Chapter 32
The carriage came to a stop, and Elizabeth drew in a deep breath.
The morning sun was just peeping over the horizon, painting the eastern sky with pinks and purples.
The street in front of St. George’s was currently silent and peaceful, though she knew that in a few short hours, the streets would be filled with eager souls rushing to and fro.
“Are you ready, Lizzy?” Jane asked gently.
“I am,” Elizabeth said firmly, though her eyes were misty as they looked upon her dear sister and father, who had accompanied her on the final carriage ride while she still held the name of Bennet.
“You are beautiful,” Mr. Bennet said in a gruff tone, struggling not to weep.
Only two weeks previously, he had given Jane away to Charles Bingley.
Now Elizabeth too was marrying – his precious Elizabeth, his favorite daughter.
Mr. Darcy was a wonderful man, and Bennet was certain he and Lizzy would deal very well with one another, but it was still difficult.
Swallowing down his emotion, the Bennet patriarch left the carriage and assisted his two daughters down from the carriage.
The January air was cold, but Elizabeth could not help but stand and gaze at the impressive colonnades which rose high above her head.
St. George’s was an old and beautiful church, famed across England for her architecture.
Elizabeth had never imagined that she would be married here.
“Do come in, Elizabeth,” Jane suggested, shivering in the breeze.
“Of course,” Elizabeth responded apologetically and allowed herself to be guided onto the portico which led into the church.
***
Fitzwilliam Darcy stood at the front of the sanctuary, his heart beating rapidly.
The last two weeks had been extraordinarily busy with arranging the marriage settlements and the license, preparing the mistress’s suite at Darcy House, and engaging in careful discussions with Lord and Lady Matlock.
As Richard had predicted, the Earl and his lady had been astonished and dismayed when confronted with a woman from the country as Darcy’s intended bride, but Richard had paved the way by assuring his parents that Darcy’s mind was entirely made up, and that they might as well make the best of it.
Elizabeth had done the rest; two nights previously, she had accompanied Darcy to dinner at Matlock House and proceeded to enchant Lord Matlock with her charm and intelligence.
Darcy’s uncle was still not entirely pleased because Elizabeth would not bring money into the marriage, but he had, at least, admitted that Darcy had chosen a most compatible partner.
Bingley, standing behind him, yawned and Darcy turned, raising his eyebrows.
“My apologies, Darcy,” the master of Netherfield murmured. “I am a little short on sleep.”
The most likely reason for Bingley’s lack of sleep provoked a surge of impatience in Darcy; soon he and Elizabeth would be married, and tonight...
He forced himself to look around the church, anxious to give his thoughts another direction. St. George’s was a lovely place with extensive stained glass windows, a remarkable painting of the Lord’s supper, and an impressive organ.
As if reflecting his thoughts, the organist began playing.
Darcy turned to face the back of the sanctuary where his bride would soon appear.
The large church was mostly empty; it was early in the morning for a wedding, but then St. George’s was so popular that Darcy and Elizabeth had been forced to accede to an early ceremony.
He did not mind in the least, and he was confident that Elizabeth did not either.
He was also well satisfied that there were only family and a few friends in attendance.
The Bennets and Gardiners were present save Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bingley, and Elizabeth, who would come in shortly.
Kitty and Lydia both looked drowsy but they were at least quiet.
Mr. Collins sat next to Mary, and based on the expression on the rector’s face, he was entirely at peace with Darcy’s decision to marry his fiancée’s sister.
On the other side of the aisle sat Lord and Lady Matlock, Anne de Bourgh, and Colonel Fitzwilliam.
A few other friends were present as well; companions from his Cambridge days, along with a few close acquaintances who happened to be in Town.
The music came to a swelling end, and the door at the back of the sanctuary opened.
Mrs. Jane Bingley entered, wearing a pink muslin dress, and Darcy heard Bingley catch his breath.
Mrs. Bingley was beautiful, without a doubt, but she was nothing compared to the vision walking behind her on Mr. Bennet’s arm.
Elizabeth was radiant, dressed in pale green with an overdress of white, a bouquet of hothouse roses and herbs in her hand. Her glorious brown curls peeped out from her white bonnet, her rosy lips quirked up with joy, and her dark eyes danced with lively anticipation.
She was utterly exquisite.
Jane took her place across from Bingley, and Mr. Bennet carefully transferred Elizabeth’s arm to Darcy’s.
The twosome turned to face the clergyman, who smiled down on them approvingly and began, “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here together in the sight of God to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony...”