The lovely and ancient church in Meryton, where the Bennet family had worshipped for years, was perfectly suited for the ceremony. In truth, Darcy had always imagined marrying in the chapel at Pemberley and was mildly saddened initially at the natural choice to marry where both Bennet daughters had grown up. However, he quickly recognized the logic to the decision and realized that he honestly did not care as long as they were married with the sanction of the Church, religion being a vital part of his life.

The elderly vicar performed the traditional ceremony impeccably, his strong voice reciting the vows and quoting Holy Scripture with firm conviction. When Darcy slipped the slim, etched-in-jewels gold band onto Elizabeth’s finger, nestling it alongside the sapphire and diamond engagement ring that had been his mother’s, it was far and away the most profoundly moving moment in his life.

Elizabeth stirred slightly and he pressed her closer to his side, kissing her gently on the top of her head. He pulled the blanket further over her body and tucked it in. Once he was sure she still slept, he rested his cheek on her head and went back to his daydreams.

The reception at Netherfield was joyous, filled with all of their respective friends and relatives. The food was superb, the musicians exceptional, and the wine of the best vintage. Darcy had an extremely difficult time tearing his eyes away from his bride, but he did manage to congratulate Charles and Jane on their nuptials as well, realizing with a start that Jane looked quite beautiful herself. He was embarrassed to admit that he had not even noticed her presence at the church’s altar alongside Elizabeth!

He and Lizzy had previously agreed that they would make their escape as soon as good manners would allow. Darcy had secured lodging at the White Stag Inn near Bedford. He had discovered this superb establishment years earlier while still at Cambridge. Located only a few miles off the main thoroughfare to London—on the turnpike to Cambridge, in fact—it was secluded enough to fulfill his preference for quiet while traveling, but also popular enough as a halting place for those journeying to Newmarket for the races, or on to Suffolk for the sea, so that it was well maintained.

It was also the perfect resting point for the two-day ride between London and Pemberley, a trek he had completed more times that he could remember. He had stayed at the White Stag so frequently over the years that the owners, a pleasant couple named Hamilton, knew him well. They had been ecstatic at the idea of hosting him and his new bride for the initial days of their married life.

All arrangements had been made in advance and, to ensure their privacy, he had rented out the entire second story. Luckily, the late time of year meant the road would be lightly traveled, with hired coaches rarely passing and passengers minimal. Even the pub would see few customers, although it would not matter greatly, as their suite was to the rear of the sturdy red-brick building and well away from the public rooms.

Their luggage had been sent ahead earlier in the day, so all would be ready upon their arrival. Darcy was breathless in anticipation of this night! Not just for the obvious reasons of their promised intimacy and consummation of their marriage, but for the peace and relief from the hustle and bustle of the past two months. Just to be alone with his beloved! Never in his life had any evening been so tremendously and lovingly contemplated.

The carriage pulled off the main road, and Darcy knew they were close to their destination. “Elizabeth,” he whispered softly, “wake up, my love; we are almost there.”

She moaned softly and wriggled closer to his side, wrapping her arms tighter around his waist. “Much too comfortable here,” she murmured sleepily. “Do not want to move.”

Darcy chuckled. “Well, imagine your heightened comfort in our room, and perhaps that will help you wake up.”

She leaned her head back, safe and warm within the circle of his embrace, gazed into his brilliant eyes, and smiled. “You make an excellent point, Mr. Darcy, most excellent indeed!”

They stared for a long moment with their arms remaining tightly wound about each other. Finally Elizabeth could stand it no longer and exclaimed with breathless impertinence, “Are you going to kiss me, husband, or do I need to beg?”

He smiled impishly. “Perhaps I should have you beg. That might be interesting to watch. The proud Miss Bennet begging.”

“Ah, but I am no longer Miss Bennet and since you hold the monopoly on pride, William, I daresay I would not be very amusing at all!” Her eyes were twinkling as they always did when she teased him.

He feigned deep consideration and seriousness while lowering his face to hers slowly. “Now it appears it is your turn to make an excellent point, Mrs. Darcy.” He kissed her gently at first, then deeply as she responded in kind. Cupping one cheek and caressing tenderly, Darcy murmured, “I love you, Elizabeth, my wife.” Allowing no opportunity for her to reply, he reclaimed her lips. Who knows how far the kisses may have gone, but, alas, they were interrupted by the carriage stopping with a jolt. Darcy released his wife with a lingering caress and regretful sigh.

They were greeted at the courtyard door of the inn by Mr. Hamilton. He welcomed them both as they alighted from the carriage and hurried them into the warm and inviting reception room. A servant took their coats and gloves. Darcy spoke to Mr. Hamilton, assuring that all arrangements had been carried out, while Elizabeth looked around the room. The pub was to the left through an archway of polished oak and gray stone. Two men in farmer’s garb sat at the edge of the bar, ale mugs in hand, as they attended to an unseen minstrel whose strains of violin music could be faintly heard.

The reception area was a quaint and cozy room warmed by a roaring fire in a huge fireplace located to the right; numerous chairs and couches were positioned around the heat source. An older gentleman sat in one chair, newspaper in hand, attending avidly to the words. A middle-aged couple sat upon a settee, lifting smiling faces to the Darcys, and nodding politely. There were rooms and hallways branching off from the main chamber, including a public dining area and what appeared to be a tiny library. Lizzy’s attention was diverted to a stout woman with a sunny face who appeared from around a large desk.

“Welcome, welcome!” she sang. “Mr. and Mrs. Darcy! How delightful! Newlyweds! How precious it is to have you spending your first days with us!” Mr. Hamilton turned and introduced his wife to Lizzy.

Mrs. Hamilton continued in her breathless, singsong way of talking, “Mr. Darcy has been our guest so very often! And now he is married! What a blessing it is! A private parlor is set up for dining, Mr. Darcy, just as you requested! Dinner will be ready momentarily! All the dishes you asked for, Mr. Darcy! Very private!”

She took Elizabeth’s hands and guided her toward a far room, all the while prattling on, “You look absolutely radiant, my dear! Stunning gown! And your hair! Beautiful!”

As Mrs. Hamilton continued, Lizzy glanced back to see Darcy grinning as he followed the two women down a short corridor to a small parlor overlooking the moonlit meadow outside the paned windows. Mrs. Hamilton seated them at a small table close to the fire, bustling about and rattling on, until Mr. Hamilton coaxed her out of the room with a promise that they would be left as unaccompanied as possible. Once alone, Darcy and Lizzy could not resist laughing.

“Are you pleased, dearest?” Darcy asked, scooting his chair nearer until their knees were touching.

“Oh yes, William, it is all so very wonderful.” She reached over and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You have gone to so much trouble for me, and I do so appreciate it.”

“It was no trouble at all, my love, and I must confess I was not only thinking of you,” he replied with a laugh, kissing her fingers. “As we have established, I am a rather selfish man and I want you all to myself, far away from Bennets and Bingleys or anyone else!”

“Well, now you have me, for better or worse. I hope I do not disappoint,” she said with a sly look from under her lashes and a firm squeeze to his knee.

Suddenly Darcy had a difficult time catching his breath. “Oh no, Elizabeth. I am positive that it would be impossible for you to disappoint me in any situation.” He placed his free hand over the dainty one resting on his knee, leaning instinctively toward her.

Sadly, before any further action could be taken, a maid entered with the first course. Darcy jerked backward with a ready blush, Lizzy laughing. The dinner was excellent, all of Elizabeth’s favorite dishes, but neither of them were hungry. Odd, considering they had not eaten much all day, what with wedding jitters and endless socializing. The fact that this finally was their wedding night seemed to occur to them both at the same time. Anxiousness, underlying passion, and hints of nervousness dissolved any appetite.

Finally the courses had been served and taken away barely eaten. With scarcely concealed enthusiasm and a faint rosiness to her cheeks, Elizabeth announced that she would retire to her dressing room to change. Darcy nearly choked on his wine, but managed to maintain a calm demeanor as she rose from the table and leaned over to give him a brief kiss of passionate promise.

“Will it suit you if I am ready in half an hour?” she asked softly, to which he could only nod. With a tender caress to his cheek, she turned and left the room.

Never had thirty minutes lasted so long! Darcy truly thought he would lose his mind. He wandered into the small library and pulled a book off a shelf at random. Any attempt to actually read it was ludicrous to the extreme, but he made a show of it, employing all his well-perfected composure.