Epilogue
Mr Henderson made one final adjustment to Charles’s cravat, then stepped away to admire his handiwork. “You make a fine bridegroom, sir,” he said.
Charles checked his reflection in the looking glass.
His new blue paisley waistcoat was the perfect complement to his dark blue coat.
With his cravat fashioned into a mail coach design, thanks to Henderson’s expertise, and his favourite fobs and seals, he agreed that his valet had turned him out in grand style. “I hope Miss Bennet will agree.”
“Of course, she will. Don’t forget that the ring is in your left inside pocket.”
Charles patted the pocket – yes, it was still there.
Dressed for the most important day of his life, Charles joined the party in the drawing room. His family had assembled with Miss Darcy and Mrs Annesley.
“You look as fine as fivepence, Charles,” Louisa said.
Henry Hurst clapped him on the back. “Henderson has outdone himself today.”
Aunt Beatrice and Uncle Cecil, who had made the trip from Lancashire, came forward to embrace him. “Oh, Charles, your mama and papa would be so proud,” she said, then kissed his cheek while his uncle warmly shook his hand.
Even Caroline joined in the merriment. “Charles is surely the most handsome groom ever seen in this part of the kingdom.”
He ignored his sister’s snide comment. Nothing would ruin this day for him, but the sound of distant thunder sent a cold shiver down his spine.
“Oh, dear. I hope that’s not a storm coming,” Caroline said with mock concern. “What a disaster that would be.”
Henry merely chuckled at Caroline’s false pretences. “Who could have guessed when we first arrived in the country that you would be riveted three months later, Charles?” he said with a teasing wink.
Thankful for his brother-in-law’s sense of humour, Charles shrugged off his momentary alarm.
“Certainly not I.” Despite his temporary difficulties, no hint of doubt had ever entered his mind that Jane was his one true love.
But now, recalling Mrs Bennet’s prediction at the November assembly that he and Jane would soon be married, he couldn’t decide if his future mother-in-law was a boastful matchmaker or a gifted soothsayer.
Darcy entered the room with Colonel Fitzwilliam, who was to stand up with him. “There you are. Now we can finally be on our way to the church,” Charles said, relieved that there would be no delay to their departure.
“Why the rush, Charles?” Caroline inquired, with dramatic flair. “We needn’t leave for at least another hour, and we were just having a lovely chat with Miss Darcy.”
“Yes, yes, the men must be on their way,” Aunt Beatrice said, gesturing towards the door. “You mustn’t risk having even a glimpse of the brides before they enter the church.”
“Don’t worry, Charles,” Uncle Cecil said. “I’ll make sure that we all get to the church in plenty of time.”
Since they had already arranged for everyone’s transportation to the church, nothing remained but for Charles to collect his best man and head to the church. “Let’s be off, shall we, Henry?”
“I’ll be right behind you, Brother,” Henry said.
“We’ll see you all at the church,” Darcy said, then offered his arm to his sister, followed by the colonel and Mrs Annesley.
They were met in the vestibule by Mr Henderson, Mr Hobbs, Mr Winters, and two maids to assist them with their hats, coats, and gloves. “I’ll send Lockhart back here to bring you and anyone else who wants to witness the ceremony,” Charles said to the loyal valets.
Outside, two carriages awaited. With a quick salute to Darcy, Charles boarded his chaise with Henry, and a moment later, they were on their way. Once they reached the lane, he was finally able to relax. In less than two hours, he would meet Jane at the altar and they would be together forever.
***
“You remember the Haversham ladies, Fitzwilliam, do you not?” Georgiana inquired as they followed Charles’s carriage through Netherfield’s gates.
Darcy recalled their brief meeting at Vauxhall Gardens. “I believe so.”
“They joined us for supper last week,” she said, gazing fondly at Richard.
While this seemed like nothing out of the ordinary, he didn’t fail to notice his cousin’s contented smile.
“Charles introduced us at an assembly,” Richard said. “I knew you wouldn’t mind, so I asked Georgie to invite them.”
“That’s interesting, but isn’t Destiny a bit young?” His cousin had never pursued girls just out of the schoolroom.
Richard smirked. “Indeed, she is. I find her aunt far more interesting.”
This made even less sense to Darcy. “The aging chaperone?”
“She’s six and twenty, and has devoted the last five years to her niece.”
Georgiana nodded. “Yes, the two ladies have suffered several bereavements over the past few years and finally emerged from mourning this past summer.”
Darcy had only had a glimpse of the lady after the performance at Vauxhall Gardens. “Why haven’t you mentioned her?”
“It’s early days, but…we’ll see,” Richard said as the carriage turned onto Meryton Road.
Darcy doubted his cousin, a second son, would pay court to a woman with no fortune, so he gathered that this one must be highly eligible.
“Dear Lord!” Richard said, as they approached the church. “That’s my father’s coach.”
Darcy immediately recognised the Matlock coat of arms on the coach door; the white and red diamond pattern was unmistakable.
“Well, Cousin, despite Aunt Catherine’s objection to the match, it seems that the earl has come to support you and Elizabeth on your wedding day,” Richard said with an amused grin.
“I’m only sorry I won’t be there when she learns of it.”
“She’ll be as mad as a hornet,” Richard said as they alighted.
To Darcy’s relief, his aunt and uncle had come to witness his nuptials.
When he’d asked the earl if he would attend the ceremony, he had offered some vague excuse about the excessive demands on his time and his duties to the kingdom.
Darcy had given up any hope of seeing his nearest relations, but the Earl and Countess of Matlock had come to lend their consequence to the festivities.
He found them in the vestibule conversing with Charles, Henry, and the vicar, dressed in his flowing white robe and embroidered stole.
Lady Matlock warmly greeted Georgiana and Mrs Annesley, then reached for Darcy’s hand. “You are precise to a pin, my dear Fitzwilliam,” she said, kissing his cheek.
“Thank you for making the trip, Aunt Eleanor.”
Lord Matlock shook his hand. “I am exceedingly proud of you, Fitzwilliam.”
Oddly enough, the earl had seemed rather less than pleased when Darcy had announced his betrothal to the daughter of an unknown gentleman of modest means, but that reaction hadn’t been surprising. His uncle had always wanted him to marry an heiress, as he had done in his youth.
“I’ll always strive to make you proud, Uncle Alexander.”
After escorting his family to the front pew, he returned to the vestibule.
Richard pulled him aside. “I suspect Mama is the force behind this appearance,” he said in a hushed voice. “When I showed her your letter about Catherine’s visit, she was determined to have the last word on the matter.”
Time seemed to pass in a blur as the guests arrived and greeted him and Charles at the door. One guest, however, took immediate exception.
“Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley, for heaven’s sake. What are you doing here?” Mrs Fletcher said in a frenzied voice.
He was about to give her the obvious answer, but she interrupted, “No, no, sir. You must await your brides at the altar. Off with you both,” she said, chasing them away.
Mr Fletcher pressed his lips together to suppress a laugh and shrugged his shoulders at his wife’s outburst.
Unfamiliar with this particular wedding mandate, Darcy dared not invite her disfavour, nor the wedding gods, if they existed.
“We still have some time until the ceremony is scheduled to begin,” the vicar said with an indulgent smile. “Come and wait with me in my office. My clerk will notify us of the Bennets’ arrival.”
While they waited, Richard and Henry engaged the vicar in polite conversation. Darcy repeatedly checked his watch, adjusted his signet ring, straightened his shirt cuffs, and patted the pocket that held the ring he’d chosen for Elizabeth.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, a small bell chimed, and the vicar rose. “That’s our cue, gentlemen.”
They followed the vicar to the sanctuary, and Darcy nodded a silent greeting to Mrs Bennet, the Gardiners, and the delinquent Lydia, who appeared vastly pleased with herself. Mary and Kitty were oddly absent, but then he remembered that they were to be the bridesmaids.
“The door is opening,” Richard said. “Mary and Kitty are first.”
Darcy had decided that instead of watching Elizabeth approach, he would savour that moment of anticipation until she appeared at his side. He kept his eyes forward and imagined his bride walking down the long aisle to meet him.
“She’s at the door with her father and sister,” Richard said.
The music swelled, the guests stood, and the vicar nodded his earnest appreciation of the approaching brides.
Unable to resist, Darcy turned and beheld Elizabeth’s gleaming eyes and radiant smile. He would remember that exquisite moment for the rest of his life. When she reached him, he turned to face the vicar, who began the marriage ceremony. “Dearly beloved…”
Although Darcy had attended numerous weddings over the years, he hadn’t paid much attention to the proceedings.
Today, however, he listened to every word.
He repeated after the vicar, vowed to love Elizabeth forever, placed the gold band on her finger, and held her hand throughout the remainder of the ceremony.
At the end of the wedding, the vicar addressed the guests. “I am honoured to present Mr and Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy, and Mr and Mrs Charles Bingley.”
The pianist played the Wedding March as he escorted his beautiful bride up the aisle. When they reached the vestibule, a craggy, white-bearded monk emerged from the shadows and bowed.
Darcy bowed in acknowledgment, and the ancient sage disappeared. It happened in an instant, but Darcy had no doubt of what he had seen.
“Was that him?” Elizabeth inquired.
“It was.”
The elderly mystic had returned to acknowledge that Darcy had attended to his warnings.
It had been a difficult lesson, but he had been properly humbled by the exchange.
What’s more, he believed that without the wiseman’s severe reproofs, so well applied, he wouldn’t have been worthy of Elizabeth’s hand nor her heart.
He would be forever thankful to that mysterious man who had illuminated his insufficiencies and pretensions, forced him to reflect on his behaviour, and make improvements to his character.
Although Darcy hadn’t fully appreciated the monk’s methods at the time, he had been the means of uniting him with his lovely enchantress.
***
Dear Mr Collins,
I have enclosed your previous letter, which I am convinced was written in a fit of pique, and never meant to be sent.
Also enclosed is a newspaper clipping which may interest you.
Yours, etc.,
F. Darcy
London Gazette
27 December 1811
On Monday last, at St Mary’s Church in Meryton, Hertfordshire, Mr Fitzwilliam Darcy, esteemed gentleman of Grosvenor Street in Mayfair, and Pemberley in Derbyshire, was united in Holy Matrimony to Miss Elizabeth Bennet, daughter of Mr Thomas Bennet of Longbourn.
The ceremony was attended by a select company of family and intimate friends, including Lord and Lady Matlock.
Afterwards, the party adjourned to Longbourn House for an elegant repast.
******