Author Note: Firstly, thank you so much to those leaving comments on my scenes. I really do appreciate the time taken to share your thoughts. We hear a little more from Mr Darcy in this next scene. Likely this will be joined with the previous scene to form a full chapter when I get to the editing round, but for now I'm posting scene by scene, as that is how I work my way through the first draft.
Enjoy!

Forcing himself back to the task at hand, Darcy barely broke his stride as he passed through the vestibule and into the church. From the chatter he could hear from those congregated inside, he remained hopeful he had arrived in time to perform his duties as groomsman.

As his sight acclimated to the light inside the building, Darcy saw he had indeed arrived in time, though it was apparent the bride had not. He passed his gaze over the small congregation before drawing the attention of his friend.

"Darcy!" Bingley stood by the altar with his sisters and his brother-in-law, Mr Hurst if Darcy recalled correctly.

At the call of his name, those in the congregation fell silent and turned to inspect him. Darcy made his way to his friend, doing his best to avoid eye contact with those who watched him. From his brief purview he'd noted a number of women in the group, young women at that, and he'd learned long ago that women, particularly the mothers of young women, were wont to attribute any manner of meaning to the simplest of gestures.

It seemed a universal truth that mothers of young women maintained a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. Darcy stumbled over the realisation that he was indeed now in want of a wife.

"Oh, Mr Darcy." Bingley's sister gestured him to join them. "Come, there is little time to spare. You simply must help us convince our brother of the mistake he is making."

With thoughts of finding a wife on his mind, Darcy took a moment to assess Miss Bingley as she reached out to touch his arm. Though Bingley himself had never made comment, Miss Bingley had made no secret of her interest in becoming Mrs Darcy.

While Darcy had never encouraged her attentions, nor had he given thought enough to discourage them. He took a moment now to consider the notion. Miss Bingley was not a handsome woman, though nor could she be called plain. Rather, Darcy found her features sharp, her nose somewhat resembling a bird beak.

He tried to envision her as his wife, as Mistress of Pemberley, as the mother of his children, but found himself unable to cast her in any such role. Again, unbidden thoughts of the dark-haired woman by the roadside entered his mind.

"Yes, Darcy, come. Explain to me in ways my sisters are unable why it would be so foolish of me to marry the most handsome, kind-natured gentlewoman I have ever had the good fortune to know."

Darcy's response was interrupted by raucous laughter followed by an extremely unladylike snort. His attention was drawn to three young ladies sitting in the front pew. The eldest appeared to be studying the bible held tightly in her hands. The other two were no more than girls, barely older than Georgiana. They were entirely unaware of those around them as they giggled to each other.

Miss Bingley gestured to the girls. "There. Can you believe, Mr Darcy, that Charles would have us accept such ill-mannered girls as our sisters?"

"Well, Caroline, you are most welcome to return to London with our sister and Mr Hurst, where there would be no need to concern yourself with familial ties to the Bennet sisters."

"Oh if only we could be in London, Charles. You should be marrying a woman of standing. A noblewoman, perhaps. And we should be at St George's church, as befitting a member of the ton, with all our friends in attendance. Not here." She gestured to their surroundings. "This town holds so little significance, I should not be surprised if the papers refused to run the announcement!"

"Caroline!"

Darcy could only recall hearing such a severe tone from his friend on one previous occasion. He was surprised to hear Bingley direct such harshness towards his sister.

Miss Bingley stepped back slightly, before straightening her back and raising her chin. Interceding before words could be said in anger, Darcy guided Miss Bingley back to her seat and waited as her sister and Mr Hurst joined her.

"Please, Mr Darcy, if there's anyone whose opinion Charles will regard, it is yours. If it were a true love match I would never interfere…"

"What makes you believe it is not a love match? From your brother's letters, he believes himself very much in love with Miss Bennet."

"Of course Charles believes himself to be in love. Charles is always falling in and out of love." Caroline looked again to the ill-mannered girls who were to soon be associated with her family. "I fear my brother is behaving in a rash and foolhardy manner. He has failed to take into consideration the consequence his marriage to a simple country girl will have on our family's tentative position in the ton."

Darcy said nothing as he returned to his friend's side. Bingley watched the entry as he fussed with the cuffs of his jacket.

"Control yourself, man. You appear as skittish as a newborn foal. Surely, if the notion of marriage affects your nerves so greatly, it should be cause to re-examine the offer?"

Bingley dropped his hands by his side, but did not pull his gaze from the entry. "I fear something has happened to Miss Bennet and her family. Mrs Bennet insisted they arrive by carriage, though it is but a mile from Longbourn. Had there been issue with the carriage, they still should have had time to arrive on foot."

"Perhaps you are the victim of a jilt. It has only been a matter of weeks that you have known Miss Bennet. How can you be so sure—"

"When you meet Jane—Miss Bennet—you will understand how I can be so sure, Darcy."

Darcy opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the distressed complaints of an older woman entering the church. He spent little time examining the woman who could only be the mother of his friend's bride, as his attention was caught by the woman who entered next.

It was the very woman whose features had been haunting his thoughts since the moment he saw her by the side of her carriage. He watched as she approached, her expression filled with nothing but joy as she looked to Bingley.

Darcy swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Was this the Miss Bennet who had so thoroughly captured his friend's heart? She did not appear as classically handsome as Bingley had led him to believe, but there was a liveliness to her demeanor that Darcy found himself drawn to.

She approached Bingley and curtsied before turning to face Darcy. Her eyes widened in recognition. She again curtsied but as she looked up her expression had changed. No longer did her eyes hold the joy they'd shown when she addressed Bingley. Now they were filled with fire.

The woman moved to the side. As she did, Darcy noticed her gown. While an attempt had been made to clean it, he could clearly see mud spatters across the skirt. Heat filled his cheeks as he realised the reason for her ire.

She glared at him a moment longer before diverting her gaze to the entry. As she, Bingley, and he presumed all others in the church watched Bingley's bride approach, Darcy's attention was held solely by the dark-haired woman.

He studied her features. She confused him. She certainly would not be considered a classically handsome woman in the eyes of the ton, and yet Darcy could not tear his gaze from her. He willed her to turn to him again with those fiery eyes, relishing in the thought that he had roused such strong opinion.

Author note: Good luck, Mr Darcy. I think you're going to need it!