Christie Capps [Capps - One Bride & Two Grooms

For those who need a reason to smile

Miss Elizabeth Bennet, wilt thou have this man to be thy wedded husband, to live together after Gods ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honor, and keep him, in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?

Before she could reply, the heavy wooden door slammed into the stones lining the entrance to Longbourn chapel. Silence fell over those gathered as they turned to see who dared to disturb the wedding.

She will not, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcys rich baritone filled the silence. He was absolutely in no doubt of his opinion. He knew her as well as he knew himself.

The soles of his finely polished Hessians pounded down the aisle as he, master of Pemberley in Derbyshire, approached the bride and groom, the tails of his great coat billowing behind him. He knew he would be unwelcomed. He cared not. His purpose was not to make friends nor enjoy the celebration. As far as he was concerned, the marriage between Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her fathers cousin, Mr. William Collins, was a travesty of epic proportions.

Mr. Bennet stood and moved alongside his second daughter. Her eldest sister serving as her attendant stepped back, distancing herself from the coming confrontation. The groom sputtered his confusion.

The brides eyes captured and held Darcys attention as he strode towards her. The lack of sparkle; the almost lifeless acceptance of her future tore at him. A trail of tears had already dried on her cheeks, giving evidence of her abhorrence at becoming Mrs. Collins.

Do not worry, my Elizabeth. I will rescue you.

Mr. Collins finally found his voice. You cannot interfere, Mr. Darcy. Your betrothed, your own cousin Miss Anne de Bourgh would be appalled at your actions. Your soon to be mother-in-law, my esteemed patroness Lady Catherine de Bourgh, will hold you in disapprobation for interrupting a religious service.

I am not betrothed. While Darcy knew it was the desire of his aunt that he marry Anne, he had never agreed to the match. Never! He was his own man, not subject to anyone other than Almighty God. Neither should you be forward enough to attempt to attach yourself to this lady.

Mr. Collins grasped the lapels on his coat as his chest swelled in mock piety. I comprehend your meaning, Mr. Darcy. I do know her position is inferior to mine. However, I promised during my offer to never hold Miss Elizabeths poverty against her. That I am heir to her family estate and the current clergyman of Hunsford parish elevates me to a status far above the Bennet family. Mr. Collins snorted. By the by, the rector has already asked if any objected, and no one did. I am afraid, good sir, that you are too late. I will be taking Miss Elizabeth as a bride. She will reside in my house and share my bed. You have no business here. His smirk belied the simpering tone of his voice.

Darcys eyes glanced at the parson only to find the toads eyes leveled at Miss Elizabeths chest as the disgusting mans tongue licked the drool from his lips.

Had they not been in a chapel, Darcy would have wrapped his fingers around the oafs throat and squeezed.

What is the meaning of this? Mr. Bennet demanded, ignoring his wifes practiced swoon and the chortles of his youngest two daughters.

In the blink of an eye, Darcy bent and hefted the bride over his shoulder, quickly spinning to walk out the door. Three steps later, he turned back to Mr. Bennet. She is marrying the wrong groom. She abhors him. She loves only me.

Less than twenty paces later, Darcy deposited her on top of Apollo then mounted the horse behind her. As he dug his heels into the flanks, a rush of spectators pushed through the door behind them. Within seconds, the escaping couple were out of the view of the crowd, the noise of Mr. Collins yelling and Mrs. Bennets wailing receding as Darcy and Miss Elizabeth galloped towards Meryton. They were almost two miles on the other side of the small farming town when Darcy drew to a stop behind his most luxurious carriage. His bride deserved comfort for the long journey to Scotland.

His trunks were packed and loaded at the back. Miss Elizabeths luggage had been picked up by Darcys footmen. They were currently tied to his carriage, not that of the rented hackney obtained by Mr. Collins which had stood at the side of the chapel.

Thank heavens Longbourns housekeeper was a sensible woman. Had she not been so, Darcy would have had to purchase clothing for his bride-to-be as they rushed to Gretna Green. They had no time to lose.

Without a word, Darcy tossed the reins to his groom and lifted Miss Elizabeth from the horse. Keeping her in his arms, he moved to the carriage only to have the door refuse to open. He pulled and pulled. To no avail. No matter how hard he yanked, the door would not budge.

Behind them, Mr. Collins, the remainder of the Bennet family, and the townspeople approached, holding cudgels, clubs, and torchesanger and determination on their faces.

Turning back to the carriage, he pulled with all his might. Nothing.

Yelling at his driver, Darcy tried and tried until the violent crowd was immediately behind them.

The first blow dropped him to his knees as Miss Elizabeth was pulled from his embrace.

No! he yelled. No.....!

* * *

Sir? Darcys valet, Parker, pulled back the curtains to allow daylight to stream into his chambers. Sir? I believe you were having a bad dream. Pray, wake up, Mr. Darcy.

What? Fragments of the nightmare continued to hold him in its grip. His hands quivered as he sat up and pressed his palms over his eyes. Leaning back against the headboard, he strove to clear his head.

Mr. Darcy, you attended Mr. Bingleys ball last evening, retiring but four hours ago. Mr. Bingley will be leaving for London as soon as he wakes. You advised me to have your belongings packed to depart for Pemberley by nine this morning. It is now the eighth hour. Your bath is ready, and your traveling clothes are laid out in your dressing room. A tray has been ordered to break your fast. Is there anything else you desire, sir?