My Dearest Mr. Darcy

by Sharon Lathan

  For most Sundays during the warm months the Darcys walked to the chapel for services. Today, however, they would not only travel by carriage but would travel separately. Once parted for their dressing rooms, they adhered to the time-honored custom of remaining secreted apart until reconnecting inside the sanctuary.

  The Bingleys had arrived the afternoon before. Charles was clearly harried and displeased to vacate Hasberry so soon after moving in, but the general air of frivolity that inevitably surrounded Col. Fitzwilliam and Dr. Darcy bolstered his spirit. They, naturally, were having tremendous fun with poor Darcy, regurgitating every pre-matrimony jest known to man up to and including giving intimate relationship advice about the wedding night; the latter especially ridiculous as neither were married. Before an hour passed Bingley's native gaiety was revived and he readily joined into the amusement. The evening's “bachelor party” was lively, Darcy unobtrusively slipping away sober and long before the other three.

  Darcy owned several outfits of a highly formal cut and weave, allowing Samuel to pick one at random. The end result was nearly identical to what he wore for his official wedding day, or at least he thought so. The truth was he had taken no particular note as to his attire on that day either, trusting Samuel to provide the best. Darcy may have owned an obscene amount of clothing, but he honestly paid little attention to what he wore on a daily basis. Samuel chose a jacket and matching breeches of deepest blue wool, almost black, with a waistcoat of the same color, but accented with an edging of burnished auburn.

  Darcy fingered the vest with a faint frown. “I do not recall this waistcoat,” he mumbled, glancing at Samuel's inscrutable visage. “Have I always possessed it?”

  “As you say, sir,” Samuel replied flatly, avoiding his Master's eyes.

  Darcy smiled inwardly, suddenly suspecting the color of his wife's gown, but making no further comment. The proffered white silk cravat also sported a faint glistening of interwoven auburn threads.

  Richard wore his best dress uniform, Bingley in a fine suit of beige wool, and Dr. Darcy for once in full English gentleman's attire. His lanky frame was encased in a tailored suit of bluish-grey with long trousers to match, the reserved effect counteracted somewhat by the florid Kashmir scarf of innumerable colors utilized as a neckcloth.

  “Dashing, Uncle,” Darcy proclaimed sardonically upon entering the parlor where the men gathered. George grinned, lifting his teacup in salute.

  “How is the groom this morning?” Richard asked. “Feeling well? No last-minute jitters? I am sure we could find a way for you to bow out gracefully.”

  “Hysterical. Have you been rehearsing these witticisms all week?”

  “Only for a day or two.”

  “I daresay, Darcy, I am yet astounded that you of all people are purposely placing yourself on ceremony a second time,” Bingley declared with a shake of his head. “I could never force myself to go through with it again.”

  Darcy smiled and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “It is not quite the same, Bingley. It would require a far stronger man than me putting a pistol to my head to induce me to stand before all of Meryton society a second time. This is vastly different. Although enduring these two jokers and their clever barbs for the past week has been torturous.”

  “It is becoming ugly in here, Colonel. We better get him to the church where the aura of God will halt his tongue. Besides, I am starving so we need to hurry along. Knowing Mrs. Langton, she has a special breakfast planned for after the festivities.”

  Lizzy, in contrast, was inundated with female approbation. Jane, Georgiana, Lady Matlock, and even Marguerite were effusive with praise for the dress, hair, jewels, and the entire concept. Lizzy's dressing room was a veritable hotbed of feminine giggles, perfume, and romanticism with the ladies exchanging sentimental musings of husbands and amour. Emotions were high and the air thick with excitement. Mrs. Reynolds played the part of commander, assuring the men were well away before Mrs. Darcy departed for the church.

  Reverend Bertram had nearly collapsed from overwhelming delight when Darcy approached him regarding the renewal ceremony. Like Mr. Darcy, the good Reverend had also suffered an acute case of disappointment at having the marriage of his patron, a man he had known since birth, wed so far away. Naturally he would never have voiced this dismay to Mr. Darcy, but the intense happiness expressed left no doubt how he felt about the matter. Now he stood at the altar of his beloved chapel, wearing his best formal vestments, beaming at Mr. Darcy and the entire assembly. Outwardly he was sedate and composed, but the rosiness to his cheeks and broad grin revealed his enthusiasm.

  The small chapel was decorated with a dozen bouquets of fall flowers and two large candelabras. No other adornments were necessary, the interior lovely as is. Aside from the family no other guests had been invited. After much debate, both Darcys wishing for several of their friends to be present, it was unanimously decided that if they invited anyone then all of Derbyshire would feel slighted. Neither wanted their private affair to become a countywide social extravaganza. Those of their closest friends understood. As a compromise, they planned a dinner party for that evening as a way to share the occasion with their intimates without causing an uproar.

  The moment Darcy assumed his proper station to the left of Reverend Bertram, facing the gathering of his dearest relatives smiling at him from the richly polished oak benches, peace infused his soul. All niggling thoughts of the foolishness or inanity of his desire for this ceremony vanished. He gazed upon the beloved persons before him, and as if by magic he saw his mother and father sitting in their customary spaces in the front pew. There too was the vision of his grandfather, unruly grey hair and bushy eyebrows framing gentle eyes of midnight blue. He could feel the presence of all the long generations of Darcys etched into the very beams and floorboards of the sanctuary. Somehow he knew that just as surely as God Himself watched this holy ritual, so did the innumerable ancestors who had been baptized, married, and eulogized in this room. Peace, contentment, and supreme happiness were the ruling sentiments. None of the nervousness from before plagued him. Everything was different this time.

  Until Elizabeth appeared on the threshold. Instantly Darcy was struck with the identical paralyzing awe and breathless wonder from November past. His heart constricted and the room faded as his eyes peered through a narrow tunnel focused exclusively on his stunning wife. Was she more beautiful than on their wedding day? Nothing would supplant the vision of Elizabeth Bennet in her wispy white wedding gown with golden ribbons braided through her hair.

  No, it was the immediate surge of joy and rush of thanksgiving that blazed through his soul that rendered him mute and transfixed. She was everything to him. Suddenly the handful of minutes it took for her to glide gracefully down the aisle was an eternity. The need to touch her, smell her perfume, hear her voice, and gaze deeply into her astounding eyes was overpowering, causing his knees to nearly buckle and lungs to burst. Each step she took was an individually painted portrait hung in his mind's gallery alongside the array of Elizabeth portraits already residing.

  Her gown was a deep auburn, richly woven of glossy damask with a fine pattern of lacy leaves. The color accented her chocolate eyes and lustrous brunette locks—hence why Darcy so adored her in brownish hues—and the understated embellishments of lace and ribbons suited their mutual taste for minimalism. Another Marguerite creation with highlighting gems displayed her glorious hair to best advantage. There was no hiding the swell of their child, and the maidenly blush was gone from her cheeks, Lizzy now a woman of elegance and maturity. This refinement manifest in all aspects of her bearing and mien. Darcy's heart grew further with pride and vaulting love.

  Lizzy reached her incredible husband, hands clasped firmly and eagerly as she mounted the dais steps. She only had eyes for him, so regal and handsome with warmth radiating and abiding affection transparent. They stared at each other frankly, no hesitation or tremulousness. The seconds stretched, both lost in adoring gazes and startlin
g slightly when Reverend Bertram spoke.

  “Dearly beloved, we are gathered together here in the sight of God, and in the face of this congregation, to join together, once again, this Man and this Woman in Holy Matrimony; which is an honorable estate, instituted of God in the time of man's innocence, signifying unto us the mystical union that is betwixt 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. Therefore, it is not by any to be embarked on 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.

  “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 abstinence 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 persons present come now to be rededicated.

  “Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth have chosen this day to stand a second time before God in His Holy Sanctuary to consecrate their union, to express their undying faithfulness and devotion one to the other, and to receive the blessing. Their commitment to each other and to the institution of marriage as ordained in the Divine Scriptures is a testimony. I shall not ask if any know just cause for these two to not be wed, as that time has past. Assuredly the communal dedication they have shown coupled with the desire to suffer through another long-winded ritual proves their loyalty and seriousness.”

  The Reverend smiled, breaking from his solemn pose, as a soft ripple of chuckling ran through the assembly. Lizzy and Darcy laughed lowly, tearing their gazes from the other's face to glance with twinkling eyes toward the Reverend.

  Clearing his throat and raising his voice, Rev. Bertram resumed, “Fitzwilliam, 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 her, and keep her in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as you both shall live?”

  Darcy's smile was faint, merely a tiny lift to the corners of his mouth, face awash with serene intensity as he responded in a firm voice, “I will.”

  Lizzy inhaled deeply, eyes blinking rapidly to abolish the tears threatening to overflow. Darcy squeezed her hands, and so mesmerized was she by the tender emotion saturating his face that she nearly missed the Reverend's words.

  “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 him, honor him, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as you both shall live?”

  She wanted to shout her promise loudly with a ringing exultation, so enormous was her love and desire. Therefore, it was with some surprise that her words caught in a thick throat and she swallowed before able to utter in a husky tone, “I will.”

  Darcy smiled broadly, releasing a soft whistle while arching a brow. Lizzy flushed and giggled, pressing his hands firmly.

  “At this time Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth shall declare their vows to each other. Per their request they have chosen to restate their promises with a unique melding of the traditional vows as well as personal sentiments.”

  Darcy stepped closer to Elizabeth, his hands completely encasing her smaller ones and eyes locked onto her face. Emotions overwhelmed him, but his voice was loud and clear. “I, Fitzwilliam, take thee Elizabeth to my wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, 'til death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth. Elizabeth, you are my heart and soul. I promise to love you for all of eternity, trusting that even death shall not part us but for a moment. You have renewed my spirit, brought me purpose, and healed my heart. My gratitude is immeasurable and I vow to spend my life proving my thankfulness.”

  He paused, squeezing her hands before removing one to reach into his pocket. Clasping her left hand and gazing intently into her eyes, he said, “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 narrow band he slipped onto her third finger, nestling perfectly next to the one placed there nearly a year ago, was almost identical. His mother's engagement ring, given with extreme formality to Elizabeth on the afternoon after their engagement rendezvous in the meadow, was constructed of gold and adorned with a one-carat star sapphire of vivid blue, centered between two half-carat diamonds. Darcy's father had personally designed the ring for his mother. The tale told to his children was that he had searched all over England for the most exquisite sapphire he could find. Like many family stories, James Darcy embellished the tale for the amusement of his children, yet Darcy did not doubt his father's devotion to seek the very best for the woman he had loved and waited on for four years. Whatever the truth, the ring was magnificent and Lizzy remained awestruck that something so elegant belonged to her. The wedding band Darcy had designed for Lizzy was delicate; a slim band of gold in a braided pattern with three petite diamonds spaced with two small blue sapphires. For the sake of continuity he had ordered today's band fashioned similarly except with three sapphires and two diamonds. Placing it on her finger was not quite as profoundly moving as the first time, or at least he did not feel as lightheaded and dazed with emotion, but his heart skipped a beat and his fingers trembled.

  Lizzy was momentarily speechless, tears welling and throat tightening. Darcy grasped her hands with a gentle caress, spontaneously lifting them to his lips for a soft kiss. Their eyes met, Darcy winking and smiling brightly.

  Lizzy returned his smile, lifting her chin and speaking strongly, “I, Elizabeth, take thee Fitzwilliam to my wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, 'til death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth. Fitzwilliam, the life I did not realize was empty became full on the day you married me. You have graced me with your love, your soul, and your entire being. I am complete in you, a woman because of you, and a mother as a gift from you. Eternally I shall love you, and forevermore I pledge to strive in all ways to foster your happiness.”

  Emotion threatened to engulf him at her words, vigorous breaths necessary as she completed her earnest vows. The modicum of calm he attained was assaulted seconds later when, with a secretive smile, she dipped into a hidden pocket of her gown, withdrawing a wide band of brushed gold. Turning his left hand upward, she slowly glided the warmed metal over his ring finger while reciting:

  “Fitzwilliam Darcy, with this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and all that I possess I share with thee: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” She lifted the ring-clad finger to her lips, bestowing a tender kiss. “I love you, William,” she whispered for his ears only.

  “Elizabeth!” Darcy's mouth had dropped open in utter shock, shattered emotions strewn beyond the ability to reassemble. Thankfully Reverend Bertram sensed his stupefaction and looming collapse, smoothly assuming control by leading the assembly in a prayer. Darcy and Lizzy harkened to his words peripherally, captured by the other's concentrated stare.

  Lizzy was beaming, quite smug at having astonished her husband so completely. Darcy thrilled at the sensation of the solid reminder of her promise heavy on his flesh. Men rarely wore wedding bands; it being a cultural custom n
ot widely adhered to in England. Yet the feel of the metal on his finger was wonderful, and he wholly comprehended with stunning clarity why the visible, tangible evidence of matrimony was so vitally important to women. His heart soared and he knew without a doubt that he would proudly display her token of their unending love and fidelity for all of his life.

  The Reverend finished the benediction, laying his hands atop Darcy's and Lizzy's clasped ones, intoning in a ringing voice, “Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder! Forasmuch as Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth either to the other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of rings, and by joining of hands, I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together, In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

  The short conclusion was timely and adequate for Darcy to restore a semblance of coherency to his frayed sensibilities. The urge they felt to kiss each other was painful in intensity, but they resisted, managing to appropriately respond to Reverend Bertram's forceful declaration, “May I present, to my tremendous honor, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”

  The day's activities were jubilant. A delicious breakfast repast was served by Mrs. Langton, surpassing all expectations. Laughter was rampant, congratulations and well wishes abounding. Merriment and frivolity reigned, augmented as additional guests began arriving as the afternoon progressed. Lizzy and Darcy stayed as close together as feasible, deluged with innumerable requests to replay the vows and display their rings. The women universally wiped teary eyes, glancing speculatively at their husbands while the gentlemen feigned ignorance. It is doubtful that Darcy sporting a band would initiate a fashion trend, but more than a few of the younger men of their acquaintance privately thought the gesture romantic. None ventured a negative word and even George found no cause to tease.