“Yes, sir.”

Upon his valet’s departure, Darcy walked to the window and gazed out. Bracing his arms on the windowsill, he looked out over the front grounds of Pemberley, feeling a great surge of contentment. He let out an audible sigh and gave another tug on his coat.

Without bothering to knock, Colonel Fitzwilliam barged in. “Darcy!” he exclaimed. “Come join your family downstairs before the nuptials. You have spoken barely two words to my mother-in-law since we arrived. I have spent a great deal of energy since your engagement was announced making her see the good in it. And that,” the Colonel gave a tug to his cousin’s neckcloth, “after doing everything in my power to convince her to see the good in my marriage to Anne!”

“You are correct. I have neglected them far too long. I am just not inclined to participate in idle talk, as they will be of a mind to do.” Darcy paused as words escaped him as to the violence of his feelings. Softly, he said, “My heart is so full. I am happier than I can even believe myself to be.”

The Colonel smiled slyly. “Shall you be happy with such a mother-in-law as Mrs. Bennet?”

“Are you happy with yours?” Darcy truly wished to know.

Patrick laughed. “I have always been able to brush aside our aunt’s idiosyncrasies far better than you. However, from what I have seen of Mrs. Bennet’s behaviour these past few days, I would garner a suspicion that she, much like our aunt, is one who easily tries your patience.”

Darcy returned a satisfied look. “I shall fare quite admirably.”

“Hah!” Darcy’s cousin laughed. “Mrs. Bennet is conveniently ensconced four full counties away in Hertfordshire, whereas I must live at Rosings with mine.”

“Only when you are on leave. But I will give you credit in that regard, my good cousin. You are a much better man than I.” Darcy gave his cousin a slap on the back and turned to walk out.

* * *

A short while later Fitzwilliam Darcy stood with an immaculately dignified posture at the front of Pemberley church. His arms hung loosely at his side, his fingers alternately fisted and stretched open. Occasionally he slipped one hand into his coat pocket to take hold of the diamond and sapphire ring he would place on his beloved’s finger. It had once graced the finger of his mother, and soon it would be on the finger of his wife. Elizabeth had not yet seen the ring, as his wish was that she would set her eyes upon it for the first time when he placed it on her finger in the ceremony.

Darcy shifted from one foot to the other as he looked out at all the eyes presently upon him. He waited eagerly for the moment he would see Elizabeth walk toward him, knowing that at that moment, all would be well.

His cousin stood at his side, more relaxed and much more able to enjoy these moments before the wedding. Truth be told, he was rather enjoying the discomfiture Darcy was experiencing.

Darcy could do nothing more, in those torturous moments of waiting, but to allow his eyes to gaze out at the guests. They came to rest upon his cousin Anne and her mother. Now that Anne was married to Patrick, she seemed a different woman. Marriage to their cousin had been good for her and seemed to enliven and embolden her, almost producing within her a liveliness he had never seen.

Darcy peered over at his aunt, who sat proudly and rigidly at her daughter’s side. Darcy was truly grateful his cousin had persuaded her to accept both marriages. It had merely taken a veiled threat that while he and Anne would be making numerous journeys to Pemberley, she would not be accompanying them if she did not accept Elizabeth as Darcy’s wife.

Darcy glanced over at the Hamiltons and his cousin Peter. He had been indispensable when things had grown chaotic at Pemberley. When Darcy abruptly left, leaving the Willstones and Miss Matthews with unanswered questions and mild accusations, Hamilton stepped in to assist Miss Darcy in tactfully making excuses for her brother and gently addressing their concerns. He also unwittingly became the shoulder upon which Miss Matthews cried. By the time they departed Pemberley, Rosalyn was convinced that Hamilton himself had formed an ardent regard for her and she hoped to see him in Town next season.

Darcy’s fists tightened and held their grip when he noticed Wickham and Lydia. He could hardly ban him from the wedding of his sister-in-law. While they had not been invited to Pemberley in the days before the wedding, he had no choice but to allow him to come to the wedding breakfast there following the wedding. Wickham was given, however, a strict admonition that he was not to walk liberally about the place as he was once accustomed to doing.

His eyes drifted to Mrs. Bennet, and he wondered, with an honest measure of dread, how often she would expect to be a guest in their home. With an involuntary twitch of his mouth, he assured himself that Bingley would cheerfully and most graciously expect Mrs. Bennet to reside at Braedenthorn.

Darcy’s musings were interrupted when the doors at the back of the church swung open. He watched as Jane walked slowly down the aisle, glancing at her husband and smiling as she passed him. When at last Elizabeth stepped out with her uncle by her side and began to walk toward him, Darcy took in a sharp breath. She was beautiful and he let out his breath in a long sigh of contentment.

As Elizabeth walked toward him with her gloved fingers tucked through Mr. Gardiner’s arm, she saw only him, the man who would be her husband, her companion, her love, her protector and provider. In the course of the hour, she would be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

As she came near, it took every ounce of control for Darcy not to step forward to take her from her uncle’s arm. Quite believing he would, the Colonel gently reached out to stay him with his hand.

When Elizabeth reached him, they faced Reverend Grierson. He began to speak the traditional words of the ceremony; words that had been spoken thousands of times before and would be spoken again countless times in the years to come. The words were familiar to Darcy, but this time they were being spoken to him and his beloved Elizabeth. He never imagined his feelings would be so violent.

Darcy and Elizabeth spoke their vows and responded to the reverend’s questions with heartfelt earnestness. There was no doubt in each of their minds that they would love and honour, serve and obey… in sickness and in health, for richer or for poorer, till death did part them.

As a sign of their covenant and commitment, Darcy gently took her hand and slid the ring upon Elizabeth’s finger. She gasped as she caught the sparkle and brilliance of the centre diamond flanked on either side by two sapphires. She lifted her eyes, and her lips parted, wishing to express her wonder at such a gift. She spoke not a word, but her face told him the extent of her feelings.

Every fibre in Darcy’s body wished to draw Elizabeth to him and kiss those beguiling lips. He merely had to wait until that pronouncement. I can do that… he told himself. I can do that… I…

In the midst of his silent resolution, he heard a voice, “I now pronounce you man and wife. You shall no longer be known as you were, but from this day forward you shall be known as Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

At long last the moment Fitzwilliam Darcy had been waiting for was here. Elizabeth was now his wife! He looked at her first and smiled, and then leant down and kissed the lips that had earlier beckoned him and now smiled back at him. He savoured their sweetness. He wrapped his arms about her, delighting in her soft touch. If it were not for the multitude of eyes upon him, he would have been tempted to prolong the kiss. He slowly and reluctantly pulled away.

The newly wedded couple turned to face their guests and walked back up the aisle as man and wife.

* * *

Pemberley’s ballroom had been transformed into a room worthy of the celebration of its Master and his new bride. The foods they prepared and musicians that played were the finest in the county. Flowers filled every corner, topped every table, and were even placed in small vases along the wall. Candles were lit even though it was daylight, providing a warm and magical atmosphere.

After the breakfast, Darcy and Elizabeth were expected to begin the dancing. As Elizabeth faced her husband, waiting for the piece to begin, she smiled as she thought back to their dance together at the Netherfield Ball and how she had so misjudged him.

It was midafternoon when finally the couple began to say their farewells and thank everyone for coming. After receiving a celebratory send-off, the couple departed Pemberley, eager to begin their life together.

Darcy made arrangements to stay at a small cottage on a lake about an hour’s carriage ride away. As they

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