"She means only to surpass me," the former Miss Bennet, newly minted Mrs. Bingley a mere week ago, grumbled from her seat in the frontmost row.
"Nonsense, Jane, Lizzy waited until your banns were entirely done before reading hers," Mrs. Bennet corrected her eldest daughter, a refreshing act from the usually partial mother.
Darcy, standing heads taller above all the guests, cleared his throat and waited patiently from his post at the altar.
He was not nervous. He did not think he would be. The marriage was an act of kindness - a potentially misguided attempt to compensate somehow for his friend's faithlessness towards Miss Elizabeth.
But he admired Elizabeth - particularly admired her strength in the face of such adversity - and he was determined to undertake the riskiest endeavor in his life yet in a crusade to bring her some degree of peace and happiness.
Soon, the church doors opened, the crowd stilled, and his bride emerged through the wooden doors like a young creature peering into the world for the first time. Her dress was simple, as they had agreed. God forbid that their choices outshine the previous week's wedding in any sort of way. The new Mrs. Bingley complained enough to have anyone tire of her.
But the simplicity of Elizabeth's bearing, and the hopefulness and determination in her eyes, convinced him more and more with every passing minute that this outrageous adventure was one worth taking.
She would not abandon him. She would not let a jealous sister's petty words sway her from her purpose.
And he would be more than proud to stand by her side as her protector, if she ever needed one.
Her unmooring sacrifices deserved a safe harbor - and he smiled at her as he took her hand, hoping that she understood how determined he was to becoming that very harbor for her.
"Dearly beloved," the parson began, and the small gathering of neighbors remained mostly dutifully still.
There had been murmurs regarding Elizabeth's fast engagement - a whisper here and a raised brow there. But Darcy, resolved to shield his bride and exerted particular effort towards courting Elizabeth as publicly as he could in the past month, visiting Longbourn every day and discoursing extensively with Mr. Bennet regarding a generous settlement.
Their charade seemed to work well - and the murmurs had ceased almost as quickly as they had began.
Surrounded by the crisp summer air, their wedding ceremony flew by quickly - notedly without Mrs. Bennet's tears interrupting as often as they did in the Bingley wedding a mere seven days ago.
Young Mrs. Bingley's scoffs lessened eventually, existing in a relatively subdued manner for the remainder of the hour. The sighs and giggles from the youngest Bennet sisters, distracting at first, dwindled at last to a calm. Darcy wondered briefly how Georgiana would react if she had been able to travel to Hertfordshire for the event.
His eyes and heart, however, remained fully engaged by the woman before him.
He pecked her cheek when they departed the church. He assisted her in every way during the fittingly modest wedding breakfast. He guided her gently, yet firmly, every step from the altar to her childhood home.
And when they mounted their carriage for London, and he watched her wave her goodbyes to her family, he vowed once more to himself that he would apply himself fully into purging that hint of sadness that lingered in her captivating eyes even as she smiled.
And he was resolved to succeed.
They had spent the night in London, her new husband introducing her gently to the servants and greeting her politely before they parted for their own respective chambers for the rest of the day. To the casual spectator, they must have appeared to be a couple so wholly engrossed in each other that they had chosen to forego a formal dinner altogether. On Elizabeth's part, she knew the maneuvering to be her husband's work, lest she be overwhelmed by the expectations of her new and unexpected life.
By divine providence, she had married a true gentleman.
"Are you comfortable, Mrs. Darcy?" The man occupying her thoughts inquired across the space of the carriage they shared today.
Elizabeth smiled. "Very much so. Your carriage is, as was your London home, very comfortable, sir."
His face seemed to turn shy. "I did not mean to boast."
"Oh, not at all." Elizabeth reached for his gloved hands. "Thank you - for every kindness you have extended me. I must admit I had not thought of your comfort when I first agreed to your proposal."
"It is of no importance." He smiled and patted her hand before she retracted back to her seat. "Your comfort, I value more."
Elizabeth smiled at the intriguing man across her. He was kind, if quiet. And she reveled in the fact that he seemed to care very much for the well-being of those under his care.
Such a temperament boded well for her as they approached his childhood home.
"The horses shall need rest in another hour or so," her husband informed her as they rumbled along for another few minutes. "Are there any refreshments you prefer?"
"I am fully content." Elizabeth smiled. It surprised herself that the act took much less effort than it had at the ball a mere month ago. "Though I would be glad for a drink."
"Of course." Her husband nodded. "I shall procure some for us posthaste."
The rest of their travels continued in the same amicable calm. With Jane's jealous eyes always upon them, they had chosen to eschew a continental honeymoon - declaring instead their intent to stay at Pemberley for the remainder of the year.
One peek outside the carriage curtains as they approached the sprawling estate was enough to convince Elizabeth that her husband did not suggest this route haphazardly.
Who, with such a wild and beautiful home, would ever choose to tour abroad instead?
"Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy." Her husband smiled as he handed her down the carriage steps. Elizabeth thanked him, overwhelmed at the sight before her.
The main house stood tall and proud, a secure presence in the midst of endless gardens, grounds, and smaller residences. Its solemnity reminded Elizabeth of its master - stately, handsome, and still. The servants, no doubt a part of her welcome party, greeted her with glad but respectful smiles.
"Your home is beautiful, Mr. Darcy," she whispered to the man beside her, feeling rather small at this particular moment.
"Our home is beautiful, Elizabeth," he whispered back. He led her up the first few steps with a hand on the small of her back - a hand so warm that her face felt abruptly chilled.
"Fitzwilliam! Elizabeth!" A young girl, with golden curls flowing behind her, appeared at the top of the stairs and began to scurry her way down.
"Georgiana." Her husband greeted with a smile.
"I am so glad to see you." The girl whom Elizabeth knew must be Miss Darcy launched herself into her brother's arms. He freely embraced her before she pulled back. "And you must be Elizabeth, my new and wonderful sister."
Elizabeth smiled shyly at the compliment, before finding herself in a similar hug.
To her surprise, her husband only chuckled until the women let go.
"You do not seem excited at our return at all, Georgiana."
His sister stepped back slightly, a blush staining her cheeks. "I - I'm sorry, Fitzwilliam. I have been ecstatic since you told me the news. I have always wanted a sister."
Elizabeth watched with fascination at the way her husband smiled and the way his sister returned that smile.
The pensive man in Hertfordshire, who had not even cracked a smile at her acceptance of his proposal, choosing instead to reply with a formal bow, had seemed to be entirely replaced by a gentler, happier man. He looked the same, but smiled. He spoke with the same voice - but in softer, more cheerful tones.
"Welcome, Elizabeth," Miss Darcy turned to face her. "I do hope you do not mind that I call you so."
"Not at all," Elizabeth assured. She felt her husband smile. "You may call me Lizzy, as my sisters do."
The mention of sisterhood seemed to move Miss Darcy keenly, and she smiled softly the entire way back into the house.
Within the hour, the siblings had settled Elizabeth fully in her mistress chambers - the bedding fresh and the view incomparable. Her measely trousseau filled up only a quarter of the closets, but her husband assured her that they would see to a fuller wardrobe for her as soon as they could.
Elizabeth remembered how he had offered to do so even back in London, and she rested assured that this, unlike his friend, was a man who kept his word.
"Do not hesitate to inform me if you have need of anything else," her husband assured before he and his sister departed to dress for dinner.
A wave of gratitude, admiration, and comfort welled within her, and Elizabeth could hardly find the words to say.
"You give me, sir, beyond anything I could ever have hoped to ask for." She blinked her eyes to stay any uncooperative tears. "I cannot thank you enough for your sacrifice."
He looked oddly at her then, as if he was mulling over a thought that he wondered if he ought to speak of or not. "Please, call me Fitzwilliam."
Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam."
"I shall see you at dinner." He kissed her hand, to Georgiana's obvious delight, and withdrew with a smile.
A/N: I acknowledge fully that Darcy is sort of too much of a knight in shining armor for this story. But since it is an adaptation of a famous Chinese romance (whose English name I can't seem to pin down), I've done a lot of character contortions to maintain the general plot. Some characters (ahem, Bingley) get the losing end of the bargain while some, like Darcy, get the winning hand. They will all be OOC to some degree and will continue being so.