Chapter Twenty-Nine

Posted on: 2008-09-25

Elizabeth yawned and stretched. The sounds of the city below spoke of the hour, but her lids were not ready to welcome the morning. It took but a moment to recall the cause for her drowsiness, and a sleepy smile peeked out. The image of her betrothed filled her heart and mind, and a warm tingle coursed through her. She released a giggle into her pillow.

A knock on the door finally forced her from her imaginings. Expecting her maid, Penny, she threw back the covers; back to reality. Then, remembering her resolve, she jumped from the bed with new vigour. It was time to become Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy, Mistress of Pemberley.

After a tiring morning of lessons, Elizabeth climbed the steps to her aunt and uncle's home on Gracechurch Street. The familiar noise and pervasive aroma of the area worked to ease the tension of the last few weeks from her. Here, she was just Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, not Elizabeth Bennet, the soon to be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. She hoped the visit would rejuvenate her spirits so she could brave her remaining time at Lanelle House.

Not wholly unexpected, her aunt answered the door and immediately drew her into a warm embrace. Realizing how devoid of such tender feeling her time with Lady Matlock had been, she clung to her aunt, drawing both strength and comfort.

After the usual pleasantries, and taking a moment to greet her uncle, the two ladies settled into the drawing room for tea.

"Lizzy, you look tired. Are you feeling well?"

"I am fine, Aunt." She paused, unsure of how much to tell her aunt. She did not want Aunt Gardiner to worry unnecessarily. "There is just a great number of things to do... and it is taking me longer to adjust than I had anticipated."

Aunt Gardiner nodded slowly, reading between the lines. "How was sitting for your portrait? I do wish we could capture the children's likeness." With a chuckle she added, "Though it would be a miracle if I could make them all sit still long enough."

"It went well," Elizabeth responded, using the drawing room face and tone she had been practicing. "Fitzwilliam was kind enough to ensure I did not get bored." Unbidden, a smile broke free and lit her whole being.

"And plans for your presentation? I have heard the gowns can be quite elaborate."

Elizabeth let out light laugh, and went on to describe the large hoops required, the feathers, ribbons and lace.

"It does all sound very grand." Noticing her niece did not share in the excitement, Aunt Gardiner questioned her further.

It took less cajoling than expected before Elizabeth began speaking of her experience with Madame ______. Once she began, she could not stop, and all that had occurred at Lanelle House, coupled with her frustration, came pouring out. At the end, she let out a cleansing breath and turned a sheepish smile to her aunt. "I apologize, Aunt. I did not mean to tell anyone else my burdens."

Aunt Gardiner squeezed her hand. "With all that pressure, I am not surprised. Are you certain you wish to follow through with this engagement, Lizzy? No one would fault you if you did not."

"I have made a promise, Aunt. I can not back out now."

"Surely Mr. Darcy would not wish you to marry him if it will make you unhappy. I seem to recall you telling me he had given you leave to break the engagement if you desired."

"If I fell in love with someone else, I can break the engagement." Elizabeth clarified. "Besides, I could not disappoint Georgiana. She has become like a sister to me." She forced an almost believable smile. "Please, Aunt. Do not worry yourself. I shall be fine. In another se'ennight I shall return to Longbourn."

"If you are certain, I shall say nothing. But truly Lizzy, I do not wish to see you unhappily settled."

"I am quite determined, Aunt. It will take only a little more practice on my part." Though her words were confident, her tone was not.

Silence settled between them.

"I know you feel honour-bound, Lizzy, but I can only think you take too much on yourself."

"How can I not, when it means my family's security?"

"A man of half Mr. Darcy's consequence could provide the same security. Are you certain Mr. Darcy worth all this exertion?"

Elizabeth could only nod, and once again the only sound to be heard was that from the drinking of tea.

On a suspicion, Mrs. Gardiner asked, "Lizzy, do you love, Mr. Darcy?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened and she nearly dropped her cup. "No! No. We are only friends." She had only admitted her admiration to herself; she was not ready to speak on it with anyone else. When her aunt said nothing, she reiterated the default reason for the marriage. "He needed a companion for his sister, else he would not have offered to me. He has no tender attachment to me."

Noticing the way Elizabeth flustered, Aunt Gardiner said, "Lizzy, I understand you care for Mr. Darcy, and his sister, and do not want to disappoint them, but he knew who you were when he proposed marriage. If he wanted a lady of the ton, he would not have offered for you."

"I am only afraid he may come to regret his decision, and our friendship will suffer because of it." A sense of dread and insecurity resurfaced in Elizabeth.

Their conversation was cut short by the sound of loud whispers just outside the door. Elizabeth looked at her aunt amusedly, who then called out, "Come in children and say hello to your cousin."

Elizabeth could not help but laugh as all four cousins raced into the room, each trying to garner her attention by talking louder than the others. For the remainder of the afternoon, Elizabeth played with her cousins, while talking casually with her aunt about news from Longbourn, the upcoming wedding, and other goings-on.

While Elizabeth was visiting her family, Darcy called on his aunt, who was genuinely happy to see him. After the two settled into a small sitting room with tea and biscuits, Darcy said, "I wish to speak with you about Elizabeth. Georgiana and I have a few outings in mind, but I did not wish to interfere with Elizabeth's preparations."

Lady Matlock hesitated. "There is still much to do be done, but I see no reason why she can not join you for a few hours here and there."

"I was under the impression that preparations for her court presentation were all but completed. Elizabeth mentioned her gown would need a final fitting, but everything else was decided."

"They are, but there are other things she must learn if she is to be mistress of both Pemberley and Arryndale."

"You believe her incapable of running a house?" His expression and tone showed his disagreement.

Lady Matlock shrugged indifferently. "She shall do well. She is intelligent, and takes her duties seriously. Her diligence in practicing the pianoforte is evident."

"And so you thought to have her practice her letters too?"

Lady Matlock stared at her nephew for a moment, weighing her next words. "She shall be responsible for writing out many invitations, Fitzwilliam. A lady's handwriting says many things about her."

"I had thought it was more important to judge a person by their words and actions."

"Really, Fitzwilliam. You know the ton will be looking to find fault. I was merely trying to mitigate their means of attack."

"There was nothing wrong with Miss Elizabeth's hand before."

"Perhaps not from a man's perspective..."

"From anyone's perspective." His tone was harsh and unyielding. "There was no reason to press her in this manner; I will ask you to cease now."

"I did what I thought was best. I was only looking out for your best interest." She quickly amended, "And Elizabeth's."

"How are you serving me by driving away the one person I..." He paused, realizing what he almost said. More composed, he said, "A scandal caused by a broken engagement at this late date can hardly be beneficial to anyone in our family."

"You asked me to help her assume her duties, and I have." She stood, and prepared herself another cup of tea. "She needed to understand there was more to being a Darcy than fine garments and carriages. If she was not up to the challenge, it would be better for both of you to learn that now."

Darcy glared at his aunt, thunderstruck. He set down his cup and saucer with a loud clank. "You were testing her! You think her a fortune hunter!" His face began to flush. "Pray, what conclusion have you come to?" The sneer in his voice was unbridled.

"Really, Fitzwilliam. Knowing her situation, who would not? I have only sought to ensure she could present herself amongst the ton as an accomplished lady. A great deal will be expected of her. She needed to be prepared for that."

He wondered if she knew how much she sounded like Lady Catherine. He would hold that card for later. "She will be my wife. If I have no qualms about her abilities, neither should anyone else."

"Fitzwilliam..."

"No!" Darcy interrupted sharply. "Either you treat her with the respect due my wife, or I will remove her from your house immediately." The intensity of his stare and his rigid posture said he would brook no opposition.

"Of course," Lady Matlock obliged. "She may remain at Lanelle House until she returns to Hertfordshire, as a guest. Will that suit?"

He eyed his aunt, suspicious of her easy acquiescence, but his options were limited. He was ill prepared to return Elizabeth to Longbourn without his accompaniment, and did not wish to jeopardize her presentation at court by angering his aunt. He would assent for the time being, but he would also take his own measures to ensure Elizabeth's well being. "I thank you for your assistance. Miss Elizabeth's debut would have been more difficult without it."

With that matter put to rest, they conversed on the upcoming wedding, their respective travel plans, and Darcy's plans for after the wedding. It was agreed that Georgiana would return to London with the Matlocks, but remain at Arryndale with Mrs. Annesley. Lady Matlock offered to look in on her on occasion, until he and Elizabeth returned for the Season.

As he was preparing to leave, Lady Matlock drew herself up, though her mien was tender. "Fitzwilliam, I would like you to know I will be proud to call your Elizabeth my niece. You may not approve of my methods, but I had to satisfy my own conscience. Marcus goaded you into the engagement, and I had to know Miss Elizabeth was not taking advantage the circumstances. I would not have you taken in by an upstart because of Marcus' pride. Miss Elizabeth is everything you have said her to be."

Somewhat mollified by his aunt's explanation, but not quite ready to forgive her presumption, Darcy bit down on the sharp retort that hung from the tip of tongue and merely said, "Again, I thank you, Aunt." Then he left the house.

By the time Elizabeth had returned to Lanelle House for dinner, she was in much better spirits. Her mood was further raised upon seeing a note from Jane. She had been wondering when news would come, but noticing the direction on the letter had been written very ill explained the delay.

With little time before dinner, she scampered to her rooms to read the missive and ready herself.

Longbourn
Meryton, Hertfordshire

March 14, 18--

Dear Lizzy,

I was so pleased to read your letter. Your days sound tiring, even to me, but I have no fear you will represent yourself and Mr. Darcy admirably. But do take care, Lizzy. I would not like to hear of you becoming ill while so far from home.

It is very kind of Lady Matlock to give you so much of her time and introduce you around town. Surely, it will make your Season that much more enjoyable.

It is good to be back in the bosom of my family. Kitty and Lydia fought for nearly an hour over the gloves and ribbons I brought them from London, but since then have contented themselves with putting them to good use.

Mama has decided that everyone is in need of new gowns for your wedding, and so there are regular trips into Meryton. This, of course, pleases Kitty and Lydia to no end, and seems to be an adequate distraction from the departure of the militia.

Longbourn is much as it has always been. Mama's nerves are frequently under attack as the wedding nears. I am doing my best to temper her wishes, but you know how headstrong she can be. Even as I write, Mama has asked me to implore you one last time for a ball. She is quite certain that Mr. Darcy and his relations expect one.

Do not fret, Lizzy. I know my soon to be brother would not wish one, and I shall remain your champion.

While London has much to entertain, I find myself quite content with the simplicity of the country.

Your loving sister,

Jane

Dear, sweet Jane, always determined to see the good in a situation. There was still a hint of melancholy, but her spirits did seem revived. Elizabeth noted the absence of any remark over Colonel Fitzwilliam or Mr. Bingley, and once again wondered the state of her sister's affections for either man. If only Jane were still in London.

A knock on the door came, and as it was time to dress, Elizabeth tucked her letter away. She would think more on the matter later.

At dinner that night Lady Matlock spent a great deal of time itemizing the remainder of the required preparations, as well as a few other household matters. She was polite and formal as she had always been, but there was something different in her tone. There was no implied criticism, nor exasperation nor pointed looks in Elizabeth's direction. She was simply stating a fact. It was the most enjoyable meal Elizabeth had at Lanelle House, save the few that Darcy and Georgiana had attended.

After dinner, Lady Matlock claimed to have no interest in music and suggested they adjourn to her small private parlour for coffee and cakes. Elizabeth did her best not to appear dumbfounded. It had become tradition that after dinner, Elizabeth performed on the pianoforte while Lady Matlock and Lady Fitzwilliam critiqued her playing. She felt torn. Now that she was up for the challenge, it no longer seemed to be an issue. She could only wonder at the change.

Once everyone was settled, Lady Matlock asked politely, "Did you enjoy your afternoon with your aunt, Miss Elizabeth? I trust everyone is well?"

Elizabeth stalled for a moment, expecting some additional commentary, along the vein of how the visit had held up her lessons, but there was none. More stupefying, both ladies appeared genuinely interested. "It was lovely," she said cautiously. "The children were a bit under the weather last week, but have rebounded."

There was a polite chuckle before moving on to other topics. There was some discourse on the upcoming season, particularly the other debutantes. There was talk of secret engagements, speculation on who would be the toast of the season, and potential matches.

Unfamiliar with many of the families being spoken of, Elizabeth contented herself to listen and take careful mental notes as Lady Matlock had instructed. Dowries, incomes, potential matches, and connections were bandied about. Elizabeth was amused to find Lord Blakeslee offered as a potential match for many of them. His title, income and good name were all greatly prized.

She could not help noticing, though, that in all the matches considered, not once was the compatibility of personalities questioned. The realization made her pity the subjects. Charlotte's marriage was an easy reminder that marriage could not always be about esteem and friendship, but to have those qualities so completely dismissed was new to her. It was not people being discussed, but strategies for building empires. Once again she counted her blessing to be marrying someone she loved - even if he only offered friendship in return.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lady Matlock stated, "Fitzwilliam suggested a stroll through Kew Gardens tomorrow. Do you have any objections, Miss Elizabeth?"

Startled at being addressed directly, Elizabeth exclaimed, "No!" She blushed, and waited for the expected chastisement for her lack of attention. When it did not come, she said demurely, "That sounds lovely, if the weather is agreeable."

Shortly after that, the ladies dispersed, and Elizabeth was left alone, without instruction or expectation of how to occupy her time. She adjourned to her room a little baffled. Not once that evening had Lady Matlock corrected her, mentioned lessons or practicing, or even sent an admonishing look. Her thoughts as to possible reasons why lasted only as long as it took to get to her rooms. She had more constructive things to do. She owed Jane a letter, and then decided to follow-up on the language lessons she had earlier that day.

The next week passed quickly. Mornings were spent making and receiving calls with Lady Matlock and Lady Fitzwilliam. When there were no visitors, each lady was left to their own devices. During those times, Elizabeth would pass time in the front parlour working on any number of activities, from language studies, to drawing, and even devoted a little time to casual reading.

Afternoons were always spent in the company of Darcy and Georgiana. Either Elizabeth would call at Arryndale or the three would visit one of the sights of town.

Their first interaction since Elizabeth's realization was a bit stilted, as she was now unsure how to act. Suddenly, the kisses on the hand meant more to her, and she began second guessing all of her words and actions. Had she upset him? Did he enjoy her teasing? Had she gone too far with it? Had she betrayed her feelings? Worse, she began analyzing all of his actions, looking for hints of his regard, only to dismiss them as nothing but friendly gestures.

After ruining a perfectly good tour of the Gardens with superfluous analysis of every look, word, and deed, she had enough. For the remainder of their outings, she did her best to be her usual self. That is not to say she did not readily take his arm when it was offered, walk a little closer to him than in the past, appreciate moments Georgiana conspicuously left them alone, or flirt just a little more than she was wont.

The few times she thought she detected admiration from Fitzwilliam, she quickly scolded herself with a firm reminder that he saw her only as a friend. Still, for one with an active imagination, it was not difficult to envision more tender scenes.

She revelled in the attention he showered on her, only questioning a few times the sudden change in her daily routines.

On one of Elizabeth's final nights in London, Darcy planned a surprise. Having learned of her preference for Mozart, he arranged for him, Georgiana and Elizabeth to attend a showing of Les Mystères d'Isis¹ at the King's Theatre.

Elizabeth nearly squealed with excitement upon seeing the title printed on the libretto. She looked up at him, her face aglow with delight. "Oh, Fitzwilliam. I have wanted to see this! The reviews from the continent were most intriguing."

Darcy covered her hand with his. "Are you well pleased?"

Elizabeth felt her heart might explode. The warmth of his hand covering hers was almost too much. She had to look away. "Very much! Thank you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy fought against the urge to pull her tightly against him. Seeing such glee in her face made his heart soar.

The theatre was quite crowded, but Darcy's expertise had them seated without too much fanfare. And before long, the lights of theatre dimmed.

Elizabeth watched the performance with rapt attention. As the ladies gathered around Tamino, the handsome prince - each trying to claim him for herself - she thought of her own Tamino, seated next to her. She turned to look at him. Seeing him looking back at her, she blushed and turned her attention back to the stage.

As she watched the second act, Elizabeth was brought to tears as Pamina sang of the pain of a love lost, a love regretted.

Ah ‘tis gone, ‘tis gone for ever,
Happy dream, twill ne'er come
Ne'er again to cheer me
Hours of joy that once I knew.

O Tamino, only hear me!
Must I suffer thy disdain?
If no longer thou dost love me,
Only death can end my pain.²

What would she do if Darcy came to regret the match as Tamino appeared to? Her heart ached anew. At least Pamina had known the pleasure of being loved. She would not even have that.

A strong hand on hers startled her. She looked down, to see a handkerchief being pressed into it. Fitzwilliam. She dared not to look at him. Her sentiments could not be concealed. It would be better to have him believe her touched by the opera than expose the truth. Someday, she would tell him of her feelings - when the time was right - but not now.

She took the proffered linen and dried her eyes, taking a moment to savour his scent on it. She knew she should return the article, but was not ready to give up the intimacy of holding something of his.

By the conclusion of the play, Elizabeth was in better spirits. The lovers had endured the House of Ordeals, and would live happily ever after. Hopefully she and Fitzwilliam would share that same fate.

As the curtains closed, a resounding cheer rose from the crowd, and shortly thereafter, the three made their way out front to wait for their carriage. Georgiana was silently standing nearby, while Elizabeth contemplated the handkerchief in her hand. How easy it would be to pretend she had mistaken it for her own, and place it in her reticule for safekeeping.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself this evening," Darcy said, startling her.

"It was lovely." Elizabeth replied, feeling much like a child trying to hide a stolen biscuit. Sternly reminding herself the state of affairs with the cloth's proper owner, she reluctantly returned it. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy accepted it, trying not to let his disappointment show. He had hoped she would keep it, as a token. He would have understood if she had been too shy to ask and simply slipped it into her pocket. Had she kept it, it would have been the sign he had been waiting for. Its return, however, spoke just as loudly. He was still but a friend to her.

In an effort to keep from betraying his thoughts, he turned to his sister. "I suppose you will want the music score, even if I have to send to Germany for it."

Georgiana giggled but nodded. "There were so many delightful pieces. I would love to learn any one of them." She looked at Elizabeth. "We could play duets. I would not even mind being Tamino."

Elizabeth laughed. "My dear, you are far too beautiful, and your voice too sweet to be mistaken for Tamino. Do you not agree, Fitzwilliam?"

A slight smirk was his only response before their carriage appeared. All conversation ceased until it stopped in front of Lanelle House.

Elizabeth and Georgiana opted to say their goodbyes in the carriage, before Darcy handed down Elizabeth. As he walked to the front doors of the house, he said, "I fear we shall not be able to see each other again until we travel to Hertfordshire."

"You are to travel with me?" Elizabeth asked surprised. "I had thought you were to follow just a few days before the wedding?"

"There has been a change of plans that was only confirmed this afternoon. Georgiana and I shall escort you to Longbourn, if you have no objection."

Elizabeth smiled. "Of course not. It shall help the time on the road pass more quickly."

"Very well. We shall travel together." As the Matlock's butler was now waiting for Elizabeth to enter, Darcy bid his farewell with a kiss on her hand. "Good night, Elizabeth."

A tingle flew up Elizabeth's arm, causing her heart to tumble recklessly in her chest. His tone and manner were so gentle and soft, it was easy to imagine this was a parting of lovers. She knew it was not.

"Good night, Fitzwilliam." Heedless of the waiting servant, she watched as the carriage pulled away and then whispered, "My love."

¹ The Italian interpretation of Mozart's The Magic Flute was the first performance of the opera in London.
² These words are from the English translation of Mozart's Magic Flute.

Chapter Thirty

Posted on: 2008-10-02

The day of Elizabeth's return to Longbourn was met with much less fanfare than she expected. Perhaps it was because her memories of travelling in a large party always involved her mother and sisters. Or, it may have been she simply expected a high degree of chaos because those travelling included not only the Darcys, but also the Matlocks and Blakeslees.

The day proceeded, however, in the sedate manner she had grown accustomed to at Lanelle House. There were perhaps a few more servants moving about, but there were no loud calls for salts, or bickering over purloined parasols, gloves, or ribbons ringing through the house.

There was a slight bustle at the front door - upon the arrival of the Darcy carriage - as greetings were exchanged and Elizabeth donned her travel cloak, gloves and bonnet. Then, after receiving assurances the Matlocks would meet them later in the day in Hertfordshire, Darcy, Georgiana, and Elizabeth exited and made for the carriage.

"Are you pleased to be returning home, Elizabeth?" Georgiana asked. "I always look forward to returning to Pemberley."

Elizabeth looked to Darcy, who was staring at her oddly, and then to Georgiana. She grasped the young girl's hand in her own. "I must own I do miss my home. London's walking paths can hardly compare to Hertfordshire's." She flashed a small smile at Darcy and said, "Though I do believe I shall be quite content at Pemberley."

Georgiana gasped softly and blushed, realizing her faux pas. "Oh, I am sorry."

"Think nothing of it, Georgiana. It is the natural way of things." She squeezed the girl's hand. "Some day you will have to say goodbye to Pemberley." She dared a glance at Darcy and not unexpectedly saw him now wearing a deep scowl. With her eyes full of mischief, she said, "Though from your brother's countenance, it shall be a great number of years before he allows it."

Georgiana's eyes widened noticing Darcy's dark glare, but then she too giggled. "At least I know you will not allow him to scare off every suitor. Else, I might die a spinster." She placed a dramatic hand against her forehead, causing the two to dissolve into laughter as Darcy grumbled under his breath.

Had either lady been able to read his thoughts, they would know it was not Georgiana and her prospects that were foremost.

Seeing his sister giggle and tease warmed him as much as any hearth could, but knowing it was Elizabeth who had brought about the change in her, made his heart swell to enormous proportions. He crossed his arms over his chest -- as if they were needed to contain the love he felt -- and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. The words of the opera once again rang through his head.

The prince had sung about his Pamina.

Was ever maiden half so fair?
I know not if ‘tis joy or pain
That overwhelms my reeling brain.

Oh could I only kneel before her!
Tell her how madly I adore her!
And fearing, hoping - maid divine!
Ah, what would I?

Within these arms I would enfold her,
To this my burning heart fast hold her,
And so forever were she mine.¹

Those words had haunted him from the moment he heard them. It was as if Mozart had written that piece just for him. How had he so aptly captured all he felt?

That night at the theatre, it had taken every ounce of his self-discipline not to turn to Elizabeth as those words flowed from the stage. If she had discovered him staring at her at that moment, it would have been as loud as any verbal admission he could make. And when he declared himself, it would certainly not be at the King's Theatre!

He surreptitiously patted the pocket that held the handkerchief Elizabeth had used that night, and swallowed his frustration. Had she kept the simple square of linen, it would have been the sign he longed for. When they returned to Longbourn, he would have taken her to Oakham Mount and bared his soul. On bended knee, he would have once again asked her to be his wife, this time not only in the eyes of society, but also in heart, mind and body.

How sweet he imagined her response to be. She would fall into his arms, and promise to be his for all eternity. He would pull her close, finally taste her sweet lips, and pour out his heart to her.

He closed his eyes and laid his head back against the carriage, willing the stomach flutters his imagination had caused to calm. Follow the plan, he reminded himself. A confession before the wedding could ruin everything. Afterwards, however, was entirely different. He had not planned when or where, but he would tell Elizabeth all he felt. For his own sanity, he had to! Perhaps at Pemberley, just before they returned to London.

Though the sky was grey and threatened rain, the roads were in good condition. So it was, that even with two stops, they still made Meryton in the mid-afternoon. The excitement that was absent in London greeted Elizabeth at Longbourn. The carriage had just come to a stop when Mr. Bennet and Jane could be seen exiting the house.

The moment her foot was on the ground, Elizabeth walked hurriedly towards her sister and caught her in a tight embrace. "Jane, it is so good to see you," she laughed, entirely missing the words Jane whispered.

A few moments later, Elizabeth greeted her father with an affectionate hug and kiss on the cheek. Oh how she had missed her family; all of them! After a brief exchange of greetings to the other members of the travelling part, everyone was led inside where the rest of the family waited.

As she made her way to the parlour, Elizabeth could not help looking around the house, taking in every detail. The small tear in the wall fabric, the dirty corners the maids never seemed to be able to clean, the worn path across the carpet in the hallway. It had none of the opulence of either Arryndale or Lanelle, yet she found it endearing. A part of her was saddened with the knowledge that in little more than a se'nnight, she would have to say goodbye to it all.

"Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy," Mrs. Bennet greeted charmingly. She spared Elizabeth a pleased smile. "It is so good to see you again. I am delighted to hear you will be bringing so many of your friends and family. I am looking forward to introducing them all to my girls." Elizabeth cringed. They had not so much as sat down for tea before her mother began making a spectacle of herself. She shot Darcy an apologetic smile.

Seeing Elizabeth's discomfort, Darcy did his best to appear nonplussed. "I assure you, Mrs. Bennet, your pleasure is only exceeded by my own." He then took the offered seat.

"Did your cousin, the colonel, not travel with you?" Mrs. Bennet inquired, looking at the door in expectation.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam has been called to duty, Madam. Unfortunately, he will be unable to attend the wedding."

"Not attend? But he was to be your groomsman!" Mrs. Bennet wailed. "My Lydia was so looking forward to making his acquaintance again."

"You were mistaken, Madam," Darcy replied stiffly. "That office had always been intended for my friend Lord Blakeslee. Had I intended Colonel Fitzwilliam to stand up with me, his duty to the King would certainly pre-empt any he might feel towards me."

Elizabeth was about to interrupt and change the topic of conversation, but was forestalled by her mother's excited exclamations. "Lord Blakeslee? An earl? When will he arrive? Did he travel with you?"

"He arrives this afternoon, with rest of my family."

Seeing an opening, Elizabeth interrupted. Knowing her mother's penchant for lace and gowns, she began speaking of her many shopping excursions with Lady Matlock and Lady Fitzwilliam. The ploy worked, and though Darcy's attention was directed towards Georgiana and Jane, Elizabeth was relieved to see him more relaxed.

However, all good things must eventually end, and Mrs. Bennet once again demanded the attention of her soon to be son. "Mr. Darcy, you must enlighten me to the particulars of your guests. I would have all their favourites."

All eyes turned towards Darcy as he named the guests who would be staying with him at the Great House at Stoke: Lord Blakeslee and his mother, and Lord and Lady Matlock, as well the viscount and his wife and son.

"But I had heard you were to bring seven gentlemen," Mrs. Bennet protested. "Does Mr. Bingley not attend you?"

Elizabeth immediately jerked her attention to Jane, hoping to ascertain something from her sister's reaction. Jane, however, being ever adept at hiding her feelings, simply sat with her usual serene look upon her face. The only hint of disturbance was her slightly pursed lips.

"La!" Lydia sang. "What I want to know is will there be any officers amongst your party?" To this, Kitty joined Lydia in a loud giggle. "The regiment is to leave Hertfordshire, and father will not allow me to travel with the Forsters, even though I was invited." She shot a smug look to Kitty.

Blushing from head to toe, Elizabeth contemplated whether or not Lady Matlock might be amenable to another student, or three or four.

Though Darcy's posture was rigid, and his face blank, he maintained politeness. "I am sorry to disappoint you, Madam. Mr. Bingley had business that could not be delayed, but will attend the wedding. My friend, Mr. Woodall and his family were also unable to attend, as Mrs. Woodall is still in her confinement."

Mrs. Bennet hmmphed, and Elizabeth quickly steered the conversation to other topics such as the sights of London, and the opera she had attended. Shortly thereafter, the Darcys stood to take their leave.

That evening, Jane and Elizabeth retired to their room early. Though her trunks had been unpacked, she had to begin the process of determining which things were to go with her, and what would remain behind for her sisters.

As she rifled through the drawers in her armoire, she said cheerfully, "Tell me everything I have missed, Jane."

"There is not much to tell, Lizzy. Mother is as you would expect, and father continues to pass time in his study."

"Was papa very angry over Colonel Fitzwilliam?" It was an awkward way to raise the subject, but Elizabeth knew no other way.

Jane blushed and shook her head mutely. "He inquired over his intentions and my preference for him. I informed him the colonel had been sent to the continent. Papa said nothing more about it after that."

Elizabeth put a consoling hand on Jane's shoulder, and then dropped a pile of ribbons and box of beads on the bed. "I am certain there is nothing to fear." She was careful to keep her tone upbeat, despite her own concern. "I have heard that there are very few battles, and with the colonel's rank, he may not see combat at all."

Jane returned a half smile. "But now Lizzy, you must tell of all your preparations. You sounded rather discouraged in your letters."

Elizabeth allowed her sister to change the subject and did her best to make light of her time at Lanelle house. Indeed, the last week, and the time spent with Darcy, had done a lot to lessen the trial that might have been.

Together, two sisters laughed and teased one another, both understanding such moments would be few and far between after the wedding.

So light was the mood, that Elizabeth was taken aback when the conversation suddenly turned serious once again.

"Lizzy, are you certain you wish to marry Mr. Darcy?" Jane queried.

"Of course I do!" came the emphatic reply. She cringed seeing Jane's poor attempt at hiding a giggle.

"Do you love him?"

Elizabeth buried her face in her hands. When she looked up, she did not have to look in the mirror to know her cheeks glowed. "I shall admit this only to you, my dearest sister." After an excited pause she said, "I do love him; with all my heart. He truly is the best of men." Feeling the heat in her cheeks growing, she hid her face once again. It felt so good to finally tell someone! Now she could marry Fitzwilliam Darcy, and patiently wait for the right moment to tell him all that was in her heart.

"Oh, Lizzy! I am so very happy for you!" Jane gushed with a happy trill. "I knew it was only a matter of time before..."

Elizabeth looked up sharply. She had to stop Jane before she did something horrible! "Please Jane, you must not say a word. He does not love me the same way. I would not want him to feel awkward or obliged to me. It would ruin our friendship, and that is the worst thing that could ever happen. You must promise me you will not say a word to anyone!"

She let out the breath she had been holding when Jane solemnly replied, "I promise, Lizzy. I shall not say a word. But I think you would do well to be honest with Mr. Darcy."

Jane was wrong. Elizabeth was certain of it. "We have agreed to a marriage of friends. I shall not change the terms of our agreement now." The last thing she wanted was for Darcy to discover her feelings now. While he showed a preference for her company, it was only because he did not perform well amongst strangers; it was no indication of a deeper attachment.

The next week Longbourn was a bustle of activity. Elizabeth was busy taking her leave of the area's four and twenty families. When she was not making or receiving calls, she was assisting her mother with wedding plans.

Darcy, too, was busy with guests of his own -- the Blakeslees and the Matlocks, who had arrived in Hertfordshire several hours after Darcys -- to look after, though he, along with Lord Blakeslee, made a point of being regular visitors at Longbourn. With the large number of people both at Longbourn and the Great House at Stoke though, the betrothed couple had very little time to speak in private. On one particular afternoon, however, they managed to leave their confining duties and made their way Oakham Mount.

Lord Blakeslee trailed behind with Jane, affording them some privacy.

Noticing the thin line of Darcy's mouth, Elizabeth teased, "Does the weather not suit, sir? I shall speak to my mother about it directly. Though I do not think the weather listens overly much to her, I am certain she would not like to see you so put out."

Darcy shook his head at her teasing. "I apologize. I was simply enjoying the country air. I did not know you were so desirous of conversation." Once again, he looked back towards the others.

"Only a little," Elizabeth said archly. "By the by, I might comment on the scent of rain in the air, and you might share why the arrangement behind us captures your attention so completely. But for now we may be silent."

Darcy could not but chuckle at her inquiry, so delightfully put. "Oh no, my lady. If it is conversation you wish, conversation you shall have. I am only concerned for your sister's sensibilities. I should have known there was a reason Wesley did not object to an early departure."

Elizabeth could not help laughing, but gently squeezed the arm she was holding as an expression of her gratitude for his concern. "Fitzwilliam, do not concern yourself. It is but a week. I do not think either of them could form an attachment so quickly."

"It is not the first time they have met. A week under such circumstances could --" He abruptly stopped realizing what he was about to confess. "I do not wish your sister's expectations to be raised."

"I do not think there is anything to fear on that end," Elizabeth replied thoughtfully. She realized Jane had not mentioned Lord Blakeslee in any of their conversations. They had only discussed Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Bingley on occasion. "Jane is well aware of his station, and must know he is expected to make an excellent match."

"Is it certain Mr. Bingley will attend the wedding?" Elizabeth inquired. Her tone attempted to hide her apprehension.

"It is. Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth. He has already stated Miss Bingley would remain in town." He looked down at her and smiled. "I would not have her ruin your day." He watched, with something akin to envy and longing, as a pale blush overtook her. "But I know you well enough to say with confidence, it is not Miss Bingley's presence that concerns you."

"Truly, Fitzwilliam. I would never begrudge you a friend. It is only my sister and Mr. Bingley parted on ill terms. I do not wish either of them to be uncomfortable."

Darcy nodded, and once again turned contemplative. "I do not know what has come over him, lately. He has not been himself. I can only hope his time in the country has restored his spirits."

"Have you heard from him since his departure?"

"No." After a few more minutes of silent consideration, he squeezed her hand. "Let us not think on him any further. I am certain he is well, and will write when he is able. Or we shall see him at the wedding." With a smirk, he added, "Have I met your requirements for conversation?"

Elizabeth laughed, at once being fully at ease again. "Quite admirably, sir."

The two walked on, speaking of less important topics. Elizabeth expressed an interest in seeing the Lakes and peaks, and Darcy suggested a trip after the wedding, if time permitted.

A few days before the wedding, Elizabeth was situated comfortably in her father's study. It was early yet, and the rest of the house had yet to wake. Due to the drizzling rain, a walk had not been an option. A book in her lap, she lazily twirled a strand of hair around her finger.

"Good morning, Lizzy," Mr. Bennet said. "I see the dreary weather has finally managed to keep you indoors."

Elizabeth glanced at the rain-speckled window, and then looked at her father. "Yes. So close to the wedding, I dare not test my constitution. I shudder to think what Mama would say were I to catch a chill."

Mr. Bennet rolled his eyes. "I thank you for your consideration. These last months have indeed been a trial." His eyes twinkled. "I should banish you from my study for abandoning me in such a manner. A whole month with nothing but talk of lace!"

With a chuckle, Elizabeth rose and gave her father a kiss on the cheek. "Forgive me, Papa, it was most unkind of me. Perhaps you shall forgive me when I tell you Fitzwilliam has extended an open invitation to Pemberley for whenever you wish."

Mr. Bennet chuckled. "It is the least he can do for taking you so far away!" He paused, and a doleful look came over him. "Shall you be happy married to such a man, Lizzy?"

A deep blush overtook her. "He is the best of men, Papa. I shall be quite content."

"If you are certain, then I shall say no more." A touch of sadness remained around his eyes. Rather than pulling out his usual tome, he set up the chess board. "I suspect your mother will demand your attention the remainder of the week, but since she is still abed, can I interest you in a game?"

Elizabeth gladly assented and the two played in relative silence.

"I do not suppose Jane has expressed an interest in such an activity," Mr. Bennet questioned midway through the game.

"No," Elizabeth laughed. "Such a hobby might ruin her perfectly angelic reputation." More seriously she said, "But Mary may be amenable. It would give her an occupation other than reading Fordyce." She gauged her father's reaction to her suggestion, and then dropped her eyes back to the board.

Silence once again reigned.

"Perhaps you are right," Mr. Bennet murmured. Elizabeth smiled slightly, but maintained her focus on the game.

They were near the end of the game when the noise of the rest of the family filtered into the sanctuary. "Well, my Lizzy. I do believe our peaceful morning has come to an end." Uncharacteristically, he rose and pulled her into an embrace. "Now off with you, and remember, you and your young man have wrought this on yourselves. I can not be expected to save you."

Elizabeth chuckled, kissed her father's cheek, and then scurried to greet her mother.

The day before the wedding, the Bingleys arrived at the Great House at Stoke. As Elizabeth was busy planning her final departure from Longbourn, Darcy waited outside alone to greet his friend. "Bingley!" he exclaimed warmly, "It is good to see you. How did you find things in the north?"

"I shall tell you about it all inside." Bingley said tiredly.

Expecting no one else, Darcy turned toward the house, and was surprised when Bingley returned to the carriage. His stomach plummeted when he saw his friend handing someone out of the carriage and a familiar, unwanted voice simpered, "Mr. Darcy! How good of you to welcome us personally."

He must have cast a dark glare at his friend, because Bingley suddenly found the ground terribly interesting. Despite her uninvited presence, Darcy was a gentleman first. "Miss Bingley," he greeted. Without waiting for the others, he turned to lead them inside.

"The Hursts unexpectedly travelled to see family," Bingley muttered on the way

"Of course. I shall speak with the housekeeper about having another room prepared." Inwardly Darcy was seething, though not all his anger was directed as the Bingleys. He should have known better, he told himself. Knowing the Bingley siblings as he did, he should have forgone Mr. Bingley's attendance at the wedding. Miss Bingley was never one to overlook an opportunity to form a connection amongst high society, and the wedding was just the type of setting she craved. She had obviously found a way to attend, despite the lack of invitation.

In silence, the three made their way to one of the guest rooms for Miss Bingley. Mr. Bingley was given a room nearby.

"I am sorry, Darcy." Bingley said, just before opening the door to his room. "I had little choice. I could not leave her in London alone."

Unwilling to hide his displeasure, Darcy glared heatedly at his friend. "Bingley, for your sake, I have tolerated your sister's fawning and attentions to me these many years. I warn you. Should she say one word against Miss Elizabeth, the Bennets, or do anything to upset my betrothed, she will never be welcomed into any of my homes again. If that means I see you less, then I will be saddened, but I will not tolerate any disrespect to my wife from my family, and certainly not from your sister."

He felt a little remorse upon seeing Bingley blanch and meekly murmur, "Of course, Darcy."

Attempting to smooth things over, he said in a more gentle tone, "Bingley, forgive my interference in your family business, it is kindly meant, but you need to check your sister, or she will be the laughing stock of the ton. Her behaviour at the Granville ball was nothing short of ridiculous. I am sorry to pain you, but there are already whispers. If you do not learn to control her, she will be the ruin of the both of you."

Bingley only nodded and then closed the door behind him, leaving Darcy once again to wonder at the state of affairs with his friend. Whatever had been bothering Bingley had not been cured by time away from town. Then again, he too would be out of sorts if he had to spend the morning confined to a carriage with Miss Bingley.

Unwilling to give either Bingley much more thought, he headed to his rooms. There were more worthwhile details to attend. Tomorrow he was getting married!

¹ These words are from the English translation of Mozart's Magic Flute.

Chapter Thirty-One

Posted on: 2008-10-09

Darcy sat, for the moment anyway, in one of the high backed chairs in his sitting room. In another one, sat Lord Blakeslee, with Bingley and Lord Fitzwilliam sharing the sofa.

The fact that all of them were even awake was amazing; at least Bingley should still be feeling the effects. After an early dinner at Longbourn, they, along with Lord Matlock, had spent the late hours of the night imbibing copious amounts of brandy and wine; Bingley had drunk the lion's share.

Listening, but not hearing the jests of his friends, he looked at the clock once again. Only five minutes had passed. This was insufferable! How was he going to survive another hour?

Impatience got the better of him, and he stood, walked to the hearth and leaned against the mantle. He tried to calm himself by reliving his conversation last night with Elizabeth.

Mrs. Bennet had insisted on hosting one last hurrah before the wedding. Most of the illustrious guests would leave Hertfordshire the day of or the day after the wedding, and the matron was never one to miss an opportunity to demonstrate her abilities as a hostess -- especially when those who patronized the halls of St. James were amongst those gathered.

Though it almost resembled an Assembly, based on the number of families from the neighbourhood in attendance, Mrs. Bennet insisted it was but a trifling dinner party. Like most gatherings in the area, it was loud and boisterous. Mrs. Bennet's happy trills rose above the crowd as she boasted of her daughter's fortuitous match. When the hostess' attention was drawn elsewhere, the noisy giggles of the younger girls and their demands for dancing drew everyone's attention.

With such a crowd, no one found anything to criticise when the betrothed couple slipped outside for a breath of fresh air and sanity.

"I am sorry, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth sighed. With a half chuckle, she added, "I suppose, had I agreed to an Assembly, this could have been avoided." Her eyes twinkled up at him. "But then you would have been required to dance."

As had become customary when they were out walking, Darcy took her hand, and placed it in the crook of his arm. "Do not concern yourself, Elizabeth." Locking eyes with her, he added, "And I do not mind dancing when I am particularly acquainted with my partner." He looked away before the enchantment of the fading sun took hold.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful garden.

"Elizabeth," he said, after seating them on a stone bench. "I..." he paused, suddenly doubting the wisdom of what he was about to do. Gathering his courage, he began again. "Tomorrow we wed." It came out more like a whisper.

"Yes," she managed before looking away to hide the blush that had begun to bloom.

"Elizabeth." He swallowed, trying to keep his heart in its proper place. "Do you still wish to marry me?" Unsure of what he would do if she said no, his brow creased tightly.

The question hit Elizabeth like a bucket of cold water. Her heart plummeted to the ground and her stomach knotted. Since that first afternoon back at Longbourn, she had wondered when this moment would come. Darcy was patient, but there were limits to what a man should have to bear. Her mother's fawning, gloating, and probing questions had obviously tested him.

Under other circumstances, Elizabeth may have been prone to spitefulness, but in that moment, the pain was too great. "I understand," she choked out. She turned her back towards him. "I release you."

"What?" He reached out, but stopped short, scared of driving her further away. "Release me? Why?" He thought his heart was racing before, but now it was absolutely wild. "I... I ... How... I was not asking to break our engagement." His voice dropped. "I needed assurance that you wished the same."

For several moments, the only sound was that of a gentle breeze and the dull din from the house. Finally, Elizabeth turned towards him again, but her face was a strange mixture of anger and doubt.

"Are you certain, Fitzwilliam? Are you certain you still wish an association to such a family? My mother is loud, and thinks about nothing but seeing her daughters well married, and my sisters have seemingly lost all sense of propriety. Even my father... I see the way you flinch at my mother's comments." She shook her head. "Surely your aunt and uncle must be horrified to learn they might have a connection to such a family."

Tears stung her eyes and she again turned away. She would not let him see her hurt.

Despite every urge to pull her into his arms and assure her those things did not matter, he only laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. "All mothers wish to see their daughters well situated. And your sisters... they are young." Unable to give credence to his words, she remained stiff and distant. "Elizabeth..."

"Forgive me. It seems I still can not stay my tongue." After taking a cleansing breath, she turned to him, but could not meet his eye. She swallowed visibly. "I do not wish you to regret your decision."

"Elizabeth. I could ne --" A shout came from the direction of the house, interrupting him. "Liii-zzyyy!" They both recognized Lydia's voice. "Lizzy! Our Mother is looking for you!"

The moment was lost.

"It appears we have been missed," Darcy said dryly, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. He wanted to both thank and curse Lydia.

"So it does." Elizabeth stood, but before she could move towards the house, Darcy grabbed her hand.

"I shall see you tomorrow at the chapel at ten." The question was in his tone.

"Tomorrow at ten," Elizabeth replied softly.

A loud guffaw behind him drew Darcy's attention back to his sitting room. He checked the clock. Only fifteen minutes had passed. He ran a hand over his face, the miscommunication of last night still haunting him. She had thought he wished to break the engagement, and was going to release him!

He returned to his seat, pointedly ignoring the looks from his friends. He did not care about their baiting and ribald remarks. The only thing he wanted was to be wed, and to travel on to Pemberley with Elizabeth. If only the damnable clock would move faster!

At Longbourn, Mrs. Bennet had risen uncharacteristically early and demanded the rest of the house attend to her. Thus, before the sun had even fully cleared the horizon, the house was in chaos.

Thankfully, years of experience had taught the two eldest Bennet sisters how to cope. After sneaking out for an early morning walk, Elizabeth remained in her room while Jane took it upon herself to look after her.

While Jane dressed, Elizabeth quietly chewed on a muffin. In just a few hours, she would forever more be Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. The very idea sent a surge of unmitigated joy through her.

Last night she feared Darcy had changed his mind. After spending a week with her family, she could not blame him.

Her mother had been in rare form. When she was not commenting on Elizabeth's fine gowns, she was paging through journals, noting the fashionable fabrics and furniture Elizabeth simply must use to decorate the Darcy homes, or inquiring over Darcy's connections that might lead to potential matches for her other daughters.

Kitty and Lydia had not been much better. Their behaviour went unchecked as they made little secret of where their interest lay; asking how soon they could visit Elizabeth in London, and at what times officers were in residence at Whitehall.

She was torn between mortification, shame, and love for her family. She could not choose her family, but Fitzwilliam could. What a relief it had been when he indicated he had not changed his mind!

"Lizzy," Jane called. "Are you well?"

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, of course. Forgive me, I was wool-gathering."

"Only you," Jane teased. "I would be a bundle of nerves, unable to keep a single thought in my head. Are you ready for me to start your hair?"

After stuffing the last bite of muffin in her mouth, Elizabeth took Jane's seat at the vanity.

"Lord Blakeslee will be quite pleased," Elizabeth commented on Jane's finished appearance.

"He is a good man, Lizzy, but we are only friends. He is an earl, and must make a good match."

"If he is so good, he would not let something like that stop him, dear sister." Noting her sister did not blush as she expected, she inquired further. "Jane, is there something you have not told me?"

"Of course not, Lizzy." Jane replied, avoiding her sister's eye. "Now, hold your head still, or I shall call our mother to tend to you."

Not wishing to mar these last moments with her sister, Elizabeth dropped the subject. For the remainder of the time, the two sisters spoke of lighter topics such as the speed of the post between Longbourn and Pemberley, Longbourn's herb and vegetable garden, and Jane's upcoming trip to Hunsford.

Darcy stood at the altar. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then looked to doors of the chapel. At any moment, at least he hoped, they would open and admit his bride. For the time being, however, they remained unmoved.

He looked over those gathered, and saw his sister. She looked so mature. She sat up straight, her head high, and smiled at him. Her eyes were sparkling with excitement and anticipation. If he were not already head over heels in love with Elizabeth, his sister's countenance would be all that was needed to convince him he was doing the right thing. Elizabeth was everything Georgiana had ever wanted or needed in a sister, friend, and role model.

Six months. Just six months ago, his world was a murky grey, clouded in guilt, shame, and anger. Georgiana had sunk into a deep depression, and he had not the slightest idea how to rescue her.

Six months ago, Elizabeth -- Li'l Beth -- was but a fond memory; a reminder of easier, happier times.

Six months ago, he had come to Netherfield, to Hertfordshire, as a temporary escape. Instead, he found his and his sister's salvation.

In the past six months, he had smiled more, laughed more, and felt more alive than he had in all of the last six years. In the past six months, he had fallen so in love with a woman, that just the utterance of her name could send a warm tingle through him.

He looked towards the doors again. Still they did not open. He glanced at Wesley, who returned an amused smirk. He could only imagine what he looked like. Someday it would be Wesley's turn, and he would be just as unmerciful. For now, all he could do was turn away and look back at the doors again.

His heart leapt into his throat when he saw them open!

Rays of sunlight entered the stone chapel. Then, as though she had ridden one the sunbeams, Elizabeth entered.

Darcy forgot how to breathe; all he could do was stare. Elizabeth. There was no other description apt enough to describe her. What had he done to deserve such a vision of loveliness?

The closer Elizabeth and Mr. Bennet came, the faster his heart beat, until it was beating so fast he became light-headed. Indeed, so overcome was he by the lady approaching him, he would later be amazed that he remained upright.

With a shuddering breath, he managed once again to get air into his lungs, and by the time Elizabeth reached the front of the church, he had recollected himself.

The moment he had dreamed of was here. As Mr. Bennet placed Elizabeth's hand in his, he gave it a reaffirming squeeze, and then turned towards the vicar.

"Dearly Beloved: We have come together in the presence of God..." the vicar began. After the admonitions on the purpose and sanctity of marriage, he instructed Darcy to repeat after him. "I, Fitzwilliam George Howard Darcy, take thee..."

"...to have and to hold..." the vicar continued.

Darcy nearly choked on the words, suddenly realizing that even after the ceremony, she was not his to have and to hold -- no matter how much he wanted to do just that. Oh, legally he could demand the rights of a husband, but he did not want their joining to be done out of obligation; and she did not welcome his advances, caresses, or even his kisses.

Those five little words served as a reminder that this was a marriage of convenience, a marriage between friends. That is what they had agreed to. Above everything, he was a gentleman, and would maintain his side of the agreement until she gave him a sign he could do otherwise.

Elizabeth was not faring much better than Darcy. As she entered the church, her eyes immediately flew to him. If there were others present, she was unaware of them. Only he mattered.

Today, she would become his wife. She was uncertain what all that entailed, but she trusted him. He would never hurt her.

Her father placed her hand in Darcy's, and shyly she looked up at him. Feeling his reassuring squeeze of her hand washed away any trace of anxiety. It may not be love, but it was friendship; a deep and abiding friendship. For now, that would have to be enough.

After reciting the words that would bind them together for the remainder of her life, the vicar led them in prayer. To that prayer, Elizabeth amended a silent supplication. It was a simple plea: that one day her love would be returned. That one day, she would be more than just his lawful wife; she would be his wife in body and soul.

Finally, the vicar said, "I now pronounce you man and wife."

The registry was signed, and Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy made their way out of the church.

The wedding breakfast was a lively, crowded affair. Mrs. Bennet had spared no expense in the food or décor. As the weather was warm and the guests plenty, most people found comfort out of doors.

Together, Elizabeth and Darcy made their rounds to each of their guests, receiving congratulations and warm wishes, and thanking them for their attendance.

Elizabeth had never been happier. She had married the man she loved above all others; she was Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. Somehow it did not seem real yet. She kept expecting him to turn into someone else, or disappear all together.

He did not. Indeed, the two were almost inseparable.

Elizabeth could not help but be amused at how well they had perfected their show. They were always connected in some way; she either held his arm, or his hand was at her back, gently guiding her through crowd. Would the charade continue after today? She hoped it would. She enjoyed this closeness, even if it did not hold any deeper meaning.

Lord Blakeslee was one of the first to offer his congratulations, complete with a gallant bow and kiss on the hand. Elizabeth was amused as others followed suit, mimicking the esteemed gentleman.

Bingley, too, offered his congratulations, though Elizabeth could not help but notice the interaction between the two friends was stilted. The possible reason was quick to make her presence known.

As much as they both would have preferred to avoid that particular guest, they could not. They both let out a small sigh when Miss Bingley approached.

Elizabeth steeled herself for the woman's words. The black veil conveyed her sentiments on the marriage perfectly, yet the way she was tracking them, she clearly had more to say. Only the years of friendship between Mr. Bingley and her now husband kept Elizabeth from having the harridan thrown out of the house.

"Mr. Darcy!" Caroline cried, her voice syrupy sweet. Audaciously, she kissed him on the cheek as though they were family. "Mrs. Darcy." She looked as though she might choke on the words.

Elizabeth curtsied. "Miss Bingley. It was very kind of you to travel all the way to Hertfordshire to share in our joy. Indeed, Mr. Darcy and I did not at all expect it."

"It was not an imposition for such a dear friend as Mr. Darcy." Caroline replied with a forced smile. She then went on to tell how much she had been enjoying the refined company of Darcy's aunt and cousins.

When neither could take any more, Elizabeth interrupted her effusions. "Forgive me, Miss Bingley, but there are other guests that require our attention. I thank you again for coming." Hardly even waiting for a response, Darcy led Elizabeth away to join another party, leaving a put out Miss Bingley behind.

Finally, the hour arrived for the newly wedded couple to leave. The gathered crowd followed the pair to their carriage to say their final goodbyes.

Elizabeth gave each of her siblings, as well as Georgiana, a hug goodbye, and made promises of letters. She then took her leave of the Matlocks.

Much to her surprise, Lady Matlock took her hand and squeezed it affectionately. "Congratulations, Mrs. Darcy," she said sincerely. "I believe you and Fitzwilliam shall do very well together. I am honoured to call you niece." After placing a familial kiss on Elizabeth's cheek, she released the bride and stepped back, allowing her to join Darcy.

So stunned at such warmth and acceptance from the great lady, Elizabeth nearly stumbled on her way to the carriage. Was it possible she had misjudged her? Her thoughts were interrupted by Darcy taking her hand to assist her into the carriage.

As Darcy climbed in, he glanced at the seat across from Elizabeth, pondering where to sit. Realizing their family and friends could see him, he had no choice; he had to sit next to Elizabeth. He cast an uncertain look, but upon receiving a small nod, indicating she understood, he sat. He was careful to sit close enough not to raise suspicion by the onlookers, but put enough space between them not to impose.

After a final wave goodbye, the carriage jerked away, as a cheer lifted and slippers showered its wake.

They were outside of Meryton before either Darcy or Elizabeth said a word.

"Do you intend to ride in silence, or are we to have conversation, Mrs. Darcy?" He emphasized her name.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Whatever you prefer, dear husband," she replied archly.

If either of them had any idea the effect of such banter had on the other, they may have thought twice before continuing in that vein. Being blind to the other's feelings, and not wishing to be at a disadvantage, they carried on.

"So now I am dear?" He could not help grinning as Elizabeth blushed. It took her but a moment to overcome it though.

"Of course," she said as a matter of fact. "It has been my experience that either a person is dear or he is not. I have heard Georgiana call you ‘dear brother' many times. Therefore you are dear. As you are also now my husband, you are, by extension, my dear husband."

Darcy could not but be amused at her logic. With a merry chuckle, he replied, "Then that would make you my dear wife." When Elizabeth shook her head in disagreement, he iterated with mock gravity, "I have on more than one occasion, heard Jane call you ‘dear sister'. By your own logic madam, you are my dear wife."

"Ah, but you forget, dear husband, that it is impossible for Jane to find fault with anyone, and considers everyone dear. Since we know that not to be the case, it must follow that her opinion on whether one is dear or not can not be trusted.

Darcy said nothing more. The only movement his lips had any inclination to make was to capture hers. As that was not an option, he simply sat back, willing the blood in his veins to cool.

He had sorely underestimated the effect being alone in a carriage with her would have on his equanimity. Worse, he could not even fall back to his previous mantra of Li'l Beth; that had ceased working quite some time ago. Somewhere along the way, Li'l Beth and Elizabeth had become the same, beautiful, alluring temptation, sent to torment him. How he was to survive the three day trip to Pemberley was beyond him.

Taking his silence as a sign of defeat, Elizabeth sat looking out the window with a smug expression. Every once in a while, she would glance at him, expecting him to direct the conversation.

Deciding it was unwise to enter into any manner of debate, Darcy spent much of the remainder of the journey to London outlining - in great detail - his plans for their journey to Pemberley. Each stop was discussed, along with their meals, the accommodations for the evening, as well as alternative plans in case of inclement weather.

If Elizabeth thought it odd that he would discuss the arrangements with such vigour, she did not let on. She asked a few curious questions, but otherwise simply nodded.

When the sounds of the city could be heard, Darcy leaned over and closed the curtains.

"Ashamed of your bride already?" Elizabeth teased.

Darcy caught her hand and placed a tender kiss upon it. "Never," he said lowly, sending shivers up Elizabeth's spine. Louder, and affecting a teasing tone, he said, "Perhaps I simply do not wish others to see my beautiful, blushing bride."

Instantly making his statement true, Elizabeth turned a deep shade of red. "Fitzwilliam," she admonished.

Darcy laughed. "I only do not want to subject either of us to the stares of the town folk. A wedding carriage - especially a crested one - can be spotted from miles away."

"Surely it is not as bad as that."

"You shall see for yourself when the Season begins."

"Very well," Elizabeth replied having no alternative but to concede. "Certainly we shall not ride all the way to Pemberley with the curtains drawn."

"I do not think you would keep them closed, even if I wished it."

Elizabeth eyed him with mock wariness. "You know me too well, sir. Then again, I have taken a vow to obey you, just this morning."

Darcy thought of many commands he could issue, but gave voice to none of them. If she only knew the fire with which she was playing.

The Darcy carriage easily made its way to Arryndale, where the newly married couple was greeted with great enthusiasm by the house staff. Already well acquainted with their new mistress, they knew there was no cause for concern. So, after serving Elizabeth and Darcy a hearty dinner, they were all dismissed for their own festivities.

The two passed away the evening in the library, each in their own seat, with their own book. As night grew near, Elizabeth's anxiety rose. She was uncertain what to expect. Would Darcy insist on consummating the marriage immediately? When they had become engaged, he had said it could be postponed. Yet, that had been several months ago. He may have changed his mind.

She both hoped and feared he had. Her information about the wedding night had been conflicting. Aunt Gardiner and her mother had both said it could be painful, yet both had also said at times it could also be enjoyable. But they had not said how to make it enjoyable, or how to minimize the pain. Her mother had told her to lie still and not say anything, but she could not fathom how she was to enjoy herself if she could not move or speak.

After spending an hour or so pretending to peruse her book, she forced herself to yawn. Closing her book, she said, "I think I shall retire, Fitzwilliam." She could not look at him. "My mother had the whole house up early this morning."

Darcy stood, and placed his book on the table next to his chair. Gallantly, he offered her his hand. "May I escort you?"

Elizabeth swallowed and nodded. Without a word, she took her husband's arm as he led her to their apartments.

The silence between them as they walked was almost deafening. They stopped in front of the mistress' door, facing each other, but neither of them said word. After several moments of studying each other's footwear, Darcy finally leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Good night, Elizabeth. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call for me... or one of the servants."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth murmured before scurrying into her room, alone.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Posted on: 2008-10-15

The following morning Elizabeth sat at the vanity in her dressing room watching Penny finish pinning up her hair. As she and Darcy would be leaving for Pemberley just after breaking their fast, Elizabeth had insisted on a simple hair style.

When Penny pronounced her hair complete, Elizabeth carefully placed the white cap she had been fondling over the chignon, while letting her curls peek out from underneath. Her stomach tumbled with excitement. She turned her head first to the right, and then to the left, examining the effect. The white cap was more than a pretty piece of lace. It was a symbol, a statement. She was no longer Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn; she was a married woman, Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. Now, all the world would know.

In the mirror, she could see Penny look on with satisfaction. Though they had only known each other a few weeks, they had developed a good rapport. Penny's cherub-like face, hid both age and an intelligence that was appreciated.

"Shall you miss London?" Elizabeth asked, while gathering her shawl about her arms. During her initial interview, Elizabeth had learned Penny had spent most of her days in the city.

"Perhaps a little, Madame, but I am told Pemberley is a lovely place."

"It is." Elizabeth said absently, unable to keep from adjusting her cap one last time. Then, after giving Penny some final instructions for her trunks, she prepared to meet her husband for the morning meal.

She stalled a moment at the door, wondering what her first day of marriage would bring. Would Fitzwilliam still be pleased by their marriage, or would he begin to question his actions when faced with the reality of the situation? She placed her hand on the door knob, took a deep breath, and hoped for the best.

The moment Elizabeth's door opened, Darcy snapped to attention. With an almost imperceptible shake of the head, he stood and greeted his wife. "Good morning, Elizabeth. I trust you slept well." He offered her his arm. Noticing the white cap, his mouth twitched upwards.

"I am well. You did not need to wait for me."

"What would the servants think if I left my new bride to find her own way to break her fast?"

Elizabeth's tinkling laugh echoed through the halls, instantly sending Darcy's pulse racing. It was going to be a long day, and he was not in full control of his faculties.

Last night had been difficult. She was sleeping in the next room, and he had a door that led directly to her. He had spent most of the night staring at that wooden barrier, torturing himself. What she looked like with her hair down? Did she or her maid brush her hair out? Was it as soft as it appeared? What she looked like sleeping? Did she sleep with a night cap, or just a simple plait? Did she sleep on one of the bed as he did? Or did she prefer the middle?

If that were not enough, when he was finally touched by Hypnos, he had the disappointment of waking alone after a particularly sensuous dream.

Now he faced the greatest temptation of all; the living, breathing, laughing, smiling teasing siren, herself.

He needed coffee, and lots of it.

With only Elizabeth and Darcy about, breakfast was a casual affair. Darcy read the day's paper aloud, and the two discussed the various articles.

When he came to the announcements, he set the paper in front of Elizabeth with a grin, pointing to the particular column. There it was in black and white. Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn had married Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley. By noon, all of London would know of it.

"It appears, sir, you are quite stuck with me," Elizabeth teased, uncertain of what else to say.

"And you with me."

"But I have it on good authority that there is none your equal in calmness of manner and presence of mind. So I can have no cause to repine."

Recognizing her reference to a conversation had long ago with Miss Bingley, Darcy replied, "I am sorry, Elizabeth. Bingley..." He sighed heavily. "It was my fault. I should not have invited Bingley."

"I had not thought her capable of such..." she searched for a suitable but genteel word. Not finding one, she simply scowled.

"The audacity!" Darcy growled. "She shall never be welcomed into any of my homes again!" His chest heaved in anger.

"Fitzwilliam, that will be impossible if you are to remain friends with Mr. Bingley. Miss Bingley will resign herself to our marriage soon enough. I am only glad Mr. Bingley's presence did not upset Jane overly much." Silence descended between the two before Elizabeth changed the subject. "Are you certain Lord Blakeslee has no intentions towards Jane?" At Darcy's raised brow, she mentioned how frequently she had seen Jane and Lord Blakeslee together at the wedding breakfast.

"I am certain," Darcy said. Seeing Elizabeth required an explanation, he added, "I spoke with Wesley the other night, and he assured me he has no intentions towards your sister, and she has no expectations of his addresses."

"How does he know what Jane expects?" Her voice steadily rose in pitch. "Did he ask her? Or did he simply assume? Men can..." She bit her tongue before she said something spiteful.

Darcy rolled his eyes. It was supposed to be their honeymoon. The last he wanted to discuss was someone else's marriage prospects, especially when it upset his wife. "Elizabeth, can we please not discuss this now? Wesley did not give me any details. I was content to know your sister would not be injured." With a pointed look he added, "We agreed not to interfere."

It took a minute for Elizabeth to calm, but when she did, she apologized.

Not long after, a footman entered, announcing the carriage was ready for their departure. Elizabeth spent a few more minutes with the house staff reiterating the plans for their return to London, while Darcy gathered a few last minute papers from his study.

Before most of London had finished their morning meal, the Darcy carriage was rolling out of London, headed for the peaks of the north.

The first day of their journey passed with relative calm. There was a light rain that seemingly followed them from London, but as they had planned leisurely travel, it was no cause for concern.

The gloomy weather, in concert with the usual boredom that came with travel, and his restless night, however, made it difficult for Darcy to remain awake. Elizabeth seemed perfectly content to read, so Darcy made himself comfortable and was soon fast asleep.

Essentially alone, Elizabeth removed her bonnet and gloves. She had never enjoyed the restriction of bonnets, and it was a bit warm for her travel gloves. For a while she contented herself with a book but soon found a more pleasant subject in the form of her slumbering husband.

Unabashedly, she watched him, admiring the deep ridge of his brow, strong jaw line, and broad chest that rose and fell with each breath. In his sleep, his brow and mouth relaxed, giving him an almost boyish appearance.

She could not help watching his lips twitch, and her thoughts easily turned to wondering what it would feel like to be kissed by them. Feeling a flush taking over, she returned her attention to her book.

Darcy woke some time later to the sound of muffled giggles. After taking a moment to gauge his surroundings, he bolted upright. Next to him sat Elizabeth, with her nose literally buried in her book.

"A fine travel companion I have turned out to be," he said dryly.

"On the contrary, sir! I was well entertained." At Darcy's wide eyes, she had to touch her lips with her hand, to keep her laughter at bay.

"What did I do?" He was uncertain if he wanted to know the answer.

"Did you have a pleasant dream?" She looked away, her hand clamped tightly over her lips, as another burst of laughter threatened.

"I... I... do not recall. Was I... talking in my sleep? What did I say?" He honestly did not recall any dreams, but feared the worst.

"I could not make most of it out. I heard what I believe was Li'l Beth and Pemberley." Unable to contain her mirth any longer, she laughed out loud at Darcy's stricken look. "What ever it was, it must have been very exhausting, for there were other murmurs and noises that I could not decipher."

Darcy blanched. He had a very good idea of what his dream entailed, even if Elizabeth did not. At least his tongue had not completely betrayed him, even if it seemed the rest of his body was determined to do so. "I do not remember my dream," he said with credible remorse. Then, desperate for a change of subject, he looked out the window. "How long before we stop?"

After throwing a decided pout, Elizabeth shrugged. "Perhaps another twenty minutes."

Darcy nodded and adjusted his clothing.

The rest of the day passed with relative ease. Darcy was determined not repeat his mistake and found all manner of ways to pass the time; from conversation, to reading, to watching the passing country side. He even allowed Elizabeth to teach him how to sort and wind embroidery silks to keep them from being tangled. His fingers were not nearly as adept as her, but it seemed to amuse her to watch him, and it kept his mind off other, fantastical thoughts.

They ended the day's journey at a large, but well-equipped, inn. After a satisfying meal, they retired to separate rooms.

The second day proved very similar to the first. Their destination at the end of the day would be the Lion and Rose Inn in Northamptonshire. They could have made a late arrival at Pemberley that day, with efficient stops, but they both agreed it would be more prudent, for both themselves and the horses, to hold to a more sedate pace.

When they set out that morning, there was plenty of conversation to be had. However, as the monotony of the ride carried on, their lively discourse ended. Neither had slept particularly well the previous night, their thoughts more occupied with the course of their marriage as friends. Not only that, but the exhaustion from the flurry of activities of the previous week caught up with the both of them. Stuck within the confines of a carriage, it was no surprise that both Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves nodding off.

After yesterday's mortification however, Darcy was determined not to sleep until Elizabeth did. He glanced over at her figure leaning heavily against the side of the carriage. Every few minutes she would shift, trying to find a comfortable position. Her head rolled back and forth in rhythm with the rocking of the carriage. He wished he would have had the foresight to stow a pillow or two for her. Better yet, he could cradle her head against his shoulder, if only they had a different understanding.

A rut in the road jostled the carriage, causing Elizabeth to bump her head and Darcy to cringe. He looked around the space for a makeshift pillow, but found nothing. There were a few rugs, but those were stowed away under the seat; he would have to wake her to get to them.

With nothing else to do, he settled into the opposite corner of the carriage for a short nap.

Just as he was nodding off, there was another bump in the road, this time a larger one. Darcy winced as his head bounced off the carriage wall. This was unacceptable. If things continued, they would both arrive at their destination with a tremendous headache, if not something worse.

He sat up and looked over at Elizabeth. She was moving about, trying to find a comfortable position, but appeared to be still sleeping.

The third bump put an end to his patience. "Elizabeth," he said softly. When she did not respond, he took her arm and pulled her towards him. Let her be angry with him, he reasoned, at least she would be unharmed.

The feel of his hand around her arm, caught her attention. "Fitzwilliam?" she asked sleepily.

"Rest your head against my shoulder, Elizabeth, and go back to sleep. I can not watch your head bounce off the carriage wall again." She hesitated for a minute and then obliged.

At first, she maintained a rigid pose, her head making only cursory contact arm. She had never been so familiar with any man. She breathed in deeply, smelling that musky scent that was his and a warm flush flowed through her. She wanted nothing more than to nuzzle deeper into him and have him put his arms around her, but she could never be so bold.

She tried to relax against him, but found it difficult. All of her senses were now stirred. Not only that but she was uncertain where to put her hands. She wanted to wrap her arms around him, but could not; that was the privilege of a lover. Uncertain of what else to do with them, she did her best to fold her hands together in her lap.

Darcy felt her shift and struggle to get comfortable again, all while keeping his eyes glued to her hands. When she appeared to be once again asleep, he gave in to his desires and took one of them in his, letting the other remain limp against her body. They had both long ago discarded their gloves, and the feel of her skin against his was almost his undoing.

Her hands were so soft, so smooth, and so small in his. His eyes roved from her hand, up her arm, until resting on her lips. If her hands were this soft, he could only imagine what her lips felt like.

His lips twitched, but before he gave further into temptation, he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.

Sometime later, feeling a disruption in the usual motion of the carriage, Darcy woke. A bit disoriented, he was confused at the weight on his chest. He looked down and what he saw caused his breath to hitch. Somehow, through the course of travel, Elizabeth had come to lie fully against him; her entire body was pressed against his. Her hands were folded together, tucked under her chin, as if she was praying, and she was gently sucking on her bottom lip.

He closed his eyes again, fighting the moan in his chest that begged to be released. If they could remain like this for all eternity, he would be content. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and hold her, but was too scared she would awaken. Instead, he did nothing, simply savouring the feeling of her body against his. It was heaven.

Seeing the signs of a town nearing, he knew they were near the next stop. He needed to wake her. Should Elizabeth discover their position, she would no doubt be mortified. Yet he still could not rouse her. His body was on fire, every inch of him wanting all of her.

Unable to resist, he placed the softest of kisses in her hair and then forced himself to think of other things. One more minute, he told himself, just another minute, then he would wake her. Unfortunately, each time he looked down at her, his passion would be aroused once again and he would have to start over.

It therefore took several minutes, and every ounce of self control, before he could call himself a gentleman. With that monumental task completed, he worked to wake Elizabeth.

Gently, he shifted to a more upright position. As she began to stir he said, "Elizabeth. We will be stopping soon." Unfortunately, she did not respond as he expected. Instead of waking, she nestled deeper into him, murmuring, and a small smile peaked out.

Darcy threw his head back against the seat, suppressed the groan in his throat. Why did she have to be so damn tempting? Before he found himself once again in an unfit state, he said louder. "Elizabeth, wake up."

She shifted again, but this time, her arms went around his waist, hugging him tightly. "Mmmm..." she murmured. Again, she nuzzled deeper into him. "Little longer."

His head was spinning, and his breathing was became laboured. It was everything he wanted; Elizabeth clinging to him, wanting to be held by him a little longer. Is it possible? Do I dare to dream? Will she remember this when she wakes?

He felt the carriage come to a stop, and began to panic. In just another moment, the doors would open and they would be in plain view of others. He needed to remedy the situation! He could not allow her to be embarrassed.

As the carriage door was not in his line of sight, he heard, more than saw the door open. "Close it!" he hissed. Immediately, the door closed again.

For better or for worse, his command woke Elizabeth. She bolted upright and looked around a little bewildered.

Without thinking, Darcy said, "Forgive me, my sweet. I did not mean to startle you." When Elizabeth said nothing, he added, "We have stopped. I thought you would like a moment to straighten up."

"Oh." She uttered. She had not missed the endearment he used. Unsure of what it meant though, she feigned ignorance and grabbed her bonnet. Then, after putting a few curls back into pins, and adjusting her white cap, she donned it. She took her gloves from Darcy and after putting them on, turned towards him. "Do I look all right?"

Darcy smiled. You are lovely, he wanted to say. "You look fine."

They exited the carriage, and after some lemonade, took stroll to stretch their legs. Though conversation was rarely lacking between them, this walk was done in silence; each of them lost in their own thoughts.

Darcy was committing to memory those few moments of bliss. The feel of her skin, the rhythm of her respiration, the way she looked while she slept, and the weight of her body pressing against him. He would definitely be reliving those moments later tonight.

Elizabeth's thoughts were turned in another direction, mainly confusion. Darcy had not seemed disturbed by their position in the carriage, as she had expected him to be, and then he had called her "my sweet". Was it possible he felt some affection for her? If so, why had he not said anything? Or perhaps the endearment was a slip -- after all, he had often called Georgiana that -- and he simply had not said anything about his performance as her pillow, not wishing to embarrass her. Satisfied with that explanation, she interrupted the silence. "Shall the warm weather harm the crops?"

Darcy startled, but then shook his head. "No, not if we get enough rain." He looked up at the sky; it was blue without a cloud in sight.

They continued their walk a bit longer in silence, until it was time to return the carriage.

The final day of their journey, Elizabeth could hardly sit still. If all went well, they would have the mid-day meal at Pemberley.

Darcy smiled at her child-like anticipation. "Sit still Elizabeth or you shall rock the carriage right off the road."

"I am not fidgeting."

He looked down towards her feet that were incessantly tapping on the floor of the carriage and rolled his eyes. "Is there anything in particular you should like to do this afternoon?"

Though many things came to mind, she simply smiled. "Will you not be required to meet with your steward?"

Disappointed at her eagerness to be rid of his company, Darcy nodded. "I do, but it can wait until tomorrow."

Elizabeth brightened. "The clouds are white. I would love to go for a stroll by the stream. The path and bridge are still present?"

Darcy nodded pleased. "They are. Very well, after lunch, we shall reacquaint you with the grounds. A good long walk will be refreshing after so much time in the carriage."

As they neared Lambton, Darcy pointed it out to Elizabeth, increasing her excitement that continued to bubble to the surface. Though she did her best to maintain a serene air, she could not keep her head from turning to and fro, taking in the familiar town.

A few minutes later, the carriage came to rest. Darcy leaned over and pointed out the window to the stone house. "Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy," he whispered.

Elizabeth's heart skipped a beat as his breath tickled her neck and ear. "Pemberley" she said, almost reverently.

A moment later, the carriage was rolling down the hill towards the house.

As they approached, a line of uniformed servants could be seen. Near the head of the line stood the butler, Mr. Andrews, and an older lady, Elizabeth knew to be Mrs. Reynolds.

Darcy handed down his wife and together they greeted the butler and housekeeper. Then, taking Elizabeth by the hand, he led her to the middle of the line. "May I present, Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy."

They all cheered.

Mrs. Reynolds chatted with the couple as she accompanied them to their suites.

Before entering, Elizabeth threw her arms around Mrs. Reynolds. "It is very good to see you again."

Mrs. Reynolds smiled brightly. "Welcome home, Mrs. Darcy." Though her words were formal, the unshed tears that glistened in her eyes were unmistakable.

After a bath and filling their stomachs, Darcy led Elizabeth around the walking paths of Pemberley. He led her towards the large pond that he often visited. It was a rather idyllic location; far enough away from the house to escape the noise and commotion if there were visitors, but close enough to be found if needed.

Elizabeth and he had spent a great deal of time there when they were younger. It was where they had learned to skip stones, caught frogs, and dared each other to get increasingly closer to the water without muddying their shoes.

As they walked around, Elizabeth spied a small wooden raft. "That is not the same raft, is it?" she exclaimed in amusement and surprise.

Darcy laughed aloud. "You mean the one you stranded me on?"

"I have no idea what you refer to." The way she avoided looking at him told him it was not the truth. When he paused in his step and looked at her admonishingly, she retorted, "You were not stranded, I know very well you can swim."

"I was in my waistcoat and trousers!"

"You should not have muddied my favourite bonnet by hiding a frog in it." She raised her chin, feeling fully justified.

"How can you have a favourite? You do not like wearing bonnets." He pointed to the bonnet in her hand, proving his point.

"It was the bonnet I disliked wearing least, therefore it was my favourite."

"It was still no reason to set the raft adrift." His tone was almost petulant.

The proud master of his estate pouting over a pair of trousers ruined years ago was enough to make Elizabeth laugh. When Darcy joined in her amusement, she finally apologized.

After making their way around the pond, they returned to the house where they separated.

Darcy met with his steward, while Elizabeth met with Mrs. Reynolds. They did not see each other again until dinner. The remainder of the evening passed in easy companionship as they discussed changes to the great house since her last visit.

Finally, Elizabeth declared herself exhausted. As he had done every other night, Darcy walked Elizabeth to her room and kissed her on the cheek. "It is good to have you here again, Elizabeth," he said lowly. He opened his mouth as if to say more, but then closed it. Their eyes locked and at that moment, nothing else existed.

By its own volition, his hand moved to brush Elizabeth's cheek, but he caught it in time and instead tugged awkwardly at the sleeve of his tailcoat. "Good night," he whispered. Then he took a half step back.

Elizabeth simply nodded, and after gathering her wits, entered her room. Alone in her room, she placed her hand against the door and with sigh of longing. "Good night, my love."