to agree to marry him for anything less than the deepest love.
Miss Bingley’s spite was borne from jealousy.
Mrs. Bennet looked over her shoulder at the doors closed behind her, then back at him.
She occupied all the space she possibly could in the middle of the aisle, preventing him from taking another step forward.
She probably feared he would bolt at the first hint of complication, that if she blinked or breathed wrong, her house of cards would collapse.
Darcy could have reassured her, but he had not yet learned how to converse with the matron without provoking her nerves or his impatience.
He would learn, but today his aim was to marry Elizabeth, and every second that ticked by without her beside him was a second wasted.
He stepped forward, but Mrs. Bennet refused to budge.
“Mr. Darcy, you cannot see the bride before the wedding! It is not done!”
A foolish custom if ever there was one.
She shoved his arm, pushing him away. “Now, you go and stand by Mr. Bingley, and allow me to see to Lizzy’s gown. Just a few more minutes is all we require.”
He was tempted to pick his soon-to-be mother-in-law up and move her out of his way, but he did not suppose that would foster good feeling between them.
Elizabeth had teased him for his skeptical tendency.
And so, he followed the direction of Mrs. Bennet’s nudges back down the length of the aisle and resumed his place beside Bingley, ignoring his misgivings.