Page 140 of Ashes and Understanding
Elizabeth’s breath caught when she saw Darcy turn toward her.
He looked devastatingly handsome in his dark coat and crisp white cravat, his eyes never leaving hers as she made her way up the aisle on her father’s arm.
As she drew nearer, she could see it in his face—love, devotion, and awe. Her knees wobbled slightly, but she smiled and held his gaze.
Bingley, beaming from ear to ear, looked every inch the man in love as Jane approached him.
The vicar smiled warmly at them all, and the ceremony began.
Elizabeth scarcely heard the words—it was all a blur of vows and promises and tender glances. But when Darcy took her hand in his, she felt the weight of it, the certainty, the deep rightness of it.
When he said, “I do,” his voice was rich and steady, and she thought her heart would burst with happiness.
When it was her turn, she managed a clear, confident, “I do,” though her voice trembled slightly with joy.
And then it was done. They were husband and wife.
Mr. Bennet wiped his eyes discreetly as the congregation erupted in cheers and applause.
As they stepped out into the snowy morning together, Darcy pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her, and whispered against her ear:
“My wife…now I can kiss you whenever I like.”
She laughed through tears of happiness. “I hope you intend to start now.”
He did not need any further encouragement. Right there on the steps of the church, with snowflakes clinging to her lashes and the morning sun gleaming off the fresh white drifts, he kissed her thoroughly—slowly, reverently, and with a passion so deep it made the world spin away. Elizabeth clung to him, feeling as though her very soul had found its home.
Around them, the crowd laughed and cheered again, but she barely heard it.
The snow swirled around them in a sparkling dance, and Elizabeth knew that whatever fires may burn in the future, she would face them all—so long as she faced them with him. Arm in arm, they made their way to the waiting carriage, Darcy’s hand resting over hers with tender protectiveness.
If they arrived at Stoke House with swollen lips and hair slightly mussed, Darcy’s cravat a touch askew and Elizabeth’s cheeks glowing far more than the brisk weather warranted, no one dared comment. The laughter and glances were fond rather than mocking.
And as they stepped into the warm, welcoming brightness of the Gardiners’ ballroom, Elizabeth gasped. It had been transformed into a beautiful celebration of light and warmth. A roaring fire blazed in the hearth, wreaths of holly and ivy decked the walls, and a long table groaned under the weight of meats, pastries, jellies, fruits, and pies. Crystal glasses sparkled in the light from the chandeliers, and the air was filled with the scents of cinnamon, roasted meats, and sweet wine.
Elizabeth scarcely knew how she to get to her seat. The room swirled with smiling faces, well-wishers, and excited chatter. Mrs. Bennet, resplendent in a new gown of lavender silk, was already telling anyone who would listen about “her two marrieddaughters,” while Mr. Bennet stood at the sideboard, calmly surveying the chaos with a glass of claret in hand.
Darcy guided Elizabeth to the head of the table with a hand at the small of her back, a touch so light and yet so grounding that her heart fluttered anew. He pulled out her chair for her, bowing slightly as she took her seat, and then seated himself beside her.
Jane and Bingley sat across from them, their heads bent close together, whispering and laughing so sweetly that Elizabeth could hardly look at them without smiling herself.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, seated nearby, raised his glass in a silent toast to her and Darcy. His eyes twinkled with mischief as he mouthed,Finallyacross the table, making Elizabeth chuckle under her breath.
Wickham, sitting further down with several of the militia officers, gave her an exaggerated wink when he caught her looking, then feigned swooning against his neighbor's shoulder, causing the nearby footman to nearly drop a plate.
Elizabeth felt as though she floated above it all, light and buoyant with happiness. Yet every time she glanced sideways and caught Darcy’s gaze—so steady, so full of fierce, quiet joy—she was brought back down to earth, grounded in the miracle of the present moment.
As the meal continued, laughter and clinking glasses filled the room. Bingley rose to make a short, effusive speech about happiness and blessings, and the health of his lovely new wife. Darcy stood afterward, a little stiffer, but his voice was rich and steady.
“I have no great talent for speeches,” he began, his dark eyes locking with Elizabeth’s, “but I can say with full certainty thatthis is the happiest day of my life. I am blessed beyond anything I ever deserved.”
Elizabeth’s cheeks warmed as everyone raised their glasses in a hearty cheer.
When he sat back down, he leaned close, his breath tickling her ear.
“I am tempted to steal you away this instant,” he murmured. “I doubt anyone would dare stop me.”
She smiled, her hand finding his under the table and squeezing it tightly.
