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Anna Elizabeth Darcy married her true love on a bright, sunny September day. Every church pew was filled with family and friends who had traveled from various counties to be a part of the celebration. Elizabeth glanced around to see each of her sisters, save Lydia, ensconced with their husbands and children. She was pleased to see how happy they were and thrilled that they had all made the trip to share this special day. It was pleasant to have everyone together again. After taking in the sight of those assembled, Elizabeth scanned the room to ensure nothing was amiss. The decorations were beautiful, the candles glowing, and the bridegroom was standing proudly next to the vicar.
Once satisfied that all was in place, Elizabeth looked to her left to see her mother conversing animatedly to Bennet as her other sons talked quietly amongst themselves. Grandmother and grandson had always shared a special relationship. Among all of Mrs. Bennet's grandchildren, Bennet was the one who indulged her the most. They could sit for hours discussing every conceivable subject while laughing at secret jokes. The family had always perceived their relationship as odd considering that Bennet was very much his father's son—quiet, aloof, and plainly reserved. But the Darcys were heartened by the love of the grandmother and child.
Murmurs filled the church, pulling Elizabeth from her musings. Rising and turning around, Elizabeth gasped, bringing her hand to her heart. Instantly her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked rapidly to prevent their spilling down her cheeks, as she refused to allow them to blur the vision before her. Standing on the threshold were father and daughter looking at each other with such love and adoration that it took her breath away. Rays of sunshine streamed through the stained-glass windows producing a rainbow of color, while the light bursting through the entranceway created a halo of love surrounding the duo. Elizabeth had never seen anything more beautiful in her life.
In that moment, Anna Beth turned her loving gaze upon her mother, and Elizabeth raised the hand that was resting over her heart to her lips, kissing them lightly before tilting them toward her daughter in a final farewell to Miss Darcy. Elizabeth could see the peace that filled Anna Beth as she and her father walked the journey to the altar. And moreover, she could see Darcy's mask was firmly in place. It was not the stony expression he wore at times while in public, but one of pure control. She recognized his struggle, for she was experiencing a similar struggle. But she would be there the moment her husband let go of his daughter's arm, to offer comfort and assurance that all would be well. As Darcy approached Elizabeth, he gazed upon her with a look she knew well—a look that said 'I love you' without the spoken words. With as much calm as possible, she smiled and mouthed 'I love you' earning a small smile from her husband.
Once the pair reached their destination, those in attendance sat down. Elizabeth listened to the vicar speaking—the same vicar who had christened Anna Beth eighteen years prior. He spoke of the sanctity of marriage and praised the bride and groom. And when he finally asked, "Who gives the bride away?" Elizabeth's resolve almost broke.
Sitting next to her, Mrs. Bennet dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, sniffling slightly. She always enjoyed a beautiful wedding with all the flowers and lace and the wedding breakfast festivities afterwards. Such a grand time she always had and today would be no exception. She felt so blessed to be able to attend and only wished Mr. Bennet had been able to experience it with her. In moments such as these, she missed her husband the most. He would have been as proud as she of their daughter Elizabeth.
Elizabeth. Sighing, Mrs. Bennet turned to watch her daughter. She could tell Elizabeth was forcing herself to be strong by the way her chest heaved as she willed the tears not to come. Why must she always be the pillar of strength amongst her family? Why could she and her husband not grieve and rejoice together as it should be? Mrs. Bennet knew why, and she knew what must be done.
When the vicar addressed Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Bennet reached over to grasp Elizabeth's hand. Startled, Elizabeth glanced down at their joined hands and then turned to face her mother. Mrs. Bennet looked into Elizabeth's eyes conveying as much strength as her old soul allowed, wanting more than anything for her to know she was not alone, that there was someone who would watch over her and support her when she needed it the most.
Elizabeth tightened her grip on their clasped hands. Mother and daughter smiled, and Elizabeth released the tears she had held at bay since waking that morning. As the tears flowed, hearts nearly burst with love, and the thing Elizabeth most wished for—a mother's bond—was complete.
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A Mother's Love Page 3
