Darcy & Elizabeth: Hope of the Future: Darcy Saga Prequel Duo Book 2

by Sharon Lathan

  Ah! The laughter they needed—and precisely as the carriage jolted to a halt. Faces merry and eyes sparkling, they clasped their proud papa’s arms, ascended the stone steps spanning the entrance to the church, and stopped before the massive solid oak doors.

  All Souls Trinity Church, Meryton

  ~ The Wedding ~

  In a separate room inside of the church, the two grooms waited for the agreed upon signal, yet were still startled when it came. The sharp rap on the door was immediately followed by the appearance of Colonel Fitzwilliam’s solemn face squeezing into the gap.

  “It. Is. Time,” he intoned sonorously. “Thy brides hath cometh and shalt soon enter the holy church. Thy attendance is requested forthwith.” Then he grinned and shoved the door wide.

  Bingley chuckled, or tried to. To Darcy, it sounded more like a weak wheeze, not that he paid much attention to Bingley or his cousin. Calmly passing by the still-smirking Richard, Darcy walked into the church with Bingley a step behind. Together they crossed the transept until standing to the left of the priest. Reverend Jenney, resplendent in his official robes, stood in the center of the chancel, his hands folded over a well-used Book of Common Prayer. He greeted the grooms with one bob of his head and the tiniest possible lift of his lips before returning his eyes to the closed doors at the far end of the nave.

  For weeks, Darcy had passively listened to chatter about the desire to adorn the ancient brick church with flowers, ribbons, and candles. Frankly, he didn't care about the chosen flowers, the ribbon colors, or if there were decorations at all for that matter. His only desire was to marry in the Pemberley Chapel, but even there, he would not have expressed an opinion on the decor.

  However, when he detected Mrs. Bennet’s dismay over the rigid Reverend Jenney’s refusal to permit garnishing the pews with even a single flower and later ascertained that Jane and Elizabeth were saddened by this as well, he decided to intervene. In truth, as a man of deep faith, he tended to agree with the parish priest on maintaining the solemn atmosphere befitting a sacred place of worship. Then again, were not flowers God’s gift of beauty and color? What harm was there in a few ribbons and fragrant blooms if he promised to restrain Mrs. Bennet?

  Now, as he swept his eyes over the interior, he was thankful for his powers of persuasion. Mrs. Bennet, Darcy had to admit, had far exceeded his expectations, the resulting floral display tasteful and modest by anyone’s standards. She had beautifully arranged small clusters of winter blooms with narrow ribbons of white and gold tied around them. Adorning the aisle end of each pew was one bouquet, in the center of which was a single, tall, lit candle. The overall effect was stunning and elegant.

  These details he registered swiftly and might not have noticed at all if not for repeatedly reminding himself that this day was special as no other day in his entire life had been or would ever be. He would later regret it if he could not recall these seemingly minor elements. Thus, after first checking the main door and ensuring it was still closed, he scanned the church wall to wall. Peering into the pews, he acknowledged his family, smiling at each one.

  Lastly, he swiveled his eyes to the left, where a few paces beyond Charles Bingley stood the two individuals chosen as the official witnesses.

  As the only man well known to both Bingley and Darcy, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam had been the obvious choice as groom’s attendant and official witness. Even if Bingley hadn’t been well acquainted with the colonel, or had desired another gentleman as his designated attendant, Darcy would have insisted on his cousin for himself. The two men teased each other mercilessly, but they were closer and dearer to each other than any two real brothers could be. Dressed in his full colonel’s regalia, medals shining upon his chest, Richard cut a striking figure.

  It was no wonder Mrs. Bennet spent as much time staring at him as she did the two men about to wed her daughters. Nor was Darcy surprised to note that Kitty wore an expression that was a cross between flirtatious and pouting. Neither she or her mother had been thrilled at Jane and Lizzy’s designated bridal attendant, but no amount of begging changed their minds.

  As the next eldest Bennet daughter, Mary was the proper choice. However, Darcy knew that, beyond propriety, they had wanted Mary for her soberness and deep faith. For both, the latter especially, Darcy was pleased with the selection. The Longbourn maids had managed to talk Mary into styling her hair, adding a bit of jewelry, and wearing a dress with some lace and frilly bits, the result making her almost pretty. Kitty would have presented a more attractive picture next to the dignified, uniformed Colonel Fitzwilliam, but with Mary at his side, there was no chance of coquetry causing either to forget their solemn purpose.

  The dull clang of the bell high above in the church’s tower signaled the ten o’clock hour. Darcy and Bingley swung their eyes immediately to the entrance. Colonel Fitzwilliam’s timing proved to be perfect, allotting the grooms exactly enough time to assume their proper positions and canvass the scene without a spare moment to become impatient or engulfed by nerves. At the fifth chime, the double doors slowly swung inward, the brilliant sunlight streaming inside. For the minuscule span between the fifth and sixth chime, the portal was empty. Then, as the sixth stroke rang crisp and clear through the open archway, three figures appeared.

  Darcy doubted an earthquake could have torn his gaze away from Elizabeth.

  “Keep breathing, Darcy.”

  “Same to you, my friend.”

  Before the tenth, and final chime had faded into silence, he realized that Bingley’s whispered words had not been an attempt at humor but were words of advice meant for them both. The vision of Elizabeth, his bride, had wrest the air from his lungs. It took him several seconds to recognize that the stars swirling in front of him were not solely the result of the magical moment.

  My God in Heaven—she is stunning.

  One hand lying daintily atop her proud father’s left arm, Elizabeth glided down the aisle, a pure vision of flawless beauty. Her rich, coffee-colored eyes sparkled with the unique blend of vivaciousness, intelligence, and wit that had captivated him the second he’d beheld her at the Meryton Assembly so long ago. Of her many exquisite features, Darcy adored her eyes above all. Today especially, her superlative eyes shone with transcendent love directed solely at him. He could happily stare into her eyes for eternity, and if not for a hushed voice buried inside his head reminding him to savor every detail, Darcy would never have been able to look away.

  Somehow, he did and was struck anew with breathless bedazzlement.

  Elizabeth wore a gown of creamy-white silk gauze under a transparent overdress of Madras lace woven with tiny, vaguely heart-shaped silk-satin accents. The squared bodice was modestly cut, trimmed with delicate lace and champagne-gold satin ribbons sewn into a beautiful design of narrow horizontal bands and vertical scallops, which curved over her full breasts, down the front to the hemline. The slightly puffed, capped sleeves were embellished with the same satin ribbon and lace trim. Spanning her slim waist was a sash of deepest gold tied into a bow at her back.

  Her luxuriant tresses were styled in an elaborate weave of curls and braids with thin gold ribbons entwined and tiny buds of baby’s breath and lavender inserted. In her right hand, his mother’s engagement ring sparkling in the light, she held a bouquet of honeysuckle, lavender, and, to his utter amazement, clusters of cobalt-blue Jacob’s ladder. The splash of blue with the purple was sublime and complemented the sapphire-and-diamond necklace encircling her creamy, slender neck.

  From the top of her coiffed hair to the tips of the white satin slippers peeking from underneath the hem of her gown, she was extraordinary. The proper names and descriptors for Elizabeth’s wedding ensemble were largely unknown to Darcy, of course. His awed appreciation was for the combined effect, which was devastating to his senses and made it extremely difficult to catalog the specifics. In his urgency to have her close, the time from her entrance until she was standing before him felt like an hour, but there still wasn’t enoug
h time to absorb her perfection.

  Mr. Bennet stopped at the end of the aisle, and only then did Darcy remember Jane was on his right! The oversight, under different circumstances, would have mortified him, but at present he could not muster the slightest remorse. Darcy doubted Bingley was paying any heed to Elizabeth either. Eyes locked onto his bride, he waited for the proper ceremonial initiation, a task he found exceedingly difficult to do patiently. Judging by the expression on Elizabeth’s face, and her involuntary step forward, she also struggled to remember the rituals. Wanting to laugh aloud, he curled his lips into a soft smile instead.

  * * *

  “Remember, don’t signal to open the doors until the exact moment I ordered.”

  At Mr. Bennet’s reminder, the young curate standing on the top of the outside steps in front of the church’s door folded his hands in a praying posture and inclined his head.

  “What are you up to, Papa?” Jane asked.

  “You two want to make a grand entrance, do you not? Trust me,” he added, winking. “You two just concentrate on breathing. I can’t drag both of you down the aisle.”

  Waiting for whatever he had up his sleeve, the brides took his advice. As they breathed slowly and deeply, keeping themselves calm, the remaining handful of minutes ticked away. Despite expecting it, at the reverberating gong from the bell high above their heads, they both jolted a foot in the air.

  “Another reason to wait a bit longer,” Mr. Bennet drily noted, Lizzy and Jane giggling with a slightly hysterical edge. At the fifth chime, he nodded to the curate, who yanked on the rope beside the left door. Before the echo faded, the doors were already swinging inward.

  “Not yet,” Mr. Bennet murmured when they instinctively shifted their weight forward. “Grand entrance, remember?”

  The sixth chime struck and with a lowly commanded, “Now,” Mr. Bennet led them over the threshold and into the church. He paused again at the invisible line separating the narthex from the long aisle that divided the nave into equal halves. Whatever additional dramatics her playful papa had planned, Lizzy no longer cared. Her gaze had instantly snapped to the other end of the aisle, and after that she saw nothing except for William.

  How handsome he is. And he is mine—all mine.

  He wore an impeccably designed and tailored coat of merino wool, and coal-black and form-fitting breeches in the same material secured just below his knees with gold buckles. White stockings encased his muscular legs, of course, and his polished black leather shoes gleamed. As she decreased the distance between them, the extraordinary design embroidered over the entire front of his ivory satin waistcoat came into sharper focus. It was ornate and colorful, as she knew was not his ordinary preference, but utterly stupendous and suitably unique for this singular day.

  Georgiana’s birthday gift, the diamond-shaped stickpin embedded with diamonds, amber, and deep-blue sapphires was eye-catching in contrast to the stark-white cravat. Not until later would she notice the sapphire cufflinks, remarking then that their ensembles were impressively coordinated.

  A majority of the minutiae escaped her initial scrutiny. She might have floated on air or passed by empty pews for all that she was aware of during her passage down the aisle. As stunning as the figure he cut, it was his face that captured all her attention and implanted into her memory in sharp detail.

  Hundreds of times she had seen his absolute love for her expressed within his blue eyes and unguarded visage. None of those times prepared her for the raw emotions visible now. Tears were prickling the insides of her eyelids and her heart thudding against her ribs. She sucked in her breath, unaware they had reached the halting point until her father tightened his arm as a subtle reminder. Heeding the clue, she stopped midstep, emitting a feeble laugh, which then reminded her to heed her father’s earlier advice.

  Concentrate on breathing, Lizzy.

  Then William curled his full, kissable lips into a soft smile, and she forgot all about breathing once again.

  * * *

  “Dearly beloved,” Reverend Jenney boomed, “we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together these men and these women in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocency, signifying unto us the mystical union that is between Christ and His Church; which holy estate Christ adorned and beautified with His presence and first miracle that He wrought in Cana of Galilee, and is commended of Saint Paul to be honorable among all men, and therefore is not by any to be taken in hand unadvisedly, lightly, or wantonly, to satisfy men's carnal lusts and appetites like brute beasts that have no understanding; but reverently, discreetly, advisedly, soberly, and in the fear of God; duly considering the causes for which matrimony was ordained.”

  After a short pause—even priests can be dramatic at times—he continued, “First, marriage was ordained for the procreation of children to be brought up in the fear and nurture of the Lord, and to the praise of His Holy Name. Secondly, marriage was ordained for a remedy against sin and to avoid fornication, that such persons as have not the gift of continency might marry, and keep themselves undefiled members of Christ's body. Thirdly, marriage was ordained for the mutual society, help, and comfort that the one ought to have of the other, both in prosperity and adversity: into which holy estate these two couples present come now to be joined. Therefore, if any man can show any just cause why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace.”

  This time, the pause was longer and not for dramatic effect. The wait of some two minutes, while rarely resulting in anyone speaking out, was a serious obligation. When not a peep was heard from amongst the assembly, Reverend Jenney closed the Book of Common Prayer to train his stern gaze on the brides and grooms. Searching each of their faces one by one, he recited the next series of memorized lines.

  “I require and charge each of you, as you will answer at the dreadful day of judgment when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if any of you know of any impediment as to why you may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, you do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that so many as are coupled together otherwise than God's Word doth allow, are not joined together by God, neither is their matrimony lawful.”

  Thankfully, the priest did not drag out the process. With an abrupt change in demeanor, he smiled, flipped the book open, and turned to Bingley and Jane. As the eldest Bennet and the first to become betrothed, they had all agreed it only proper for them to speak their vows first.

  Darcy managed to pull his eyes away from Elizabeth after a brief struggle and was somewhat amazed to discover that observing his friend and very-soon-to-be sister declare their solemn promises was profoundly moving. The mutual expressions of raw devotion were, Darcy knew, a mirror image of the emotions he was feeling.

  The display increased the joy in his soul, and he recognized the same had touched Elizabeth when he again beheld her face.

  His heart pounded forcefully, and flutters of happiness rushed through his body. At long last, the time had arrived. The sacred words, sweeter than any he had ever heard outside of Elizabeth’s “yes” to his proposal, were now to be uttered.

  “Fitzwilliam Alexander James Darcy, wilt thou have this woman, Elizabeth Nicole Bennet, to thy wedded wife, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health? And, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”

  “I will,” he enunciated crisply, eyes fixed on her face. With all my heart and soul, to beyond my life on earth.

  “Elizabeth Nicole Bennet, wilt thou have this man, Fitzwilliam Alexander James Darcy, to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health? And, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall l
ive?”

  “I will,” she declared as firmly as he. And then she smiled.

  Darcy’s knees nearly buckled.

  Addressing Mr. Bennet, the priest asked, “Who giveth these women to be married to these men?”

  “I, Thomas Bennet, father of Jane and Elizabeth Bennet, do giveth these women to be bound in holy matrimony to these men.”

  On cue, Elizabeth released her father’s arm as he turned to his eldest daughter. After bestowing a kiss to Jane’s right hand, he then placed it upon Reverend Jenney’s right hand and stepped back to Elizabeth’s side. At a nod from the priest, Mr. Bingley laid his right hand atop Jane’s. The final vows of bonding were repeated, first by Charles and then by Jane, followed by the ring placement ritual.

  Once again, though Darcy had anticipated being frustrated having to wait for Charles and Jane, he was overjoyed. His sincere affection for his longtime friend meant that his delight in Charles finding his true mate was genuine. Love was a gift, as he knew better than most, and he truly could not have been happier for his young friend. Additionally, as with the declaration portion of the ceremony, his heart leaped to unimaginable heights as it was now their turn to take the final vows which would irrevocably bind them forever.

  After Elizabeth’s petite hand was laid atop the priest’s, Darcy eagerly covered it with his palm and curled his long fingers over it, loosely clutching. His penetrating gaze on Elizabeth, he repeated slowly and clearly, “I, Fitzwilliam Alexander James Darcy, take thee, Elizabeth Nicole Bennet, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forth, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness, and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance: and thereto I plight thee my troth.”

  Glistening tears had formed in Elizabeth’s eyes, her rapid blinks stopping all but one, which escaped the corner of her left eye. Darcy yearned to wipe it away, for no reason other than to touch her precious face, but he resisted the urge. Surprisingly, she repeated her vows with only a faint tremor.