Sudden Awakenings (The Other Paths Collection)

Chapter 17

The morning of the wedding came at last. Elizabeth, dressed in an elegant traveling ensemble with a dark blue pelisse and a matching bonnet, felt jittery. Every bone in her body seemed to quiver. A part of her wanted to scream and run away, to jump on a horse, and flee the country. However, it was not only her fear of riding horses which prevented her from doing so. She could not help but think of the stain on her family if she were to call off the wedding.

It is too late now. Your fate is sealed.

As if another angel were on her shoulder whispering contrary thoughts, a second voice battled within her mind. It is not too late. You can still cry off. Your family could weather the shame. Do it now before it will be too late.

But the first voice in her head then battled with the second. No, I am nothing if not a woman of my word. I have given Mr. Darcy my promise that I will marry him, and to my family, so our name will not be tarnished. It is my own fault, and no one else's, that I found myself in Mr. Darcy's bedroom that night at Netherfield. And it is for that crime I must pay. I ought never to have stayed the night, or if I had, I ought to have barred the door to keep myself from wandering around a strange house where I had no business being.

Besides, she mused with a hint of amusement, her punishment was not as severe as it originally seemed to be. Her mind drifted to the image of Mr. Darcy the night before, how well he looked in his breeches and superfine coat, and the memory of his hands upon hers as they danced. Heat rose to her cheeks over such thoughts. Her thoughts again drifted towards their wedding night. Would Mr. Darcy attempt to claim his husbandly rights? Her mother's voice interrupted before she could carry her thoughts too far.

“Come, Lizzy, the carriage is ready. You cannot be late for your own wedding.”

Elizabeth dutifully followed her. There were no decorations at the church, and the party assembled was small. The Bennets, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley with his sisters and brother, Charlotte Lucas, and the Collinses.

Mr. Collins, irritated that he had not been allowed to perform the ceremony, as he considered should have been his right, grumbled in his seat. The Reverend Carmichael, dressed in white ecclesiastical garb, emerged from his cloister.

Mr. Darcy looked no less fine on this day than he had the night before, dressed in a blue coat with dark trousers for traveling. Elizabeth thought he looked quite handsome, indeed. Nevertheless, her legs felt wooden as her father led her down the aisle. Mr. Bennet placed her hand in Mr. Darcy's, and helped her ascend the steps of the altar to face the minister.

The reverend offered perfunctory greetings to the small congregation and recited from the Book of Common Prayer. Elizabeth heard herself repeat her vows to Mr. Darcy, but it felt as though she were not the one saying them. She did not look at Mr. Darcy for fear she would lose her composure and not finish. He placed his mother’s beautiful diamond ring onto her finger, a symbol of her role as the new Mrs. Darcy. Finally, when the minister pronounced them husband and wife, she at last looked up into his eyes and saw a strange look there, warm and altogether different from the haughty look she had seen on his face the night of the Meryton Assembly. Before she had time to interpret its meaning, the minister made his pronouncement and presented them to the congregation. They were married.

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Their friends and family all wished them well, even Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. Her sisters and Charlotte embraced her again and again, her mother cried hysterically, and even her father shed a little tear and gave her a firm squeeze. And then, before she knew it, they were headed to the church door, and then their guests were bidding them farewell as they entered Darcy’s well-sprung traveling coach.

“Are you warm enough, Elizabeth?” Darcy asked her as they settled in for the drive.

“I am, thank you.”

“We shall cover a little more than fifty miles today before we stop in Northampton for the night,” he told her. “I hope it will not tax your energy too greatly. It is a good one-hundred-fifty miles from here to Pemberley, and I plan to cover it in three days' time unless we encounter bad weather on the road.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I can assure you, I will be equal to it.” But she was not thinking of the weather or the distance to her new home at all. Her mind was more occupied with the stop they would be making in Northampton, and what that night might entail for her.

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Darcy tugged at his collar, feeling uncomfortably hot inside the coach despite the cooling weather outside as the afternoon grew. Darcy's valet Perkins sat beside him while Elizabeth occupied the seat opposite them. Having the valet travel with them did not make things any less awkward for Darcy, who was keenly aware of his new bride's presence so near to him. The notion they would soon be sharing a room together, perhaps even a bed, weighed on his mind.

If there is only one bed, I will sleep on a chair , Darcy told himself. I have no intention of claiming my husbandly rights, nor expect her to share a bed with me. He had already made peace with the idea that he would never have an heir as long as he was married to Elizabeth, and that he would one day pass Pemberley to Georgiana and her children, whoever they may be.

For most of the day, Elizabeth read a book, while Darcy looked out at the barren countryside, grateful there was no snow to delay their travels. Occasionally, he spoke softly with his valet. Elizabeth seemed to have no wish to converse with him.

Elizabeth eventually drifted to sleep, as did Perkins.

Darcy pretended to sleep as well, but every so often, his eyelid would peek open to look at his wife as she slept. Her long, dark lashes lay beautifully against her cheek, making him ache to stroke that cheek. Her bosom heaved with her gentle breathing, and her lush lips parted gently. Looking at her was both a delight and a torment. He willed himself to keep his eyes shut until sleep finally claimed him. He did not stir when they changed horses, but when they finally arrived in Northampton, where they were to stay the night, Elizabeth woke him by gently putting a hand on his shoulder.

Startled, he opened his eyes to see her beautiful face staring down at him. It took every ounce of willpower not to reach up and steal a kiss from her right then.

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The inn was crowded; only two rooms were left. The innkeeper assigned a room to Darcy's valet, footman, and coachman, who would share. Another one was given to Darcy and Elizabeth. Elizabeth gulped when she saw the single bed their room had to offer.

“I will sleep on the settee,” Darcy hurried to reassure her. Elizabeth looked at the tiny settee next to the fireplace. It was covered in stains, the middle sagged, and it looked barely big enough for a child to stretch out on, let alone a fully grown man.

“No, let me take the settee,” she insisted. “I do not think you will find a restful sleep there, with your long legs. I am smaller. Besides, we know well enough what a deep sleeper I am.” A small grin escaped her lips.

“Precisely. Someone needs to be on guard in case you should rise in your slumber. Suppose you should wander into a total stranger’s room this time?”

Her cheeks pinked at his suggestion. “The door is equipped with a lock. And you will surely hear me if I am moving about.”

“But I will hear you better if you are in this creaky old bed, should you try to rise,” Mr. Darcy argued. He pressed his hand on the bed, which squeaked and groaned, proving his point.

“Then let us strike a compromise,” Elizabeth suggested. “We shall share the bed. We are married, after all.” She wondered if his cheeks felt as flaming hot as hers did at that moment. If they did, he did not show it. He accepted her suggestion without further protest. He flopped down on top of the coverlet, perhaps testing out the bed to ensure its stability and cleanliness. The reality of her proposal sank in, and suddenly, the room felt too small, his presence too near.

“I require privacy,” she declared suddenly. Then, seeing his surprise, awkwardly added, “I wish to change into my night shift.”

Darcy nodded. “Of course. I will change in another room.”

He left while a maid helped her into her nightclothes, and was in his own nightshirt and banyan when he returned. Elizabeth presumed he must have gone to his valet’s room to change. How odd that must have seemed to his servant, she mused.

Despite it being the second time they had seen each other in their nightclothes, Elizabeth felt bashful. Her thin muslin shift seemed bare and too transparent. She pulled her wrapper tighter to cover herself, then climbed into bed, shifting as far as she could towards the edge. Mr. Darcy walked around to the other side and entered, pulling the covers over himself and rolling away from her, giving her as much space as the small bed allowed. Within minutes, she heard his heavy breathing and tried to shut her eyes. She was sure she would not fall asleep all night, so keenly aware of the male presence beside her. Nevertheless, she too drifted off to sleep.

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