Epilogue
Bells chimed incessantly as Darcy led Elizabeth, her hand tucked into the crook of his arm, down the aisle to the church door. Wedding guests clapped and cheered. The church was full to overflowing with family, friends, and a fair number of people Darcy did not recognize.
This was not how he had imagined his wedding. He had envisioned a small ceremony at the Kympton church or perhaps wherever his bride’s family resided. He had not expected a big society wedding in the heart of London, but events had overtaken him and Elizabeth.
Footmen opened the church doors to reveal still more crowds of people waiting outside. Townspeople jostled for positions where they could secure a glimpse of the newly married couple. The noise was deafening as people cheered and vendors hawked food.
He and Elizabeth still found their fame rather fantastical.
One of the surviving Council members was the owner of a prominent London paper who found the story of the “Battle of Westminster” extremely newsworthy.
News of the event spread like wildfire throughout London and ultimately the whole country.
Elizabeth and her family were credited with saving London, nay all of Britain, from the depredations of an evil necromancer hiding among the aristocracy.
Sensationalist—and often inaccurate—descriptions of the battle had been featured in newspapers for weeks—with accompanying illustrations of Elizabeth and the others fighting hordes of wights.
The Council, embarrassed that one of their members had turned out to be a necromancer, had encouraged the celebration of Elizabeth’s prowess to demonstrate that all mancers were not evil and that some could be beneficial to the country.
Elizabeth and Darcy themselves had remained rather secluded and done nothing to encourage this adulation, but it had fed on itself.
Elizabeth had been inundated with invitations to balls and soirees.
Everyone in the ton longed to claim her acquaintance.
Although Aunt Margaret was still in mourning for her husband, she was eagerly taking credit for having “discovered” the diamond of the first water who was Elizabeth Bennet.
What a wonderful revenge on Uncle Walter; Darcy almost wished the man was alive to witness it.
When the papers had learned that Elizabeth had accepted Darcy’s proposal of marriage, their love story had become intertwined with the story of their heroism, becoming even more irresistible.
Ironically, just as Darcy had ceased to care about society’s opinion over his choice of wife, they were tripping over each other to sing her praises.
More than one man about town had told Darcy how clever he was to have secured her affection. He could only laugh.
The Bennet family was now lauded in Hertfordshire, and Bingley was considered quite prescient for proposing to Jane immediately after the events in London.
Kitty and Lydia—and even Mary—were plied with invitations to balls and dinners.
Mr. Collins related to Lady Catherine’s dinner guests that he once had the privilege of singing a marriage proposal to the great Elizabeth Bennet.
Elizabeth’s popularity had even exerted pressure upon St. James’s Palace to recognize her heroism. The Prince Regent had paused his partying long enough to invite Darcy and Elizabeth to hold their wedding banquet at the palace. They could not refuse.
Now three royal carriages awaited the wedding party outside the door to the church.
They would carry the new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, along with their assorted family members, to the palace for what promised to be a far greater wedding breakfast than they had ever envisioned.
Townspeople lined up to follow the procession—transforming it into an impromptu parade.
Darcy could only hope they would not provide too much disruption to London’s traffic.
He helped Elizabeth into the first carriage. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and the Gardiners would occupy the second carriage while the third would hold Georgiana and Elizabeth’s sisters. Richard would ride alongside on a magnificent stallion.
While Darcy was exceedingly grateful that Elizabeth had secured the recognition and acceptance she so richly deserved, the whole wedding process had been exhausting. He could not wait until tomorrow—when they would enjoy some privacy.
Elizabeth waved to the crowds as the carriage sprang forward. Darcy indicated the small bouquet of flowers in her lap. “Do you like the blooms I chose for you?”
“Indeed. They are lovely,” she said. “But I do not understand why you insisted on being the one to provide my bouquet.”
He gave her an arch smile. “You opined that flowers were an acceptable means for expressing my gratitude for saving my life.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Marriage is a rather roundabout way of supplying me with flowers!”
“Hmm. Your father said something similar. He inquired if our marriage is a roundabout way of repaying your family for their care and hospitality.”
“Surely he was joking,” Elizabeth said.
Darcy shrugged. “I am never certain with your father. I simply assured him of my deep and ardent love for you.”
“Do you still believe we should have eloped?” she asked him with a smile. When the public attention toward their wedding had grown nearly unbearable, Darcy had suggested a quick visit to Scotland.
He chuckled at their shared joke. “It would have been the perfect solution. You are so eager to travel.”
“You would not have been able to present me with such a bouquet,” she said, indicating her lovely hothouse flowers.
“Ah! I had a plan for an even more unique collection of flowers,” he said.
She leaned toward him. “I am intrigued….”
Darcy held out his hand and concentrated. The trick had taken a great deal of practice to get just right. Soon a bouquet of perfectly formed shadow flowers appeared.
Elizabeth’s lips parted. “Oh my!” She reached out and then withdrew her hand as she realized the bouquet had no substance. “It is beautiful! Thank you.”
“These flowers will never wither and die—and we may take them with us wherever we go.”
Her eyes were still fixed on the shadow blossoms. “Let us bring them on the honeymoon!”
“Certainly. I will happily provide them whenever you would like.” Waving away the bouquet, he took her hand and kissed it.
They had planned a honeymoon of several months that would take them to Ireland, Scotland, and many parts of England that Elizabeth had never seen.
Darcy was almost as excited about it as she was.
She rested her head against his shoulder. “I cannot wait for it to begin.”
Darcy was hardly less eager. “It will be quite a welcome respite before our duties descend upon us,” he observed.
They had both been offered positions on the Council—which had been sadly decimated by Matlock.
Darcy had accepted with alacrity, but Elizabeth had agreed only on the condition that the Council institute new policies to protect vivomancers.
She suspected there were other vivomancers hidden in Britain who refused to identify themselves for the same reasons she had.
Upon their return, she intended to start a Council-sponsored program to identify, train, and protect vivomancers so they could become a valuable resource for the country while ensuring their safety.
The crown’s approval of Elizabeth made it difficult for the Council to refuse her proposal.
“There is another project I am eager to start as well,” Elizabeth said, giving him a mischievous smile.
“What is that?” Darcy asked warily. They would be quite busy running Pemberley and performing Council duties. He was not eager to take on additional responsibilities.
She snuggled next to him. “Well, you know, vivomancers excel at nurturing living beings….”
“Yes.” Darcy frowned. “Would you like to get a puppy?”
Elizabeth laughed. “No. I thought we might see how a vivomancer is at creating new life.”
It took Darcy a moment to catch her meaning. “I heartily support that plan.”
The End