Mr. Darcy smoothed his jacket as he padded down the hallway in the east wing to the main staircase. He had not even told his good friend Bingley his plans for this morning. The man was like a brother to him, but could not keep a secret. And this was one secret that he most assuredly did not want to get to Georgiana and his aunt. For if Lady Catherine de Bourgh found out that Wickham and Lydia Bennet were not even wed yet, he did not want to consider that scenario but it assuredly end in the departure of his aunt from Pemberley. By force.

Once through the front doors he jogged down the steps to the carriage waiting below in the dark morning light. He was departing earlier than needed to escort Wickham to the church, but he had planned on a desperate man's last attempts for freedom. Mr. Darcy leaned back against the swaying carriage lulling him into closing his eyes, but he did not worry that he would fall asleep. There was too much riding on escorting Wickham to the church and witnessing the marriage for him to let down his guard.

When the conveyance rolled to a stop in front of Mrs. Wickham's house, Mr. Darcy was not surprised to find the scoundrel's mother wiping her eyes. She had been as excellent a mother as she could have with a drunkard for a husband and wretch for a son.

"Georgie, I do not reason why you can not take a commission with a closer regiment? Why you will be stationed near to the wilds of Scotland!"

Mr. Wickham smiled amiably as he escorted his mother out of her home. "Mama," he glanced at Mr. Darcy with a conspiratorial look, "you know how the militia is, I must go where I am needed."

"You are such a good lad, so dedicated to the Crown and good of country. I just wish they did not have such need of you so far north."

Mr. Darcy raised his eyebrow but not did refute the obvious falsehood that Wickham had fed his mother. He would let the woman have her happiness this day at seeing her son married. In just a few hours he would be rid of the wretch. Hopefully their paths would never cross again.

He stood aside as Wickham handed his mother into the carriage. Then waited until Wickham gave up motioning for Darcy to enter next and finally climbed in taking a seat next to his elderly mother. The ride to the church was mercifully short. Sitting across from the smug man basking under his mother's praises was nearly too much to bear.

But he knew the man since they were young lads and saw the tightening around Wickham's eyes, his fiddling with his jacket and cravat as signs that the scoundrel knew this was the end of the line. His ability to wreck havoc would be far more curtailed now that he was married, for Mr. Darcy would no longer be obligated to clean up the messes that were left behind.

Mr. Darcy exited first at the church, standing alone in the gravel driveway waiting for Mrs. Wickham to descend with her arthritic knees. He checked his pocket watch and noted the time. He was correct in his supposition that Wickham would delay matters, they only had a scant few minutes before the wedding was schedule to begin. And the local parson was a stickler for punctuality.

But Wickham, once descended from the well sprung and appointed carriage, stood in the drive straightening his jacket. Mr. Darcy motioned to the front of the church.

"You would begrudge me my last moments of freedom?" The man guilefully queried.

"This moment is of your making." Mr. Darcy motioned again to the church. "Wickham, your bride is waiting inside."

Wickham, sensing no quarters, sheepishly smiled then raised his chin and marched to the front doors of the small, white church his mother clutching his arm and crying. An outrider that had accompanied the carriage, opened the door, leaving nothing to chance for this was a prime opportunity for a last mad dash to freedom. Mr. Darcy had gone so far as to position several men around the church itself. No matter where the man ran, he would be dragged back into this church to marry the youngest Bennet girl that had fallen prey to the scoundrel.

But no desperate ploys were attempted, and Mr. Darcy breathed a sigh of relief as he followed them into church and the gloom of the interior covered him with the closing bang of the door. Once his eyes adjusted, he was too far up the aisle already that he only saw Elizabeth's profile. Mrs. Bennet's sniffling and not so quiet pleas for Lydia to write often and travel to Hertfordshire as soon as she could followed them up the aisle. Then he had to turn away to enter the pew to do his duty as witness and best man.

Mrs. Wickham followed him in the pew patting his arm after she sat. "I am so glad you are here, Fitzwilliam. You were such good pals as boys."

He grunted and continued to stare at the empty altar trying to ignore the continued chatter of Lydia and the passioned pleas from her eldest sisters for her to quiet down. Mr. Darcy wanted to sit next to Elizabeth, hold her hand and look at her. A quick glance around Wickham showed the profile of her blue bonnet sticking out past her sister's hats.

The parson entered, crossing the altar, causing Darcy to regretfully tear his gaze away and stand facing the front. Mrs. Bennet's sniffles grew louder as the wedding service commenced with both bride and groom exiting their pews to stand in front of the solemn parson.

Lydia clung to Wickham's arm and stared up unabashedly at her soon to be husband, before the parson coughed and bade her face him. Mr. Darcy looked askance at the only reason he was involved in this travesty, his heart leaping as Elizabeth's brown eyes met his and warmed.

The service concluded quickly, with the Wickhams gaily traipsing down the aisle with Lydia beaming. She hung onto her new husband with both arms as Mrs. Bennet fretted and cried at losing her youngest and favorite child so far to the north. The Gardiners and Bennets stood back from the happy couple, except the one closet to Lydia stood between them and the rest, perhaps unsure whether to be happy for her sister as the mood of the rest was disapproval.

"Haven't I caught myself a handsome husband?"

Mrs. Bennet patted her eyes. "Indeed, you have, my love."

Mr. Wickham beamed. Mr. Darcy looked away catching Elizabeth's face which matched his own.

"You are very welcome, sir."

"You are all goodness and kindness, Ma'am, as always." Wickham bowed. Mr. Darcy rolled his eyes.

"Oh, let me give you a kiss, then." Mrs. Bennet kissed her new son-in-law's cheek as Lydia simpered at her sisters.

"What a pity we didn't all go to Brighton. I could have got husbands for all my sisters!"

"Lydia!"

Mr. Darcy turned away noticing that Jane was more subdued than the rest, staring down at the gravel drive. A study of her features revealed sadness, which prompted a pang of regret in his chest for the he could only assume the girl was remembering the love she had lost thanks to his interference. He would have to remedy that, especially now that both were in the same county, with one even residing at Pemberley at that moment.

"Oh, do you have to depart so soon? Why can we not have a wedding breakfast for them?" Mrs. Bennet cried. "And Mr Bennet so cruel as to refuse to take us into the North Country."

Mary piped up. "I should refuse to go, in any case."

"Oh, hold your tongue, girl! Who asked you?" Mrs. Bennet turned back to the newly wed couple. "Oh, Lydia, you will write to me often, won't you?" Mrs. Bennet hugged her daughter still clinging to Wickham.

"Well, I don't know. We married women don't have much time for writing. My sisters may write to me. They will have nothing better to do, as I shall."

Mr. Darcy looked away.

The Wickhams climbed into their rented hack, Lydia leaning out the window waving her small bouquet at the gathering, of which only Kitty and Mrs. Bennet waved as they were finally taken away.

He turned back at the sound of someone approaching. When he saw it was Elizabeth his formerly severe expression softened.

"Please allow me…to thank you on behalf of all my family, since…they don't know to whom they are indebted."

"If you will thank me, let it be for yourself alone. Your family owes me nothing. As much as I respect them, I believe I thought only of you."

Her smile and fondness directed his way, brought a smile to his lips and a fervent wish that they were anywhere else, alone.

"I understand you and my sister kept in contact."

Elizabeth laughed. "Oh yes, your sister is delightful! We had great merriment exchanging notes." Then her mien turned serious. "I hope you do not mind my subterfuge with your sister, telling her I was unwell. I could not have her calling on me at the inn with my sister Lydia in residence."

He reached out to her but dropped his hand after a glance showed they had her relatives undivided attention. "You behaved as any gentlewoman would." He cleared his throat. "Lady Catherine told me of her meeting with you. I may say that her disclosure had quite the opposite effect to the one she intended." Elizabeth's eyes laughed as she smiled. "I knew that, had you absolutely decided against me, you would have acknowledged it openly."

"Yes, you know enough of my frankness to believe me capable of that!"

They gazed at each other with fondness until the spell was broken by the approach of Mr. Bennet. "Well, we had better depart for the inn. Kitty, I fear, will die of famishment 'ere long."

Mr. Darcy glanced away, his eyes settling on the somber eldest Bennet daughter. "Mr. Bennet and family, Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, I would like to invite you to Pemberley to dine for supper this evening. I am afraid if I invited you for lunch my chef would quit."

Elizabeth's eyes shone as her relatives filled the air with gratitude and excitement. "Thank you, but is not your aunt still in residence?"

He nodded. "I believe an audience may curtail her presumptuous manner. Besides," he glanced at Jane, "there is someone your sister has an acquaintance with currently residing at Pemberley."

His gratification was immediate with the smile on his betrothed's face. He reached out and grabbed her hand, wishing again that they did not have an audience.

"Oh, Lizzy with you married next I will then have two daughters wed. I shall be so lonely with my daughters leaving me!"

Mr. Darcy bowed and excused himself, climbing into his carriage. He would tolerate Elizabeth's mother for her sake, but he would not extend his time subjected to her foibles if possible. Besides, he had to warn Cook to expect eight more for supper.

I'm trying to write as fast as I can!