One Bride & Two Grooms

by Christie Capps

  “Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth’s father blurted into the silence. “We are expecting a guest to arrive any moment who claims an acquaintance with you. I would hope the interruption to your ‘courting’ will not be a disappointment.”

  Darcy was immediately on alert. With Wickham gone from Hertfordshire, he could not imagine who would feel the need to travel to Meryton, except...Oh, good Lord! Lady Catherine. That fool preacher must have written her about the circumstances of the competition. Idiot!

  Endeavoring to reign in his emotions, Darcy responded, “Is Mrs. Bennet aware she is expecting a stranger?”

  “She will find out soon enough,” Mr. Bennet gleefully replied. Looking out the window, he added, “Might her horses be four matching bays?”

  “She is here,” Darcy whispered under his breath. Without thought, he grabbed Elizabeth’s hand which had just picked up a pawn. Looking her straight in the eye, he said, “Pray, do not hold anything that comes out of her mouth against me or Georgiana. If Mr. Collins has told her of my part in this courtship, her vitriol against you will be particularly sharp. I shall do all in my power to protect you.”

  “You will, will you? How?” was her quick response. Her spine had stiffened as she jerked her hand from his.

  He was confused, no longer on solid ground. “You are asking how I aim to guard you, is that correct?”

  Darcy knew his question was stupid, but he could not wrap his mind around a female who would not jump at the chance of having someone speak and act for her against his aunt. With that thought, he had a brilliant idea. “Perhaps it would be best should you remain in your father’s study. As soon as she leaves, I will return to you without fail.”

  From the corner of his eye, Darcy spotted Mr. Bennet shaking his head, while looking directly at him. Thus, he missed Elizabeth’s expression before she jumped up from her chair.

  He stood as well.

  “Mr. Darcy, if you think...” she began, her tone as sharp as a blade.

  Mr. Bennet broke in. “Children, no fighting.” Again, he gazed out the window. “The carriage has stopped. Lady Catherine shall soon enter Longbourn. I suggest you come to terms with how you mean to proceed in as few minutes as possible. I shall leave you to your discussion.”

  Sheer frustration warred with worry. How could he get Elizabeth to understand he wanted only what would be best for her? Darcy yearned to keep her from the verbal nonsense he knew was to come. Lady Catherine rarely used restraint when she was upset. In fact, never in his memory could he recall her using tact.

  Putting his palm over his mouth, Darcy wondered, was he using tact? No, he was not. Therefore, he began again. “Elizabeth, you have heard my suggestion for how to best deal with my aunt. Do you have another recommendation you would like to share? I would be pleased to hear what you have to offer.”

  When her right brow rose almost to her hairline, he suspected he had done well.

  Without hesitation she answered, “I shall not be left behind. I will stand at your side, or I will not stand with you at all. Ever!”

  “Then, I will tell you, Elizabeth Bennet, that my confidence rises at any attempt to intimidate me.” He stepped around the small game table to stand inches from her. “I am not afraid of my aunt. I never have been. I am master of Pemberley and guardian of Georgiana. Lady Catherine has no authority over me.” He moved inches closer. “I do, however, fear displeasing you. I am also deeply in love with you—so in love that I want you, and no one else, by my side until I take my final breath on this earth.”

  She was direct in her attitude. “I imagine you believe what you say, sir, which is a good thing since you have not hidden your goal of offering marriage to me and having me accept. Yet, you must by now realize that arrogance and pride are abhorrent to me. I hope you have learned to temper these qualities enough that I can see the true Mr. Darcy, especially under trial?”

  “You are certain you will not remain behind?” Looking her over from head to toe, he saw a warrior instead of a meek, submissive, pale specimen of a woman. “Yes, I can see that you are.”

  “I will tell you clearly, sir, that how you treat this situation with your aunt, my parents, Mr. Collins, and myself will tell me more about your inner character than a multitude of thirty-minute periods.”

  Good heavens! Did she expect him to be amiable when she was in the line of fire? He would do anything for her. But this? Well, he would certainly try.

  His eyes moved to where she was biting the corner of her lower lip. He longed to stop her abuse, tenderly caressing her mouth with his own. But the time was not right.

  Lowering her gaze from his, giving him no clue to her thoughts or feelings, she stepped to his side, wrapping her hand around his elbow. “Then, let us proceed into the fray.”

  The scene in the drawing room was not inviting. Lady Catherine was seated in Mrs. Bennet’s normal chair. Mr. Collins hovered over her. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet were across from them. Bingley and Jane had tucked themselves away in a distant corner, although they would still be witness to the confrontation. The younger girls had fled.

  When Darcy and Elizabeth arrived, Lady Catherine stood and approached. Her lackey followed.

  “This,” she pointed her walking stick at Elizabeth. “This is the girl who deigns to step into my sister’s shoes as mistress of Pemberley? Why, she is nothing to look at. My word, Fitzwilliam. She has freckles on her nose and her hair is as dark as night. What can you be thinking? She will never do as your wife.” Walking slowly around them, Lady Catherine kept up her commentary. “This chit is good enough for Collins but you, you deserve a lady rich in assets and personality like my Anne.”

  He gritted his teeth hard as he struggled to be the man that he thought Elizabeth wanted. As he said nothing, his fingers pushed into his palm, so tight was his fist. Mr. Collins remained silent as well.

  Darcy might have been able to maintain control had his aunt not finished her tirade with, “No, this baggage will never do for a Darcy.”

  Scarlett red flooded his vision. He was done being nice. Looking at Elizabeth, he pleaded, “My dear, I want to be the gentleman you admire and trust. I walked into this room next to you as you desired. I want to be calm. I long to be humble so you no longer find me arrogant. However, I am, indeed, a proud man. I am proud of my willingness to work hard for those I love and care for. I am proud of the name I hope to share with you one day. I am proud of Georgiana for recognizing your value far quicker than I. Mostly, I am proud of you, that you stand solidly for your beliefs and for what is right. Because of this, I can no longer remain silent. Do not ask it of me, I pray you.”

  “I will not ask it of you, sir.” It was in her eyes, kindness and acceptance.

  He stepped in front of Elizabeth, using his right hand to guide her behind him. Then he approached his aunt. “You have said quite enough, Madam.” Using his height, he loomed over her, his pose every inch intimidating. “How dare you use filth to describe a woman so rare and precious to me. You have overstepped all that is proper by coming here to interfere in a matter unrelated to you in an attempt to change my mind. I have told you many times that I will never marry Anne. You do not listen. You have wasted your time and are wasting mine.”

  “Bah!” Lady Catherine rapped her walking stick on the floor. “Look at you. A Darcy competing for a simple country girl’s affection against a lowly clergyman. Is she lacking in understanding? Does she have no intelligence? Does she not know who you are? And you, Fitzwilliam? What sort of arts and allurements has she used to trap you? Was there a compromise? Did you display human weakness in the face of her blatant pursuit? If so, it is of no matter. Collins and she can quickly wed. I will arrange for your by-blow to be shipped off to a workhouse, so you are not bothered. Then, Collins can read the banns for you and Anne. You will take her home to Pemberley before the year ends. All will be as it should be.”

  “No!” Darcy’s voice quieted to almost a whisper, forcing Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins to lean towards him. �
�Take heed, the both of you. I will never see Elizabeth married to anyone other than myself. Ever! If I need to spend a lifetime earning her regard, I will do so.”

  The dream he had after the Netherfield ball haunted him. It was then he understood just how far he was willing to go to secure Elizabeth Bennet as his wife.

  His smile unnerved Lady Catherine. Ignoring Mr. Collins, he bowed to her alone. She was sputtering when he held up his palm for silence.

  “Lady Catherine, your purpose is doomed to fail. You are finished here.” He turned his back to his aunt, in effect, giving her the cut direct. Returning to Elizabeth, he gently took her hand in his, bringing her fingers to his lips as he continued to address his aunt. “Because of you, I now know how far I am willing to go to have Elizabeth for my bride. I will change what I need to change. I will become whatever and whomever I need to be her husband. The only one who can stop me is Elizabeth. She alone holds the key to my heart and soul. You have as much power as a lion with its teeth and claws removed.”

  “Humph!” His aunt stalked around where he stood with Elizabeth. “You have made your offer then?”

  “I have not.”

  “Then, you will not!” his aunt insisted, rapping her cane on the floor with each word.

  “I am resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person whether connected to me or not. Therefore, I shall make my proposal as often as possible until she finally says ‘yes’.”

  “I take no leave of you, Fitzwilliam. You deserve no such attention. I am most seriously displeased.”

  When she stomped out of the door, those remaining in the room were frozen in place. Nevertheless, their facial expressions revealed much.

  Mr. Collins appeared to be greatly put out that his beloved patroness had not helped him carry his point. He would not be marrying Elizabeth. Bingley and Jane were still in the corner, whispering between themselves. Mr. Bennet had reached for his wife’s hand, whether to offer her comfort or to gain such, Darcy did not know.

  Nonetheless, it was his Elizabeth whose response pleased him the most.

  “Mr. Darcy, I believe we need to talk.”

  He could not agree more.

  Looking out the window, he noted a break in the weather.

  “We have yet to walk the lane today. I still have thirty minutes, I believe, if you are willing?” Tucking her hand inside his own, he was pleased with her reply.

  “I am willing.” Then, she smiled.

  Chapter 9

  Lady Catherine’s carriage was pulling away when the couple stepped out of the front door. From habit, Darcy checked the time on his pocket watch.

  “Well, sir, I think that went quite well,” she chuckled.

  He laughed in relief at her quip.

  “Only you, Elizabeth.” He offered his arm, basically assured of her acceptance. There was a small measure of consolation as soon as he felt her hand rest where it belonged. “Might I ask, or would it be too much, for an explanation of your comment?”

  She grinned. “Are you referring to my statement that we needed to talk or that I am willing?”

  “I would say both.”

  “From the start, Mr. Darcy, you were made aware of the two qualities needed to capture my heart. Do you recall?

  “I do.” They began walking down the lane. “Respect and affection.”

  “Yes.” She looked at him as she moved beside him. “My hope was to have a marriage where love was forged so strong that nothing would move us, shake us, or break us. In listening to you stand up for the two of us to your aunt, I finally realized that together we could be formidable.”

  “A formidable marriage,” he mused. “I do like the sound of it, Elizabeth.”

  “As do I,” she agreed happily. “During our half hour periods, you gave me a choice to have quiet when I could tell you wanted to speak. You asked my way despite wanting your own way. And you did not ask me to share my chocolate sweets. To me, that is the mark of a true gentleman, one I might like to attach myself to for a lifetime.”

  He could walk no farther.

  “Do you love me, Elizabeth?”

  The corners of her eyes crinkled as her nose twitched. “I do believe you are growing on me...Fitzwilliam.”

  What was a man to do? Cupping her face, he lowered his lips to hers. After two more kisses, he whispered, “Marry me?”

  “I just might,” she breathed her reply. “I believe between now and the wedding day I will become agreeable to the task.”

  He was the happiest man on earth. Miss Elizabeth Bennet would become Mrs. Darcy, his beloved, forever.

  “I need to speak to your father.” He pulled away, recalling where they were and that Mr. Bennet was undoubtedly watching them closely. As the guardian of a young girl, he knew how he would feel should a gentleman display his affections prior to asking permission.

  He groaned. “Will he torment me over this?”

  “Most likely,” she grinned. “But do not worry. If my father has seen us, so has my mother. She will make absolutely certain she has a son-to-be before the day is out.”

  “Then, bless Mrs. Bennet.”

  Happily, they walked hand and hand back to Longbourn. Darcy never knew such joy—the joy that was his Elizabeth.

  One month later -

  “Miss Elizabeth Bennet, wilt thou have this man to be 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?”

  Darcy’s breath was stuck somewhere in his throat as he awaited her reply. Finally, after mischief filled her expression, she said, “Yes, I will”.

  He did not recall exhaling in relief until after they both recited their vows.

  Within a few short moments, they were pronounced man and wife.

  In the weeks leading up to their wedding, he had shared the vivid account of his nightmare with Elizabeth. She had first sympathized, then became indignant at being tossed over his shoulder as he had stomped out of the chapel. Then, she kissed away the remnants of his memories, replacing them with her promise that she would marry him and no other.

  There had been many times during their official engagement that he had yearned to toss her into his carriage and head to Scotland. Mrs. Bennet had staunch ideas of the extensive preparations for the wedding. Bingley’s sisters made his stay at Netherfield Park miserable as they learned quickly not to speak publicly, especially to him, about the qualifications of any of the Bennet daughters to be a society bride. Occasionally, Mr. Collins would write, as did Lady Catherine, letters filled with threats and disappointments.

  It was a pleasure to have Anne de Bourgh in attendance for the ceremony, accompanied by his Fitzwilliam relatives. Her support meant much to both Darcy and Elizabeth.

  Miss Georgiana Darcy loved her new sister from the moment they met. She also found much in common with Miss Jane Bennet. Within hours, they became fast friends. During the wedding breakfast, Georgiana informed her brother that she wanted to remain at Longbourn during their wedding journey rather than impose on the new bride and groom. Neither Darcy nor Elizabeth minded the idea of being alone, which was exactly where they wanted to be.

  Mr. Bennet had taken a liking to the young Miss Darcy, feeling it was his responsibility to tell her the tale of one bride and two grooms. Georgiana replied with a boldness that surprised Darcy of her own part in the scheme. From that point on, she would be forever welcomed at Longbourn.

  When the newly wedded couple was ready to depart for their northern destination of Pemberley, Mr. Bennet took Darcy aside.

  “I am proud to have you as my son, Darcy.” Mr. Bennet slapped him companionably on the shoulder. “Take good care of my girl, and do not be a stranger to us.”

  “I swear with my life that I will do as you ask, Bennet.” Darcy paused before
asking what weighed heaviest on his mind. Finally, he spoke his concerns aloud. “Do you believe Elizabeth chose the correct groom?”

  “Beyond a shadow of a doubt.” Mr. Bennet chuckled. “You were always my choice.”

  Grateful he had his new family’s support; Darcy gathered his wife and left Longbourn.

  As they entered the carriage, Darcy thought, one bride plus one groom (himself)—perfect!

  Epilogue

  Mr. Bennet moved to where his wife stood watching the couple out the front window. The newlywed’s hands were joined. Their heads were tilted towards each other as they stopped before stepping into the carriage. When Mr. Darcy took her face in his hands, Elizabeth’s father knew what was coming. He looked away.

  “We did it, Mr. Bennet,” his wife of almost twenty-five years patted his hand where it rested on the sill.

  “That we did, dearest.” He chuckled. “I would never have known two such stubborn people would be the perfect match. You are positively brilliant, my bride.”

  She blushed. “No, dear. I do appreciate the compliment, but this time it is undeserved.”

  “How so, Blossom?”

  She smirked. “As he watched Lizzy, I watched him. Then I spoke extensively with Mr. Bingley to determine his true character. I will admit the charm of Mr. Wickham almost had me changing my mind. Nevertheless, one whisper from Mrs. Morton at the inn in Meryton convinced me one was a gentleman while the other had only the appearance of being moral. I was convinced that true love would result if we could convince both Darcy and Lizzy of each other’s character.”

  “My wife, I will admit I almost choked when Lizzy spoke with our new son about there being a spy in the house. By the by, our Lizzy still believes it to be Lydia.”

  “Silly girls!” Mrs. Bennet grinned. “They all think they know what is going on with their parents and are convinced we do nothing other than fret over them.”