Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Jane’s bonnet was perfect. Her gown was perfect.
Her hair was perfect. Jane was perfect. And her perfection was not only well-deserved, but well-timed, for the groom was waiting with nervous anticipation at the altar as Elizabeth’s beloved sister strode down the aisle towards him with more confidence than Elizabeth knew her capable of.
Elizabeth would never be so perfect. She had not the looks nor the patience for choosing the right fabrics or sitting for the perfect hairstyle. The planning for this wedding and her role in it had been mercifully done without her, save two fittings and this morning’s attempt to tame her locks.
Perfection did not matter. Her future did not matter. She had wanted Mr Darcy, but she had chased him away, and now she would surely be the unmarried Bennet sister, destined to care for her aging mother, if she and her mother did not murder one another first.
Mr Darcy stood at the altar as well, serving as Mr Bingley’s best man.
He was as handsome, and grim, as ever. Would it hurt him to smile on the merry day of his closest friend’s wedding?
It likely would. Joy did not seem to come to him naturally.
Yet she had brought him joy, and he had brought joy to her.
Oh, dash it all! Why did they speak to each other as they had?
She began to tremble and then froze. This day was about her sister, and she would devote every breath of it to her sister’s happiness! No more wallowing or doubting or-or…Mr Darcy-ing. Enough. Jane was marrying at last, and the groom was perfect for her.
She smiled and took Jane’s bouquet, forcing her eyes down when Mr Darcy’s met hers, ignoring the combination of anger and desire that it stirred within her. She looked instead to her mother, sobbing in the front pew, and smiled even wider.