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He was there.

Even though she’d told him she hadn't accepted him for the right reasons, he was not a man to break his word. And knowing that he would be the man by her side for the rest of her life was a comforting thought indeed.

She repeated the words after the vicar, barely recognising the sound of her own voice echoing around the church.

And then he repeated his words, clear and calm, his eyes never leaving hers.

"If any man can show any just cause, why they may not lawfully be joined together, let him now speak, or else hereafter forever hold his peace. "

A hacking cough filled the silence.

Darcy and Elizabeth both turned, and the source of the noise was the late arrival herself, Lady Catherine de Bourgh.

Elizabeth held her breath, wondering if this was some prelude to a claim of a prior engagement or some such. When she looked at Darcy, his eyes were clouded with anger and he was glaring at his aunt.

And then the coughing stopped. She ignored everyone staring at her, folded her hands in her lap and stared straight ahead, seemingly content with disturbing the day, but at least not ruining it altogether.

"Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth have consented together in holy wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company. 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 vicar declared.

And Elizabeth's heart clenched as a smile spread over Darcy's face.

They were wed. It was done.

She was now, and forevermore would be, Mrs Elizabeth Darcy.

◆◆◆

He took her hand as they left the church, and it was a joy to be able to do that, although he wanted so much more. But for now, he would have to content himself with the feeling of her hand in his, knowing that they were bound together.

Outside the church, their guests were throwing rice, and Darcy ducked his head and forced a smile on his face, because he understood that the people enjoyed these traditions, even if he would rather not be party to them.

Who wanted a handful of rice down one's shirt?

At the end of the line of people, there was a phaeton, with two beautiful white horses pulling it. Darcy handed Elizabeth up and then joined her, sitting far closer to her on the bench than was necessary.

She did not seem to mind.

The crowd waved them off, although many would be joining them for the wedding breakfast soon enough.

They were heading back to Netherfield, for they had decided it made more sense to host it there. Firstly because it was bigger, although they did not say as much to Mrs Bennet, but secondly because, after all, the Bennets were still in mourning, and it would be more appropriate for them not to have to host.

And then they had agreed that they would journey on to Pemberley the following day.

He was keen to show her her new home, keen to return to it himself. He loved Pemberley more than he loved anywhere, and he found himself daydreaming about the look she might have on her face when she first saw it.

Her new home.

He regularly told himself he had become a soppy fool since he had fallen for Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He was well aware of that fact, and what could he do about it?

The horses took them to Netherfield at a decent pace, and he rather wished they were going to Pemberley now. Not that he didn't want to celebrate, but he would rather spend the time alone with her.

Still, he supposed they had all the time in the world for that.

"I hope you got some sleep last night," Elizabeth said, turning to him.

He laughed. "A little. And you?"

"I did not appreciate being awoken this morning, I can say that, but all in all, I'm glad I got up," she said with a smile.