“Married life clearly agrees with you, Bingley,” Darcy responded to his boyish enthusiasm with a laugh.

“Oh, she is such an angel! I cannot begin to tell you,” he said. “But what of you? Are you nervous? I could hardly hold myself together yesterday.”

“Nervous?” Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Far from it! I feel relieved.”

Bingley shook his head. “You would have to be different from every other bridegroom in history, wouldn’t you?”

“Most bridegrooms have not suffered through the year that I have, then! I was nervous when I was fighting falling in love; I was unhappy pretending she did not matter to me after we left Hertfordshire. There were several good days, I admit, between when I first decided to propose to her and when she refused me, but then there were months of misery, then months of uncertainty. Then, since she accepted me, there has been the small matter of continual frustration—no, Bingley, I feel no anxiety today!”

“You are in a good mood!” said Bingley admiringly. “I believe that is more than I have ever heard from you on this subject.”

“Yes, well, that is because it is over now,” Darcy replied. “Or, more accurately, it will be if they ever decide to begin the service.”

Bingley eyed him critically. “I do believe I detect just the slightest tinge of nervousness there, after all!”

Darcy fixed a hard stare on his friend. “I had been under the impression that your job today was to make things easier for me, but perhaps I was mistaken.” Even in jest, however, he could not maintain a serious mien on this of all days, and broke into a smile.

“You’ll do,” said Bingley.

They heard a rustle from inside the nave, and the deacon gestured to them to enter and take their places. Darcy scanned the church, seeing the families assembled, and exchanged a warm smile with Georgiana, then was immediately distracted as he caught a glimpse of Elizabeth, lovelier than ever in a gown elegant in its simplicity, on her father’s arm.

The service began, and as she came to stand at his left hand, he glanced at her to see a warm look in her beautiful eyes and a small playful smile hovering around her lips. He could not believe this moment for which he had hoped for so long was finally coming to pass.

The words of the service flowed past him almost unheeded as he found himself caught by thoughts of the indirect journey that had led them together to this moment. He was almost startled when he heard the parson say to him, “Wilt thou have this woman 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 other, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?”

“I will,” he said, his eyes speaking volumes more as he gazed at Elizabeth.

“Wilt thou have this man 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 other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?”

Elizabeth’s smile grew as she glanced at him, reminding him of his words the night before, as she said, “I will.”

“Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?”

Mr. Bennet’s eyes were suspiciously shiny as he kissed the cheek of his favorite daughter before giving her hand to the parson, who then placed it in Darcy’s hand. He gave it a slight squeeze of reassurance, as his dark eyes captured her own. She felt that she could drown in that gaze, and sought to show him her own heart in the same manner as she listened to him repeat his vows. Then it was her turn, and she watched him take in a deep breath as she took him to be her wedded husband.

They might have been alone in the world as Darcy took his mother’s wedding ring from the parson and slid it onto her finger. He could not immediately make himself say the words, so caught was he by the overwhelming sensation of fulfillment he felt as he held the ring there, and knew that at last she was his forever. His voice was low but firm as he said, each word charged with meaning, “With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

The parson had to cue them twice to kneel, which was little surprise to him as he had had ample opportunity over the previous two days to discover how very inattentive this particular couple could be. He recited the prayer over them, then joined their hands together again and pronounced, “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder.”

The words echoed in Darcy’s mind as his hand tightened on hers. His lovely Elizabeth! How long he had waited for this, and through what trials—but it was all worth it now. The joy that filled his heart was all-consuming. He could think of nothing but the warm look in her eyes, the smile on her lips, and the many years he would have to enjoy them.

*   *   *

The wedding breakfast was a pleasant but brief affair, since the newlyweds wished to depart early enough to reach London while there was still daylight remaining. The time went very quickly, and almost before she realized it, Elizabeth was standing outside Longbourn bidding her family farewell before setting off in the handsome coach-and-four at the gate. The farewells were not protracted, as the Darcys planned to stop by Longbourn briefly en route to Pemberley the following week to collect Georgiana.

Elizabeth looked up with slight shock at the coach, which was certainly the most elegant conveyance she had ever ridden in, as Darcy handed her in. She settled herself gingerly on the well-padded seat as Darcy entered and sat opposite her, as propriety dictated. With a glance at her, he signaled the driver to depart.

They had not gone far beyond Longbourn when Darcy, smiling, said, “Well, Mrs. Darcy?”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Well, Mr. Darcy?”

“Would it be indelicate to inquire as to the cause of that amused smile upon your face?”

“In fact, I was contemplating what a disappointment I would be to Miss Bingley. When I saw this lovely coach, I realized that I have been failing throughout our courtship to pay any heed to the question of your wealth. And since I have been thinking only of being with you, I have managed to utterly ignore the fact that I have no idea where we are going, since I have never so much as asked which part of London your house is in, nor what it is like. I believe that Miss Bingley would find my priorities quite unacceptable.”

Darcy smiled. “Our house,” he corrected.

“That will take some getting used to,” said Elizabeth. “You will have to forgive me if I cannot take it in all at once.”

“Surely you cannot have forgotten already—‘with all my worldly goods I thee endow?’” he teased. “Come now, you can manage it. Just try saying it—our house, our coach, our finances.”

“Our quarrels, our embarrassing relations,” Elizabeth shot back cheerfully.

“Don’t tell me you have already forgotten the part where you promised to obey me,” he said with mock seriousness.

“Completely and totally forgotten,” she agreed. “However, I have an excellent memory for the ‘love and cherish’ part.”

“In that case, perhaps you would not be overly shocked if I asked to sit next to you instead of all the way over here?”

“I must admit, I do not shock as easily as I did a few months ago. I fear you have had a pernicious influence on me.”

Darcy laughed as he carefully shifted himself across the coach. He put his arm around Elizabeth, who promptly nestled in close to him. “Mmm. I think I am going to like being married to you,” he said.

“Well, if not, you have picked an unfortunate time to realize it, sir!”

He kissed her hair. “I am completely satisfied, my love.”

“I am relieved to hear it,” she said. Reaching down, she drew out a small package. “I have something for you,” she added, a bit shyly, as she handed it to him.

“For me?” he inquired, surprised.

“Yes, it is a… umm, replacement. When I left Lambton that day, I took something of yours with me that I never returned.”

“Besides my heart?” He smiled warmly at her.

“That I cannot replace, nor would I have any wish to do so! This is something much simpler.”

Opening the package, he discovered that it held a handkerchief, embroidered with his initials within a small circle of flowers. Elizabeth reached over and touched the flowers. “They are forget-me-nots and sweet williams,” she explained. “Do you remember that day we walked in the garden and spoke of flowers for each other?”

“Vividly.” He took her hand in his. “Thank you, my dearest. I shall treasure it, not least as a sign that you thought of me while we were apart. But you also left something behind in Lambton.”

“Besides my heart?”

He could not resist kissing her lingeringly. “Besides that.” From his pocket he produced a neatly folded handkerchief that she recognized as her own. “It has been my constant companion, and no, you may not have it back. I have grown quite fond of it.”

“Then it is yours, my love. You may have noticed that I chose to replace, and not return, yours. I think I shall put that under the category of those worldly goods with which you endowed me earlier.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow at her. “You are willing to accept the handkerchief, but not the house, the coach, or the finances?” he teased. “Will you always be this easy to please?”

“Quite likely, since the only thing I truly want is you, and have no need for your worldly goods. Although I might make an exception for the grounds at Pemberley, as I am looking forward to many long walks through them.”

“The handkerchief and the grounds at Pemberley? That seems a reasonable enough request. They are yours, along with my heart, and all my other worldly goods,” he said playfully. “So, would you like to hear about our London house or not?”

“I suppose I must, mustn’t I?”

“Let me see… it is about a block from the docks, a dark, drafty place. The roof leaks, and—” His teasing was interrupted in a most pleasant way.

“There is only one crucial thing I need to know about this terrible place,” said Elizabeth as she drew back. “How will the housekeeper respond to my presence?”

“Mrs. Adams? She will take one look at you and decide where you will fit in her extremely organized household, and I strongly suggest gracious submission on your part. Mrs. Reynolds at Pemberley at least allows the illusion that I am—or we are—in charge, but there is no question as to who runs the household in London.”

“I find it hard to picture you submitting graciously, Fitzwilliam!”

Hard to picture! What did she think he had been doing since he met her? Well, perhaps some of it involved submitting less than graciously. There were so many possible responses to her comment, nearly all of them provocative, and he knew full well where that would lead. Desire rose in him, and he briefly regretted sitting so close to her, but managed to stay still by sheer willpower. He had strict plans for his behavior on this particular day, and, in deference to his desire to retain some degree of sanity when they reached London, those plans did not include permitting any passionate interludes while they were alone in a coach for two hours. Finally he forced himself to say, “I know better than to argue with Mrs. Adams!”

She tilted her head to look up at him with a bewitching smile. “I shall look forward to seeing that.”

The temptation to kiss her was nearly overpowering. Sighing, he settled himself back for what was clearly going to seem like a very long journey.

*   *   *

Darcy’s townhouse did not disappoint; it demonstrated the same elegance and good taste which had characterized Pemberley. Elizabeth could still not quite credit that she would be living in such lovely homes, and felt disconcerted as she was greeted by each servant in turn—and there were so many of them!—as Mrs. Darcy. The alarming Mrs. Adams turned out to be a plump, motherly woman who greeted Darcy with obvious affection and welcomed Elizabeth warmly.

After a brief period of refreshment, Darcy took Elizabeth on a tour of the house to which she attended with great interest, though she was continually more distracted by thoughts of the night that lay ahead. She was not surprised to find an extensive and clearly well-used library; she could picture Darcy spending hours there. She paused in the dining room, where a portrait of a lovely woman bearing a distinct resemblance to Georgiana graced the wall over the mantle. She looked over her shoulder at Darcy. “Is that your mother?” she asked.