Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Chapter Four

Posted on 2009-10-12

Mr. Collins wasted little time in his quest to declare himself to Elizabeth. Twice she attempted to stop him; twice he brushed aside her hints. But when he launched into an excruciatingly detailed description of their future life together, Elizabeth was compelled to take matters firmly into her own hands.

"Mr. Collins, you presume too much. Let me answer you now. I am well aware of the honour of your proposal, and I thank you on behalf of all my family for seeking a bride from among us, but I cannot accept your hand in marriage."

"I am by no means discouraged. I know some young ladies refuse the man they secretly mean to accept. I shall take your refusal as an indication that you wish to increase my love for you."

"Sir, I am perfectly honest in my refusal. I cannot marry you sir. It is in every way impossible."

"My love for you will overcome the impossible."

"I beg you to excuse me." Elizabeth fled the interview as quickly as she could. She suspected that sometime in the future she would look back on Mr. Collins' love making with a great deal of amusement. For now, all she wanted was fresh air – preferably fresh air as far removed as possible from her cousin.

Mrs. Bennet was waiting outside the door to offer her congratulations to the newly engaged couple. But when Mr. Collins related Elizabeth's words and his desire to overcome her hesitation, Mrs. Bennet grew concerned; she understood Elizabeth well enough to know that her daughter had no intention whatsoever of changing her mind. She immediately petitioned her husband to speak to his "headstrong" daughter.

"Let me first speak to Mr. Collins. Perhaps I can offer a remedy to your distress."

"Yes, yes. Tell him you will make Lizzy accept him without delay." She left before troubling to hear a response from her husband.

The mistress of Longbourn acted with great efficiency, and within moments, she had herded the heir into the library. For his part, Mr. Bennet realised that some considerable tact – if not outright equivocation – would be required to simultaneously keep his word to Darcy and Elizabeth and appease his wife and his cousin. He looked forward to the challenge with the keenest enjoyment, maintaining at the same time the most resolute composure of countenance.

"Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Collins, please be seated while we address the situation. I am not in the habit of interfering in the private matters of other men. Nevertheless, because one of my daughters is involved, I hope you will indulge me." Mr. Collins nodded his consent. "Very well. Mrs. Bennet has informed me that you have asked for the hand of my daughter, Elizabeth, and she has refused you. Is this correct?"

"It is, sir. I cannot believe she is serious. The establishment I offer is highly desirable, and I assured her in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. My hand is not unworthy, and it is by no means assured that she will ever receive another offer."

"You are correct sir, she never will. But not for the reason you believe. Elizabeth cannot accept your proposal because another has come before you."

"What! I know of no such thing!" Mrs. Bennet cried.

"Of course not, my dear. Only I have been privy to this prior claim. So you see, Cousin, Elizabeth is by honour already bound to another. She could not possibly accept you, even if she wished it."

"I see. Please allow me to apologise for placing you and Miss Elizabeth in such an awkward situation. I do beg your pardon, sir. I had no idea of any encumbrances with any of your daughters other than Miss Bennet." Mr. Collins sputtered, drew air and appeared ready to launch himself into an extended speech of contrition.

Mr. Bennet swiftly interceded. "No apology is needed, sir."

"Who is the man?" Mrs. Bennet could not believe that her second daughter had already reached some sort of understanding with anyone – much less that she, her own mother, was ignorant of the particulars.

"Ah, the material point. Elizabeth's suitor wishes to remain unnamed for the moment, and I have agreed to keep the secret. He will return within a fortnight to announce his intentions. Until then, his identity will remain a mystery."

With one more duty to perform, Mr. Bennet turned his full attention to the young clergyman. "Mr. Collins, I know my daughter has the ability to make men fall in love with her in a short amount of time, and any tender regard for her must be fragile. It would be impossible for your heart to recover quickly enough to form a lasting attachment before you leave. Therefore, if you still wish to seek a wife from among my available daughters, you are welcome to come to Longbourn again. I can assure you that at the moment, no other man has come to speak with me about my other four daughters."

"You forget Mr. Bingley and Jane, Husband. I am sure he is much in love with her, and I suspect you may be speaking with him soon."

"We cannot discount Mr. Bingley," Mr. Bennet said in all seriousness. "Well then, you are free to admire my three youngest daughters."

"You are a gracious host, sir. I shall endeavour to spend the remaining time getting to know my three youngest cousins. If you will excuse me."

"Mr. Collins, before you leave, I must solicit your promise of secrecy about what has passed between us. Nothing but the present circumstance would have caused me to take you into my confidence about Elizabeth's suitor."

"Yes, of course. It is best left unsaid. After all, who can keep a secret better than a clergyman? Now if you will excuse me."

Although nearly overwhelmed by curiosity, Mrs. Bennet stood to follow him out of the room. She was most gratified when Mr. Bennet stopped her, and had the good grace to wait until Mr. Collins left the room before launching into her inquisition.

"Lizzy has a suitor! Why has no one told me? You take delight in vexing me! Who is it? Who is Lizzy's suitor?"

"Mrs. Bennet, calm yourself. I have no intention of revealing his identity at this time. I gave my word and I will not be moved. You must wait until the proper time, like everyone else."

Mrs. Bennet was not pleased. She wheedled and pleaded, threatened and cajoled. Mr. Bennet remained resolute.

"Oh! Very well. If you insist on being cruel, I have no choice but to wait – though I do not see why you cannot tell me who it is." Mrs. Bennet turned to leave.

"Another word, my dear."

She turned to him in agitation.

"What I said to Mr. Collins applies to you, as well. You are not to say anything to anyone until I give you leave."

"I was only going to share my good fortune with my sister."

"If you cannot give me your solemn vow to keep this to yourself, I will forbid you to leave the house until it is time to make the matter public."

"Very well, if you insist. I will tell no one."

"And you will not accost Lizzy for information. Is this clear?"

Mrs. Bennet huffed, "Perfectly. I will go and speak to Cook. When did you say her suitor would arrive?"

"I expect he will be revealed within the fortnight."

"This will never do. How am I to know when he will be dining with us?"

"Mrs. Bennet, I doubt anyone will ever be disappointed at your table. Do not fret. He will be more interested in Elizabeth than in his plate."

"That is all you know. Hill! Hill, I need to speak to you ..."

Mr. Bennet shut his door to drown out the exclamations of his wife. He glanced at his pocket watch and found there was still time to warn off Darcy. Without delay, he penned a note to his future son-in-law.

Mr. Darcy, do not come to Longbourn today. There have been some developments this morning that necessitate your continued absence. I can wait a few more days to see the papers. I will write with more explanation later. Rest assured, you are always welcome at Longbourn. I do this only to protect you and Elizabeth until such time as the point becomes moot.

Yours, etc.

G. Bennet

Satisfied with the contents, Mr. Bennet sealed the note and then placed it inside another sheet of paper, which he addressed to: Mr. C. Bingley. He called for a servant and instructed that the man deliver the missive directly into Mr. Bingley's hand.

That accomplished, he poured himself a glass of port and speculated how long it would be before Mr. Bingley came to him for Jane. A little later, Mr. Bennet once again took quill in hand to compose an explanation of the morning's events for Darcy. He was in no rush and took his time crafting a letter he suspected that Darcy would find quite amusing reading on his journey to Town on the morrow.

The Bennets' servant delivered the note to the master of Netherfield, who broke the seal and promptly handed the interior page to Darcy.

"What is it?" Bingley asked his puzzled friend.

"Here, you read it, and see if you can make it out."

Bingley took the proffered paper and rapidly read the contents. "I wonder what has happened. He only asked you to not come today. He knows that you plan to return on Saturday. Perhaps this has something to do with his guest."

"Collins is to leave that day, it is true. I suppose I should prepare for my journey. I see no reason why you cannot call on the Bennets. I know you wish it."

"Am I that transparent?"

"Utterly. Go. Perhaps you will unravel the mystery. That is, if you can take your eyes off Miss Bennet long enough to do so."

"You approve of her?"

"Considering that I am marrying her sister, I would be a hypocrite if I did not. Miss Bennet is a lovely woman. She reminds me of my own sister."

Bingley put his hand on Darcy's shoulder. "Higher praise you could not bestow."

Bingley did call on Longbourn, but came back with no further intelligence other than that the lady of the house seemed unusually subdued. Darcy decided to wait for an explanation directly from Mr. Bennet and set about preparing for the journey to Kent. First he would stop in Town to call on one other aunt. Many of his plans for Elizabeth depended on the good sense of this relative.

This time when Darcy arrived in London, the staff was expecting him. Warm fires were laid in his rooms, and his cook had prepared a hot meal. Darcy took the time to eat and refresh himself before sending a note to Lady Victoria asking if he could see her that evening.

Lady Victoria Arnold was the eldest of Darcy's mother's siblings. She had greatly disappointed her father, the Earl, by marrying a man of great fortune but no title. Such an action could be forgiven of the younger two sisters, had they made such a choice, but their spouses were both descended from ancient families. Reginald Arnold had the misfortune of being only two generations removed from trade. His father had purchased an immense estate, but the stigma of new money was yet connected to him.

Victoria Fitzwilliam cared not a whit. The Earl had refused his consent when Arnold first came to him. Lady Victoria was incensed! Unless her father changed his mind, she vowed to refuse all suitors. He did not, and she did. Every effort to win the lady's favour was soundly rebuffed until the woman in question turned one and twenty. On the night she came of age, she told her father that unless he agreed to allow her to marry the man of her choice, she would have no option but to elope. The Earl finally understood that his grand schemes for his eldest daughter were at an end. He conceded defeat and a few weeks later, the lovers were finally united in matrimony.

That is not to say that her family welcomed her new husband with open arms. Tolerated was a more appropriate description. Victoria never forgave her brother or her sister Catherine for their disparaging attitude toward her new family. In fact, an estrangement took place, and only Darcy's mother maintained cordial relations with the Arnolds. Lady Anne, the youngest child, abhorred the dissention, and her own marriage to an untitled gentleman had given her insight into her sister's situation.

Darcy arrived at his aunt's later that evening and had barely seated himself before the assault began.

"Out with it, Nephew. Why are you here?"

"It is lovely to see you again, Lady Victoria."

"Darcy, you never call in the evening unless you have important news."

"I travel to Kent in the morning."

"To see my sister."

"And your brother. The Earl is currently visiting Lady Catherine. Before I spoke to them I wished to speak with you." Lady Victoria had known what he was going to say before he even said it.

"You are to be married," she said matter-of- factly.

"Yes."

"Will my siblings approve?"

"Lady Catherine will not."

"Ah, so you are not going to marry Anne. I always knew you had more sense than that. From all reports, Anne would not have suited you at all. Will my brother be pleased with your choice of bride?"

"I am uncertain of his response."

"But you doubt he will. Who is this creature who has finally ensnared the master of Pemberley? Do I know her?"

"Her name is Elizabeth Bennet. I would be surprised if you know of her or her family. Her father has a small estate in Hertfordshire, and she has lived all her life in that country."

"A small estate, you say? How much of a dowry can she bring?"

"Next to nothing."

"Useful connections?"

"Other than a cousin who is Lady Catherine's new parson, none."

Lady Victoria clapped her hands together in glee. "I would love to be present when you inform my sister of this little bit of information."

"I rather suspected you would feel this way."

After a moment of gloating over her sister's disappointment, however, her concern for her favourite nephew returned.

"As much as I enjoy disobliging Catherine, I am still anxious for you. Are you certain you have made a prudent choice? Are you so in love with your Miss Bennet that you have allowed your judgement to be clouded?"

"I assure you that my heart did not overrule my head. I carefully considered the disadvantages of the match before I offered marriage. I readily admit that my bride's condition in life is decidedly below my own and that she has precious little experience in society apart from that in Hertfordshire. But Elizabeth is not some foolish backwater chit. She is an intelligent and charming woman. I have no doubt that with a little time and proper guidance she will become a worthy mistress of Pemberley and a credit to the Darcy name."

"Am I correct in assuming that when you speak of proper guidance, you are referring to me?" Lady Victoria never minced her words. Her nephew was equally frank.

"Partially. It is my hope that you will help me guide Elizabeth through the deep waters of her first season in Town."

"She has no one else?"

"There is an aunt and uncle who live in Cheapside. I hardly think they qualify."

Darcy waited for his aunt to reply. It had not occurred to him that she might not support his decision. The longer she delayed, the more nervous he became.

"Bring Miss Bennet to me. If I find her to be as intelligent as you have represented, I will help you. If, however, I find her vulgar or too much the simpleton, I strongly suggest you find a way to extricate yourself from the situation and marry someone who understands what is required of your wife. Are we agreed?"

"It seems I have little choice. I will ask Mr. Bennet to allow Elizabeth to come to Town to shop for her trousseau. I will then make arrangements for you to meet her. Perhaps you could attend her one day while she visits the modistes?"

"An excellent idea! There is no occasion that reveals a woman's true character better than a day spent in the shops of London. Now then, tell me more about your lady. How and where did you meet?"

Darcy spent the next hour relating the details of his acquaintance with Elizabeth. When he left, his aunt suspected two things: that Miss Elizabeth Bennet must be a remarkable woman for Darcy to overlook all the disadvantages of the match, and that her nephew was head over heels in love with the woman, even if he was oblivious to it himself.

The Darcy carriage pulled onto the cobble-stoned streets of London early the next morning. The lone passenger had instructed his driver not to over-tax the horses, as he was planning to return the very same day. Even with the leisurely pace, Darcy arrived at Rosings just past noon. He instructed the grooms that the horses were to be made ready for the return journey in the shortest time possible.

It was time to face his family.

Darcy was greeted by his surprised uncle and aunts; thankfully, his cousin was absent. Lady Catherine, the Earl, and his wife the Countess were gathered in one of Rosings' many ornate public rooms. Darcy had never liked Lady Catherine's ostentatious displays of wealth. There was nothing subtle about the house; it had been built to function as a clear declaration of the wealth of the owner. Every stick of furniture shouted the mistress' need for pomp, ceremony, and adulation. The furnishings were designed to intimidate. Darcy was never impressed.

"Darcy, what an unexpected surprise! What brings you to Kent?" Lady Catherine greeted her nephew.

Darcy acknowledged his elders with a respectful bow before sitting in a chair facing them.

"I have come to announce my engagement."

"You are finally ready to have the banns read to marry Anne."

"Pardon me, Aunt. I never said I was to wed my cousin."

"Of course you are. It was your mother's fondest wish. Your union has been anticipated for years."

"Lady Catherine, I am by neither honour nor inclination bound to fulfil your oft-stated wish to have me for a son-in-law."

"Come now, be reasonable. Marrying Anne would unite two great estates. This has always been expected of you," the Earl responded.

"With all due respect to my cousin, I am not marrying her. I have asked for the hand of another lady and she has accepted me. We are to be wed before the New Year."

"Enough of this nonsense; you are marrying Anne. Tell him, Brother."

"Catherine, I have spoken to him many times about the need to secure an heir for Pemberley. I know you must be disappointed that he has not chosen Anne, but give the boy a chance to speak." Lady Catherine met this with a cold glare. "Very well," the Earl continued, "who is it that you think are you marrying?"

"I have gained the hand of Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

"Bennet? I am not familiar with the name," replied the perplexed family patriarch.

Lady Catherine furrowed her brow. "Bennet ... Bennet. That name is familiar. Where have I heard it before?"

"Your clergyman is to inherit the estate of his Cousin Bennet, the father of my future wife."

"You are marrying the cousin of my parson? Have you lost all your senses?"

"I demand that you tell us more about this Miss Bennet," added the Earl.

"Her father is a gentleman. His estate is in Hertfordshire near the town of Meryton, in the village of Longbourn. The estate is entailed upon Lady Catherine's clergyman for the lack of a male heir by Mr. Bennet."

"Is this Elizabeth his only daughter?" the Countess asked. It was the first words she had spoken since Darcy arrived.

"She is the second oldest of five daughters."

"I sent Collins there to find a wife. Heaven forbid if he brings back a Bennet bride!" Lady Catherine was horrified.

Her brother ignored her outburst. "Has she been presented, at least?"

"No, she has lived all her life in the country."

"An uncouth bride from the wilds of Hertfordshire? Tell me that she has family in Town whom we know."

"None that you would know."

The Earl groaned. "Fortune?"

"None to speak of." Darcy was secretly enjoying his relatives' shock.

"Does she have any redeeming values?" his uncle asked, his voice echoing his feeling of impending doom.

"She is witty, lively, and nothing like the simpering females I have been forced to endure since I came of age."

"She is no one of any consequence," the Earl pronounced. "My God, boy! You have disgraced us all! How DARE you marry so far beneath you! This alliance is a disgrace. We will be laughed at, ridiculed behind our backs by our peers."

"That is none of my concern. I will marry the woman of my own choosing."

"Your wife will not be recognised by any of us."

"Any?"

"Oh my foolish sister may take a fancy to your wife, just to vex me. It matters little. It is my opinion on the matter that counts."

"I shall not be swayed by your wishes, only my own. Resign yourself to this marriage. Tomorrow's Times will carry an announcement of my betrothal. There is nothing you, or anyone, can do to stop this." Darcy looked at them, daring them to act. None spoke.

Darcy stood to take his leave. "I confess I had anticipated your reactions to my announcement. It was only for the sake of my mother's memory that I took the trouble to come in person rather than deliver the news by letter. When we meet in future, I hope you will give my wife the consideration that is her due. Until then, we have nothing left to discuss."

Darcy walked to the door and calmly turned to say one last word. "Uncle, you have forgotten one thing. I am no longer a boy. I am a gentleman and my own master. Please try to remember that."

Darcy was unsurprised when he heard his uncle calling to him. The abbreviated visit meant that Darcy's carriage was not yet ready to leave. To pass the time, he decided take a tour of the park. He had no idea when or if he would return to Rosings. After the initial shock of the interview had passed, he knew one of his family would make another attempt to reason with him, and his uncle was the obvious choice.

"Ah, there you are. I was afraid I would miss you."

"Uncle, unless you have come to tell me that you accept my choice of bride, there is little left to say."

"You cannot expect me to let the matter lie where we left it."

"No," Darcy sighed. "I am not naïve enough to think you would."

"Let us be reasonable. You cannot expect me to be overjoyed with your news. An engagement to any woman is a surprise. To one so beneath us is astounding."

"A surprise? You were the one who insisted I find a bride before the first snow had fallen on Georgiana's grave. My mourning period was not half over before you contrived to put me in the company of single women you deemed eligible to be my wife. Well, sir, I have done what you have asked – nay, demanded – of me. I have found a woman I want to marry, and before the New Year is upon us, I shall be wed."

"We both know that it is not so simple. Your wife has a duty to uphold the Darcy and the Fitzwilliam names. How can you possibly expect me to rejoice that you are marrying a woman of no fortune and inferior birth? How can such a woman live up to the honour of the position of Mrs. Darcy of Pemberley?"

"You judge her unworthy without having met her. For shame, sir."

"I do not need to meet this girl to know that she will struggle in her new role."

"Miss Bennet may struggle. It will take her time to assimilate herself into her new world. Nonetheless, if I doubted her aptitude for learning, I would not have made an offer to her. Let me be the judge of what I require in my wife."

"It would be so much simpler if you would just marry Anne."

Until this point Darcy had held his temper in check. After all, he knew his declaration would not sit well with his family. The frustrations of the last several days combined with the fatigue from travel conspired to loosen his pent up indignation.

"You stand here and tell me to marry my cousin, a woman of delicate constitution, who may never be able to bear me an heir. Your wish would mostly likely result in the end of my family's line. Tell me, did you plan our union in our cradles as well? Perhaps it was your idea in the first place, to consolidate the family wealth through marriage."

"The idea was first and always Catherine's and your mother's. They saw the advantage of the match, even if you do not."

"So I could be as happy as Lady Catherine and Sir Lewis were? Did your father pick my father for a son, as he picked Sir Lewis?"

"Your father was smitten with your mother. He may have lacked a title, but Pemberley was more than enough incentive to overcome any doubts my father or your mother had."

"Sir Lewis had Rosings – another jewel in the Fitzwilliam family crown. Tell me, was the knighthood part of Lady Catherine's dowry? It is a wonder that such has never been offered to me as an incentive."

The Earl started. Darcy saw it and knew he had unwittingly hit the mark.

"I see I have uncovered more of the truth. Was I to become Sir Fitzwilliam Darcy if I married Anne?" The older gentleman said nothing. His silence spoke volumes.

Darcy was disgusted. He wanted nothing more than to be alone and away from this place. Before he would go, he had one final question. "How is it that you can take such an interest in my marital state yet ignore the plight of your younger son?"

"What has Andrew to do with this?"

"I only wondered at the prodigious attention you have paid to my prospects, all the while knowing that my cousin needs to marry well. Have you no compassion for him?"

"He ... he is now just thirty, and he has a profession. A soldier is not necessarily in need of a wife."

"Save your excuses. You are wasting your breath with me. It is your son who ..." A sudden thought occurred to Darcy at that moment. "Or did you have a bride in mind for him as well?"

His uncle would not meet his gaze.

"Georgiana! She was his ward and still only a child!"

"I have never suggested anything of the kind to you."

"No, you never had the chance. At least I have this one solace – that my sister was spared your manipulation."

"What is left is nothing but speculation."

"What is lost is any remaining respect I had for you. You do not care for me, for Anne, or even your own son. We are only the means to an end. I want no more of your schemes for the improvement of your family. I have my own family, Pemberley, and all the people dependent on me to consider. I would rather bring them a mistress who embraces them because she is a caring person than a woman intent only on elevating her position in society. Elizabeth Bennet will be Mrs. Darcy. Elizabeth Bennet will become a revered mistress of Pemberley. Elizabeth Bennet will bear my children. Unless you are ready to be reasonable, we have nothing left to say. Goodbye."

Darcy turned on his heel and strode purposefully to his waiting carriage. He tapped the roof and the driver prodded the horses to move. Not once, as the team pulled the coach away from the great house, did Darcy look anywhere but straight ahead.

The journey to London was accomplished before dark. His time in Kent had played out much as he expected. Darcy knew his uncle and aunts would respond as they did. When he placed himself in their situation, he could even imagine himself reacting the way they had. But it did not excuse their attempt to force him into a life of their making.

Since his father died, Darcy had endeavoured to be a good landlord and a good master. He longed for the same praise as had once been lavished upon his predecessor. In his quest to live up to the expectations of his position, he had gradually come to realise that he must be his own man. Never had he felt more confidence in himself than when he was in the presence of Elizabeth Bennet. Effortlessly, she drew him out from his normal reserve. She truly listened to him. She valued the man inside, and he found it irresistible.

When he pondered his future, one thought, one word, came to mind repeatedly: companionship. He wanted it, he needed it, and in Elizabeth Bennet he had found a woman who could provide it. Her intellect would challenge him; her liveliness would complement his tendency toward sombreness. His uncle, the Earl, and his aunt, Lady Catherine, would never be able to comprehend this. Suddenly and unexpectedly Darcy felt pity for them. Both married and with children of their own, yet they both were still very much alone. Just as he had been until he met Elizabeth.

Mr. Collins had spent most of Wednesday mourning the loss of the love of his life. He spent most of Thursday observing the three youngest Bennet girls, and most of Friday debating how soon he could approach Mr. Bennet for permission to court Mary. He hoped an invitation to his cousin Elizabeth's wedding might be forthcoming; he could use that time to woo the middle Bennet child.

Mr. Bennet suspected that Collins would next attach himself to Mary. Her tendency toward moralizing might very well appeal to a man of the cloth. Still, considering what Darcy had told him of his expectation for the meeting with his aunt, Mr. Bennet had serious reservations that Collins' convictions would survive his patroness' denunciation of Fitzwilliam Darcy and the entire Bennet clan. In short, Mr. Bennet was counting the hours until Collins was safely on the road back to Hunsford, with no matters of honour to compel him to return. Mary did not deserve such a fool for a mate. Lydia, on the other hand ...

So it was on Saturday morning that one unmourned, if acknowledged, suitor was bid farewell, while one welcome, if anonymous, suitor was eagerly awaited. Darcy did not disappoint. By three in the afternoon, accompanied by Bingley, he rode to Longbourn to make the momentous call.

Posted on 2009-10-15

It was a most fortuitous time for Darcy and Bingley to call at Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet was visiting her sister Philips in Meryton and had taken Lydia and Kitty with her. Elizabeth could not believe her good luck. When she spied the two gentlemen approaching on horseback, a bolt of nervous anticipation shot through her. Jane saw her shiver.

"They are coming," was all Elizabeth said – and all that needed to be said. It was Jane's turn to anticipate the presence of her amore.

Elizabeth faced a bit of a conundrum. She wished to join Darcy and her father in the library, but knew Jane would be uncomfortable alone with Mr. Bingley. That gentleman's attentions were very promising, and Jane was encouraging him as much has her character and disposition allowed. The only other potential chaperone was Mary, but Mary was entrenched in her room, and Elizabeth knew it would take time to coax her into coming downstairs. After a slight hesitation, she made her decision and hurried to the door.

"Elizabeth Bennet, do not dare leave me alone!"

"I promise to return before the gentlemen are announced and, with any luck, with Mary in tow."

"Then hurry!" Jane pleaded to the now empty room. Breathlessly, Elizabeth walked into her next youngest sister's room, grabbed her hand, and began to pull the surprised girl into the hall.

"Elizabeth, wait!"

"We have no time to lose."

"I am in the middle of an important section of my book."

"That can wait. Right now, I need you in the drawing room. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy are at this very moment on our doorstep, and I promised Jane that I would not leave her alone with Mr. Bingley."

"But you and Mr. Darcy will be there. Why do you need me?"

"I have no time to explain. Please, trust me when I say I need your help." Elizabeth opened the drawing room door to find a pacing and very nervous Jane.

"Oh my, I was so worried you would not come before ..."

The door opened again and Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Bingley alone, was announced. As the others moved to be seated, Elizabeth politely excused herself. Mary looked at Elizabeth in amazement.

Jane gently placed her hand on Mary's and whispered, "Do not fret, you will soon understand."

With a sigh, Mary realised that Elizabeth had kept to the letter – if not the spirit – of her promise to not leave Jane alone with Mr. Bingley. She shrugged, saw that Jane and Bingley were already oblivious to her presence and returned to her book. Several minutes later, she abruptly remembered that Elizabeth told her Mr. Darcy had also come to call. Here was Mr. Bingley, but where was Mr. Darcy? For that matter, where had Elizabeth run off to? Mary's book was quite suddenly considerably less engrossing than it had been only moments ago.

Elizabeth knocked on the library door and entered before her father had a chance to respond.

"Elizabeth," Mr. Bennet teased, "is there something you need? It is only Mr. Darcy and I here, and you undoubtedly have no desire to spend more of your time in the gentleman's company than is absolutely necessary."

Elizabeth kissed her father's cheek before sitting next to Darcy. He in turn took her hand and brought it to his lips before returning his attention to Mr. Bennet. Elizabeth's fingers burned where his lips had touched her bare skin, but Darcy seemed unaware of the effects of his kiss.

"Your young man has just told me that he has completed his quest and there is no longer any impediment to announcing your betrothal. All that remains is for you to tell your mother and sisters. When might you muster up the courage for such revelations? I am certain your mother's nerves will deliver an outstanding performance."

Darcy was unable to hide his displeasure at the inference behind Mr. Bennet's words. Elizabeth had always overlooked her father's inappropriate speeches regarding the follies of their family; this time she felt all the shame that such behaviour should produce. Fortunately, Mr. Bennet did not notice Darcy's momentary lapse in hiding his true opinion, and Elizabeth quickly bridged the silence before it could become uncomfortable.

"I shall tell Mama this evening. I believe she would prefer to have at least a full day to plan dinner for my intended."

"Yes, the first meal with a daughter's fiancé should be one of the crowning moments in a mother's life. Mr. Darcy, you must join us tomorrow."

"I shall be honoured."

"Undoubtedly!" Mr. Bennet quipped.

This time Darcy shared in the general amusement. Elizabeth was relieved that he could see the humour and truth in her father's comment and realise that her father had not again spoken disrespectfully of his wife. Even were she the daughter of a peer, Darcy would be subjected to the same kind of attention. A daughter well married was every mother's goal.

Darcy did not expound on the meeting in Kent; he was much more forthcoming about his talk with Lady Victoria and his desire for Elizabeth to meet his aunt in Town before the wedding. Elizabeth already planned an excursion to the city to acquire items for her trousseau. It was agreed that they would travel to London the following week.

"There is one detail I would like to settle before we go any further," said Mr. Bennet. "I think it wise to set a wedding date before Elizabeth speaks to her mother. We had determined that the ceremony should take place during the week following Christmas. Do either of you have a preference for the exact date?"

"Christmas Day is a Wednesday. I believe Friday or Monday would be acceptable. What is your opinion, Elizabeth?" Darcy answered.

"I see the wisdom in either day. However, may I suggest Monday the 29th? That would give any family who wishes to come time to travel. Surely the Gardiners can stay that long?"

"I doubt my brother would need to return to Town before then. If Mr. Darcy has no objections, then the 29th it shall be." Darcy nodded in affirmation. "Very good. Mr. Darcy, you must have spent much of the day travelling. Perhaps you should take advantage of the fine weather and walk with the ladies and Mr. Bingley. I have been told he is somewhere on these grounds right now, undoubtedly in Jane's company."

When they entered the drawing room, Elizabeth took pity on Mary and announced her engagement then and there. Bingley was relieved to finally be able to express his good wishes. Darcy cautioned them that Mrs. Bennet had yet to be told, and all agreed to keep the news to themselves for one more day. Soon all five were walking the lanes around Longbourn; mercifully, Elizabeth and Darcy were allowed to walk alone behind the other three.

The conversation between the couple naturally directed itself to the events of the last week, for they had hardly any time alone since becoming engaged. Elizabeth regaled Darcy with a retelling of Mr. Collins' ill-timed addresses. She could see that the subject made him uneasy and reassured him that even had she not been promised to him, Mr. Collins would still have been refused.

"I have no doubt that you would have refused the man. That is not what troubles me."

"Then what does?"

"That such a man could fancy himself so violently in love after so short an acquaintance."

"You had not known me much longer before you made me an offer."

"True, but our situations bear little resemblance. I did not profess feelings that could exist only in my imagination. Mr. Collins' supposed regard for you will quickly fade, and I have no doubt that he will soon find another object for his attentions."

"You do not believe in love at first sight?"

"I have seen it, but I have never seen such a thing last a year through. Too often couples carried away by feelings of passion marry quickly. In a twelvemonth, passion has sunk into indifference. Within a few years, most are barely speaking to each other, yet they are bound in wedlock until death."

"You have many more acquaintances than I, and it is not surprising that you have seen this." Elizabeth walked several more paces before continuing. "Do you worry that this fate will befall us?"

Darcy heard the concern in Elizabeth's voice. He took her hand in his and squeezed it to reassure her.

"I do not profess to know what our future holds, but I have the utmost faith that such will not befall us. It is true that we have not known each other for long, but in that time, you have become one of my closest friends. I believe that the like-mindedness that exists between us is a better foundation for a happy marriage than the randomness of rash passion. It is not because I believe no passion will exist between us, but because we share a desire for something even more important."

"And what is that?"

"Companionship. Compatibility manifested in mutual regard, stimulating conversation, respect for the opinion of the other. Your intelligence and lively wit would demand no less from me. I alluded to it when I proposed. It is the one quality that I most sought in a wife. Surely you have experienced it when we are together?"

"Yes, I have. I will not deny that it was a primary reason I accepted you."

"Elizabeth, I cannot guarantee you marital bliss. That is inherently unreasonable to assume to be a certainty between two people when they wed. Only time will reveal our fate. I can, however, offer you my respect and my honesty."

Then after a short pause Darcy added, "And Elizabeth, while I said before that passion was not the reason I asked you to marry me, know that you are a beautiful woman and that I do desire you."

Each turned to search the other's face. Elizabeth blushed. "How unlucky that you should have a reasonable answer to give, and that I should be so reasonable as to admit it!" She smiled, and they continued walking.

"Fitzwilliam ... It still sounds so strange to call you that."

"I like it when you call me by my name."

"Fitzwilliam, tell me of Kent. How did your relations react to our news?"

Darcy's jaw tightened. Elizabeth could see that he was perturbed. "They were not pleased. Elizabeth, please do not question me further on this. It is still upsetting to remember their words to me."

"I did not mean to cause offence."

"It is not you who has offended. Forgive me, my dear, I did not mean to accuse you. Let us speak no more of it."

"As you wish." Elizabeth hesitated, then asked, "Will you tell me of your meeting in London with your other aunt?"

Darcy immediately relaxed. "My aunt, Lady Victoria, would very much like to meet you."

"As you said. Please tell me about her."

Darcy told her of his aunt's courtship and marriage to Reginald Arnold. Elizabeth was surprised.

"A love match?" she asked.

"I do not think so, at least not in the beginning. As a lad my mother told me that Aunt Victoria had decided that she wished to marry my uncle and once she had set her mind on it, no one could dissuade her. The Fitzwilliam clan have a decided tendency towards independence and obstinacy."

"Have you inherited it?"

"I would not know."

"Hmm," Elizabeth replied before returning to the subject of his aunt. "You said it did not begin as a love match, yet this implies that it became one."

"Yes, it did. It was obvious to anyone who saw them together that they held each other in tender regard. When my uncle died two years ago, my aunt was devastated."

"To lose a beloved spouse must have been a blow."

"Her sons rallied around her, as did her friends. Due to my aunt's position in society as the daughter of an earl, and my uncle's wealth, she has many acquaintances in both the titled and gentry classes of upper society. Those she called friends came to her side when her grief was greatest. Aunt Victoria chose well."

"She sounds quite formidable."

"Aye, she is. But she is a sensible woman who refuses to make hasty judgements."

"You mean to say that I must win her approval."

"If you wish to think of it in that manner, yes. You need not be afraid. She will find you a person of value as long as you are yourself."

"I sense her approval is important to you."

"It is. I ... I have hopes that at least one of my immediate family members will not oppose you."

"Fitzwilliam, what happened in Kent obviously distresses you. I do not understand why you still wish to marry me with such apparent opposition from your relatives.

"Elizabeth, it is nothing I did not anticipate. I admit that the reception I received in Kent was unpleasant, but I was not so naïve to expect anything else. Without going into specifics, I lost most of my respect for my uncle, and I refuse to bend to the will of a man whom I cannot esteem. I made it clear that I am my own man."

"Promise me that you will someday confide in me what happened?"

"I will." They walked a little further.

"This enmity still troubles me."

"I would not have it do so. The objections that they raised reflect only their own characters. I am entirely content in my decision and prospect of our marriage."

Elizabeth saw that he did not wish to discuss the matter further and wisely decided to change the subject. "Have you any family on your father's side?"

"I have no aunts or uncles on my father's side. My father was the eldest of five children. He had three sisters and one brother. None of the girls survived childhood. After my father married and I was born, my Uncle Robert joined the army and was killed. He had never married."

"How tragic! Your poor father! Do you have any cousins on your mother's side, or would you rather not speak about them now?"

"No, I have nothing against them. My uncle, the Earl of Perryton, and his wife have three children. Their oldest son, Martin, is to inherit. The second, Andrew, is a colonel in His Majesty's Army. He and I were very close growing up, and we both were my sister's guardians. The youngest, Harriet, is married to Viscount Northem.

"Aunt Catherine, married Sir Lewis de Bourgh, and they have one daughter, Anne. I believe you have heard much about her." They both smiled at his inference to Mr. Collins.

"Aunt Victoria and Uncle Reginald had four sons. The oldest is Michael, and he inherited the estate when my uncle died. Michael is married to Helen, and they have three children. His brother, Charles, was given the living for the family estate. The third son, Bartholomew, is the rector of Kympton near Pemberley, and the youngest son, Joseph, is at university, preparing for a career in the law."

"Two sons in the Church. I am surprised at least one did not go into the army or the navy."

"None of them wished it. My cousins prefer a life serving others and serving God. The middle two are too gentle in nature to make good fighting men. The youngest loves to debate, so he will do well as a barrister."

"Do you have other cousins?"

"No, the rest of my relations are all much further removed. In fact, right now, my heir is the grandson of my father's uncle."

"No wonder you are in a hurry to marry!" Elizabeth teased.

She was not prepared for the look on his face when he replied, "More than you know."

His look told her that although he was not marrying her in blind lust, he recognised that desire was part of their attraction. Thoughts of the unknown thrilled her, and his hand over hers suddenly felt much warmer. Elizabeth attempted to rein in these unfamiliar feelings through more conversation. She remembered the new book she had received just that afternoon.

"Thank you again for your gift. It is a handsome diary."

"I am pleased you like it. I did not know if you kept one."

"I do, but I am nearing the end of the current one. It is most fitting to begin a new book as I begin my new life. Do you keep a journal as well?"

"My father gave me my first when I was preparing to leave for school. It has been the habit of many generations of the masters of Pemberley to keep a diary. He felt it was a good time for me to learn to do the same. I confess this was one motivation for the gift. Not all the mistresses of Pemberley have kept a diary, but many have."

"It would please you if I did."

"Of course, hence the gift!"

"You are a fortunate man, Fitzwilliam. I have secreted my thoughts on paper for many years now and have no intention of stopping."

"When we get to Derbyshire I will show you the collection of the old journals. They are kept in a locked section of the library. Right now, only I have the key to them. You shall have it too, if you wish."

"I do wish it. I would very much like to know more of your family's history."

"It will be part of your family's history, too, Elizabeth, and our children's. Soon you shall be a Darcy. Elizabeth Darcy. I like the sound of that."

When he said her new name he did not just say it as much as he caressed it. All doubts were sublimated in the sensations that his voicing her future name produced.

Elizabeth spent the evening preparing her speech to her mother. As the household prepared for bed, Elizabeth went to her mother's chambers. She had no expectations for her mother's reaction other than that it would be extreme; she was, therefore, thoroughly shocked when Mrs. Bennet could not speak for many minutes after she was told. This silence was, unfortunately, short lived. Mrs. Bennet had expected that Elizabeth would be comfortably settled with her unnamed fiancé, but never in her wildest dreams had she considered a man of ten thousand a year. What wealth her Lizzy would have! What advantages to share with her family! Hang the hedgerows, Mrs. Bennet would never have to worry for her security in life again!

The following week

The coach with the Darcy crest rumbled down the road to London, its owner the sole occupant. It had been another trying week for Fitzwilliam Darcy. At dinner on Saturday he announced his engagement to the family at Netherfield. Bingley had known for days, but continued to express his sincere congratulations; his sisters were another matter entirely. Mrs. Hurst, at least, had the grace to withhold her opinion, but Miss Bingley was not so well composed. Caroline insisted that Darcy must be joking, and a cruel joke at that. Elizabeth Bennet of all people! When her brother confirmed his friend's sincerity, she managed to convey the depth of her outrage in a few short sentences before Bingley was able to interrupt her, lest she go too far.

Darcy knew that Caroline Bingley would be disappointed; her hopes for a match with him had long been displayed. He had allowed her outburst – that one time. If she were savvy enough to understand that she risked losing his notice and any hope of future invitations to Pemberley, she would have to come to terms with his marriage.

The next morning, Darcy met Elizabeth and her family for church. His presence at her side garnered many surprised looks and guaranteed many inquiries once the service was over. However, it served its purpose. By the time the other parishioners returned to their homes, Darcy and Elizabeth's engagement was common knowledge. Mrs. Bennet saw to that.

Dinner that night at Longbourn was torture of another kind. Since Darcy had come into society, he had suffered the effusive attentions of nearly every unmarried woman to whom he was introduced. Only marginally more distasteful were their mothers. Constantly seeking his favour, constantly promoting the interests of their daughters, such women became extremely tiresome. Elizabeth Bennet may not have been like most of the marriageable women he met, but her mother was every bit the rapacious matchmaker he abhorred. And even now, with the match made, the betrothal announced, the wedding date set, she would not rest. Her not so subtle hints about the advantages he could bestow on her family, most especially in securing rich husbands for her youngest girls, wore on his nerves. Sly inferences to Elizabeth's use of feminine arts to catch him in marriage caused him to sink further into himself. It took tremendous self- control to hide his revulsion. He was grateful only for the fact that his relations did not witness the spectacle.

After supper, Mr. Bennet took pity on Darcy and whisked him away for port and cigars. The gentleman did have his moments – the bad and the good. When they rejoined the women, Darcy could see that Elizabeth did all that she could to shield him from her mother and had enlisted Jane's help as well. When Mrs. Bennet required Elizabeth's notice, Jane was there to take her place. And so the evening continued until it was time for Darcy to return to Netherfield. Elizabeth saw him out. Her words and posture told him she was just as relieved as he that the evening was finally over. She thanked him for his forbearance and bade him goodnight. Had Mr. Bennet not been watching, Darcy would have kissed her. Surely he had earned that reward! But it was not meant to be; Darcy said farewell and rode away.

During the next few days, Mrs. Bennet found that she required Elizabeth's presence as she made calls on her neighbours; her time to display her daughter and exult in the capture of the greatest prize the country had ever seen was short, and she intended to make the most of it. Elizabeth found consolation in Darcy's daily calls at Longbourn after the ladies had returned. The weather was favourable, and Elizabeth and Darcy escaped to walk the grounds at every opportunity. They spoke of many inconsequential things. They shared stories of their childhoods, retold memories of loved ones now passed, and talked of their immediate future. Darcy was thankful that the Gardiners would house the Bennets while they were in Town.

He was soon on his way to London to await the Bennets' arrival. Darcy wished to have a few days to personally prepare his house and staff to receive a visit from the next mistress. The added bonus of this early return to London was his removal from daily exposure to a sullen Miss Bingley and an overbearing Mrs. Bennet. He began counting the days ... two and twenty more and he would take Elizabeth away from such unsuitable company.

The Bennets arrived at Gracechurch Street on Monday afternoon. Mr. Bennet had sent Jane with Elizabeth for support. He had volunteered to remain at Longbourn with Mary, Kitty, and Lydia knowing that his eldest daughters could manage their mother, with their uncle and aunt's help. Mr. Bingley had gallantly offered to escort the ladies to London, as Mr. Bennet suspected he would.

Darcy called at the Gardiners that same evening to extend an invitation to come to his house so that Elizabeth could inspect her future residence. Before Darcy could escape, he was invited to stay for dinner. Darcy remembered how much Elizabeth had praised her uncle and aunt, and he rapidly ascertained that her description of the couple was accurate. He had worried that Mr. Gardiner would be like his sister, but thankfully, that was not the case. On the whole, the evening was pleasant, and if not for Mrs. Bennet, Darcy would have called the experience quite surprisingly enjoyable.

On Tuesday, the ladies began shopping in earnest. Wednesday morning was again dedicated to expanding Elizabeth's trousseau, but the afternoon was reserved for her first real foray into her new life.

When the coach arrived at an elegant house in a fashionable district, none of the four ladies said much; each was too much in awe of the size and splendour of Elizabeth's future abode. Not for the first time did Elizabeth contemplate the great gulf in situation and social standing that she would cross with her marriage to Mr. Darcy. She made an effort to compose herself as the women were shown into a sitting room where Darcy and an older woman were waiting to receive them. He wasted no time in making the introductions.

"Ladies, may I present my aunt, Lady Victoria Arnold."

"It is an honour to meet you, Lady Victoria," Elizabeth said when she rose from her curtsey. "Mr. Darcy has spoken often of you and your family, and with great affection."

"Has he now?" Lady Victoria motioned for Elizabeth to sit beside her.

"He has nothing but the highest respect for you."

"He was always an obliging boy. But he is a boy no longer and soon to be wed. Darcy told me that I have been commissioned to take you shopping tomorrow."

"I am grateful for your consideration, my Lady.

"I look forward to getting better acquainted with my future niece."

Lady Victoria spent a few more minutes conversing with the rest of the party, then took her leave.

Darcy summoned his housekeeper, Mrs. Thomas, to accompany them on a tour of the house. The size and sheer number of rooms, the beauty and grace of the furnishings, all were striking. Netherfield was a fine country residence, but Darcy House was all that was sophistication and elegance without ostentation. Several times, Jane gave Elizabeth a little look, concerned for her sister's equanimity. Elizabeth remained outwardly serene, but inwardly, she wondered at her ability to be mistress of such a household. Darcy House was enormous, but she knew that Pemberley was even larger. Would she be successful in managing such an immense estate? She communicated her anxiety to Jane with a lift of her eyebrows and a slight tip of her head. Jane gave a small nod in acknowledgment.

Mrs. Gardiner, although evidently impressed, was true to her own good sense. She asked intelligent questions about several of the more interesting architectural features, and was her usual consummate example of breeding and fine manners. Mrs. Bennet was her usual consummate example, but less of fine manners than of unrestrained sensibility. She was initially so much in awe of the house and of her daughter's future aunt that she had, for the most part, remained mercifully silent. However, as the tour progressed, the grandeur of the place where her daughter would soon preside as mistress unleashed her normal exuberant self. If Darcy was offended by his bride's mother's exaltations, Elizabeth could not fault him; for all the earlier restraint, her mother was her mother still. Elizabeth loved all her family, but she was not blind to their faults and the predisposition of some to unseemly behaviour.

Finally, the party arrived at the family wing and the mistress' chambers. They were delightful, if not a bit dated.

Darcy pulled Elizabeth away from the others. "How do you like your rooms?"

"Most pleasant. I will be comfortable here."

"It is yours to do with as you please. It is exactly as my mother left it."

"Exactly?"

"Perhaps 'exactly' is not the proper word, but nothing has been changed since her passing. My father wished it to remain as it was."

"And you continued to honour his request."

"I suppose I thought I would leave it to the next mistress to decide."

"Did this extend to your own quarters?"

"No, I could not stay in them as they were. Too many memories of the former inhabitant. I had my rooms redecorated. Do not feel that you need to retain these unaltered."

"I admit that the style is not exactly to my taste, but I am in no rush to redecorate for the sake of change itself. I have quite enough to hold my attention in the immediate future."

"Very well. But you will promise to address this at a later date."

Elizabeth laughed. "You may depend upon it! I am not overly fond of certain colours that now adorn the walls."

"Then I shall have them changed at once."

"Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth paused before proceeding further, afraid that her mother or aunt had heard her use his Christian name. "All in good time. In general, the accommodations are delightful, and I can certainly wait until I have time to devote my attention to it."

"Elizabeth." Darcy leaned a little closer. "I have a confession to make."

"A confession?"

"I never liked the colours my mother chose, either."

"Then why have you not changed them?"

"I have told you. I wished to leave it for the next inhabitant of the suite."

"In that case, perhaps I shall give it my earliest attention. Would that please you?"

"Most definitely. When we are in Town after the wedding, we can look at fabrics and such."

"A reasonable plan of action." Elizabeth moved away from him. "But I think the others grow weary of our private conversation."

"I have monopolized you long enough. Let us have tea before you must return to the Gardiners'."

Lady Victoria arrived at Gracechurch Street the next morning to collect Elizabeth and Jane for a day of shopping. The previous day's brief meeting had done nothing to discredit Elizabeth in the older woman's eyes, but it had not caused her to bestow her blessing, either. If Elizabeth was intimidated by the prospect of spending the day in the company of the sole Darcy relation who did not already disapprove of her, she did her best not to show it. Some credit must be given, she admitted, to Jane's calming presence; her older sister always was a good influence on her.

The three ladies were deposited in front of Lady Victoria's favourite modiste. Elizabeth had never shopped in this particular street, as she knew such places were beyond her family's means. But she was to be a Darcy, and Fitzwilliam had pledged to supplement Elizabeth's funds to enable her to dress like a Darcy. For the first time in her life, her choices would be guided by the dictates of fashion, not the dictates of prudence and economy. She was determined to relax, attend to the task at hand, and enjoy herself.

Once settled in a comfortable private room, designs and sketches were produced for the ladies' perusal. Elizabeth and Jane had similar tastes in clothing, but this did not preclude Elizabeth from asking her soon-to-be aunt's advice.

"Lady Victoria, I know Mr. Darcy wishes that I choose gowns appropriate for an evening out, but I am afraid my country upbringing does not serve me well here. I have little knowledge of what is now fashionable in Town. Perhaps you would help me choose suitable styles for such gowns?"

"A reasonable request." Picking up several sketches, Lady Victoria calmly handed them to Elizabeth. "I think you will find that these designs are the height of current fashion."

Elizabeth shared them with Jane and noted the daring cuts. "I have seen something similar in the fashion magazines. These are indeed beautiful, but I believe they require considerable discernment when selecting the appropriate material. Here again, my Lady, your advice would be both invaluable and welcome."

There now, I have done it. I have asked for her assistance in the most respectful way I know. The next move is hers.

Lady Victoria's eyes revealed nothing as she regarded Elizabeth for a moment; she nodded, called for their things, and escorted the sisters to the elegant establishment of a respected silk mercer where some of the most beautiful fabrics Elizabeth and Jane had ever seen were being brought out for approval. Lady Victoria made subtle suggestions; Elizabeth quickly understood and was able to request the most suitable materials. Jane's knowledge of her sister's preferences was a perfect complement to the older woman's knowledge of fashion's tastes. In less time than she would have thought possible, Elizabeth had selected the patterns and materials for nearly a dozen of the many exquisite gowns required by the woman who would become Mrs. Darcy.

Such taxing endeavours required tea. Lady Victoria suggested a shop just down the street and they decided it was not too far to walk. Seated with tea and cake, her ladyship began to question Elizabeth.

"My nephew has told you of his desire to have you presented at Court after your marriage."

"He has spoken of this." Elizabeth's voice held little pleasure.

"You do not wish to do so?"

"My wishes are irrelevant. I accept that it is expected of the wife of Mr. Darcy of Pemberley and if my husband desires it, I will submit to it. I understand his reasoning well enough. He thinks of the future and of our children. It is for him and for them that I would do this, no matter how little pleasure I may find in the idea."

"So you would rather not make your curtsey."

"Lady Victoria, I do not find validation of my worth as an individual in the rituals of the privileged. Neither do I scorn the honour. I simply do not require it for my own happiness."

A smile tugged at the corners of the older woman's mouth. "Well said, Miss Elizabeth, well said." Lady Victoria took another sip of tea, then addressed Jane. "Your sister will miss you, I think, Miss Bennet."

Elizabeth noted the change in Lady Victoria's tone and expression and was relieved to discover that Darcy's aunt did not seem to hold her in derision. She still was unsure how the lady felt about her, but Elizabeth began to hope they could, eventually, share the kind of camaraderie that she had with her Aunt Gardiner. They chatted for a while longer and then continued on the ever-expanding mission to clothe Elizabeth as befitted her future station in life.

Later that evening, Darcy called upon his aunt at the Arnold residence.

"Your Elizabeth is neither conceited nor too vain."

"Too vain?"

"All women are somewhat vain, Darcy. A worthy woman does not allow her vanity to overrule her good sense."

"You approve of her, then?"

"At this time, I do not disapprove. She seems a clever, witty, unpretentious woman. You could have done much worse, even among the ton. However, she has much to learn, and you will spend a small fortune just to see her suitably attired."

"I have foreseen this. Is it your intention to help Elizabeth spend my money thusly?"

"She will need someone to help her. You would only be in the way."

Darcy smiled at his aunt's teasing; he knew it to be a sign of her growing respect for his intended bride.

"You have taken it upon yourself to see her clothed as befits her station. Are you also willing to assist her preparations for the forthcoming season and her presentation at St James's?"

"Will you be in Town much before then?"

"No. Only a few weeks, at most, before April."

"That could present a problem. When would I be able to call?"

"I see your point. This is why I wish to invite you to Pemberley, if Michael and Helen can bear to let you come."

"I think my son and his wife could be persuaded to part with me." Lady Victoria rolled her eyes. "Poor Helen. I think she has had the most difficult time of us all since my husband's death. I love her dearly, but I sometimes wish she would exert herself more as the mistress of the house that she now is."

"She shows character in deferring to you."

"Think of it as you may. Oh, I appreciate her concern for my feelings, but you mistake me. She needs to grow into her role, and sometimes I think my presence hinders her."

"All the more reason to come to Pemberley."

"Have you considered that I might do the same to your wife?"

"Miss Bennet is not Helen."

"For your sake, I hope not. You need a wife to challenge you."

Darcy smiled. "I agree. Please come to Pemberley."

"Please speak with Miss Bennet."

"I will, although I am certain Elizabeth will agree that you are indispensable. If that is not enough, I will tell your son that I am abducting his mother, and he need not bother trying to get you back."

Lady Victoria laughed. "You are a Fitzwilliam – much too accustomed to getting your own way. Speak to Miss Bennet; if she agrees, I will come."

Chapter Six

Posted on 2009-10-20

The following Monday found Darcy once again on the road to Hertfordshire, this time sharing his coach and the journey with Bingley, both travelling with the Bennet coach back to Netherfield and Longbourn. The friends had lapsed into a comfortable silence not long after leaving the outskirts of the great city. Of Bingley's thoughts he knew not; for his own part, Darcy was quietly reviewing the experiences of the previous week.

He had dined three times with Elizabeth's family at Gracechurch Street and had to admit that the Gardiners were very respectable people. Still, he found it difficult to reconcile how a man of such good manners, taste, and sensibility as Mr. Gardiner could have as a sister a woman of so little sense or decorum as Mrs. Bennet. Then again, the same could be said of Elizabeth and Jane Bennet in comparison to their younger sisters. Time spent with certain members of his prospective family only confirmed both his belief that Elizabeth had the grace and poise to adapt to her new position, and his relief that Hertfordshire was a long two-day's journey from Derbyshire.

However, he and Elizabeth would be in Town, only half a day's journey from Longbourn, for the many months of the season. Mrs. Bennet would most certainly expect an invitation to visit them in London, and he was equally certain that she would insist on bringing her younger daughters. If no invitations were forthcoming, curiosity – or worse, matchmaking madness – might even lead her to arrive unannounced. She had dropped too many less-than-subtle hints that she expected her daughter's marriage to put Elizabeth's sisters in the path of rich men, in effect making Darcy responsible for finding them wealthy husbands. The very thought of introducing the silly Kitty and Lydia to Society, neither of whom had the faintest sense of propriety, was too awful to consider.

Thus, temporarily pre-empting his future mother- in-law became very appealing. Darcy reasoned that if he hosted a dinner at his townhouse for the three Bennet ladies now in London along with their Gardiner relations, he could more easily justify a lack of an invitation for his new relations soon after the wedding. As for the issue of the younger Bennet girls, he would make known to Mrs. Bennet that this first season was for Mrs. Darcy, and Mrs. Darcy alone. Pleased with his scheme, he asked Lady Victoria to act as his hostess for the dinner; she was happy to offer her assistance and take advantage of another opportunity to observe Elizabeth.

The Gracechurch Street party arrived for the dinner just slightly more than fashionably late. Darcy quickly saw that Elizabeth was annoyed and tentatively concluded that Mrs. Bennet had orchestrated the delay. Elizabeth's apologies for their tardiness seemed to confirm his suspicions.

"Do not concern yourself," Darcy said to Elizabeth with a wave of his hand. "You are here now, and we still have nearly half an hour before dinner is served."

"Thank you for your understanding. Please extend my apologies to Lady Victoria. Mama was ... inconveniently delayed."

Elizabeth tried very hard to not roll her eyes, but was not entirely successful, despite her evident concern that they had offended Darcy's aunt. Darcy quietly reassured her, then deftly changed the subject.

"Has your time in Town been sufficient for your needs?"

"For now, yes."

"We will return here for a short time after the wedding and then again before the season. We can address your remaining requirements at that time."

"You are quite the fashion authority, Mr. Darcy. First the décor of my chambers, and now the adornment of my person. Is there anything else you wish to redecorate?"

Darcy's eyes sparked in amusement. He admired Elizabeth's ability to throw off her earlier agitation and not allow it to interfere with her present mood.

"Not at this time. However, when we are married, I retain the right to make further suggestions. You must allow that I need time to discover your secrets."

"You believe me a mystery?"

"All women are mysteries. Any prudent man will admit that."

"I believe I should add sensible to the list of your qualities."

They returned their attention to the others, and the rest of the evening was, on the whole, pleasant for all.

Lady Victoria stayed on after the other guests had departed, knowing that her nephew would wish to hear her appraisal. They sat beside the fire in the library, conversing and sipping their tea. Not wanting to over-tire his older relative by detaining her much longer, Darcy quickly moved the conversation to the events of the night.

"Tell me your opinion of the evening."

"Your Elizabeth grows in my estimation. She handled herself well tonight, considering the situation." Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Come now, you know to what I am referring. I still cannot believe that you picked Miss Bennet knowing that you would be gaining such a mother-in-law. She is just like my brother's wife!"

"I will not tell the Earl you said that."

"I have told him much the same to his face. Harriet Bennet and Alice Fitzwilliam could be sisters as far as temperament."

"I had noticed. It was another reason I could not summarily dismiss Elizabeth as a potential bride. She is adept at dealing with her mother. I reasoned that this experience would serve her well when in company with certain of my family and with the ton. Having a foolish wife has not harmed my uncle's standing in society."

"Perhaps not, but a title excuses more grievous faults than having a silly wife."

"True, but the Darcy name and what it represents has some cachet. I have every confidence that my future wife will be a success, despite her relations. It is unlikely that society will be greatly exposed to Mrs. Bennet and I will see – with your help – that Elizabeth has first established herself as Mrs. Darcy before introducing her mother to any of our society."

"I begin to suspect that your deliberations in considering whether to offer marriage were much more thorough than anyone knows." Again Darcy raised his eyebrow. "You have made your point," the lady conceded. "I am not implying that I have fallen under some spell cast by Miss Bennet. However, all I have learned of her so far is in her favour."

"That is all I ever asked."

A heavy sigh from across the carriage brought Darcy back to the present.

"What can elicit such from you, Bingley?"

"What?"

"All the lovesick noises you are making lead me to believe that you would prefer a different companion in this coach."

"Sometimes you are insufferable. Please tell me you would not prefer that Miss Elizabeth were here in my place."

"Certainly, but then she would be Mrs. Darcy, and we would be heading away from Longbourn."

"In two more weeks you shall. I envy you."

"What of your Miss Bennet? Just what are your intentions towards her? As if I need to ask."

"Ha! I see that you will enjoy being the elder brother. And no, you should not need to ask. I will plead my suit very soon."

"You have no doubt of its successful outcome?"

Bingley looked startled, then uneasy. "Has Miss Elizabeth confided ... do you have reason to think ...?"

"Calm yourself, I am toying with you. Despite the serenity of her countenance, no one who knows her could doubt that Miss Bennet is devoted to you. And as I have told you many times, she is a lovely woman. I am pleased to call her sister ... and will be honoured to call you brother."

Bingley's relief was palpable. "Thank you for that. I also am honoured at the prospect of becoming your brother, despite your ill-conceived sense of humour, and Miss Elizabeth will be a welcome addition and delightful contrast to my current coterie of sisters. I assure you that I will speak to Miss Bennet soon. In the meantime, enjoy all the attention, old man."

"I gladly bequeath to you all the joy of Mrs. Bennet's attentions and ministrations. Your time will come, after your betrothal. At least in returning to Netherfield I have a better chance of seeing you before my own wedding."

Bingley coloured at Darcy's pronouncement and tried to defend himself. "I had things to do while in London."

"Such as calling on Miss Bennet?"

"Among others, yes."

"I think you spent more time at the Gardiners' than anywhere else."

"Do not take offence, but the company there was much easier on the eyes."

The friends laughed in easy understanding, and the rest of the journey was spent in pleasant and companionable conversation.

As Christmas drew near, the Hertfordshire weather turned very cold. The ground was white with frost, the vegetation brown and dormant, the skies grey and often threatening snow. Such conditions encouraged all but the hardiest of outdoor enthusiasts to remain comfortably warm indoors. Elizabeth was one of the few who nevertheless ventured forth, but whether she did so because of her love of walking or from a desire to seek sanctuary from the endless preparations for her wedding was debatable. Whatever their motivation, Elizabeth's rambles offered Darcy a rare opportunity to spend time with her alone.

"Elizabeth!" Darcy called in greeting as he came towards her on his horse.

"Fitzwilliam! I see you have found me yet again."

"You did conveniently mention that this is your favourite route in such weather."

"I am delighted to discover that you are a man who can take a hint. Another addition to the ever- growing list of qualities that I find admirable in you."

"Someday you must share your list with me."

Darcy dismounted from his horse and offered his arm to Elizabeth. She gladly accepted, and the two continued on together.

"Are the arrangements I proposed for our time after the wedding agreeable to you?" Darcy asked.

"Yes, indeed they are. Spending a few days in Town then time alone in Brighton is an excellent idea. And I must admit I am eager to see Pemberley. I have heard so much about it, and I am looking forward to becoming settled in my new home."

"Lady Victoria has agreed to visit us at Pemberley. I hope you are not now displeased with the idea."

"No, not at all."

"Elizabeth, I would not have asked her to come unless I believed it important. You will need her advice as you prepare for the season."

"Yes," Elizabeth sighed, "I know."

"This troubles you?"

Elizabeth walked several more paces before answering. "Sometimes I wonder why you chose me. You should be marrying a woman who was brought up to fill such a position."

Darcy stopped and turned to face Elizabeth. After glancing around to confirm their privacy, he touched his lips to hers. What began as a soft, reassuring kiss unexpectedly deepened as Elizabeth responded to him. Without thought they moved into an embrace, each one's hands, at the same time both cautious and bold, exploring the unknown territory of a caress.

The sound of a dog barking somewhere in the distance snapped Darcy from his stupor, and he slowly and ever so gently ended the passionate interlude. Neither wanted the sensations of the moment to end; Elizabeth allowed him to pull her into an embrace, laying her head against his chest while her breathing calmed. She was amazed at how much she needed the reassurance of his touch.

The first time he kissed her, on the morning he proposed, had opened a door to feelings Elizabeth had never experienced; the initial awakenings of desire were born that day. Her body was that of a woman, but until that moment, she had not known what it meant to feel like a woman. Until that moment, so many things that had been puzzling or mysterious could finally be understood.

To be attracted to a man was one thing; to feel a man's body under one's fingertips was another thing entirely.

"Elizabeth, each day I grow more and more convinced that you are the best woman for me, and I look forward to taking you as my wife. I know that you will always make me proud."

"I hope I will, Fitzwilliam."

"Where is the confident Miss Elizabeth Bennet?"

"She is getting married, sir. In less than a fortnight. And if she tells you she is not apprehensive, she is lying."

"All brides are apprehensive, or so I have been told."

"And bridegrooms? Are they apprehensive, too?"

"Yes, if they are honest with themselves. Marriage is never to be entered into lightly. Men wonder what the future holds as much as their brides do."

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy.

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam," she said quietly. They shared one final, brief kiss before Elizabeth, smiling and strangely content, stepped out of his embrace, took his hand, and turned to walk down the path back to Longbourn.

The remaining days before Christmas were filled with activity. There were the usual round of holiday visits, dinners, and parties to attend, supplemented this year by festivities marking the forthcoming marriage. Darcy's presence as the grand prize was essential, and he bore it with admirable calmness. He called at Longbourn every day, usually accompanied by Bingley, who was happy to leave his sullen sister at Netherfield. Caroline had little inclination to visit the home of her victorious rival; she often cited the cold as a reason to remain behind with her sister, when she bothered to make any excuse at all.

Darcy was surprised to discover that he was looking forward to the Christmas celebrations. It had been a very long time since Pemberley was as merry as Longbourn. Last year, the first without Georgiana, had been too full of sorrow and regret and the years after his mother's and then father's deaths were far from memorable. He began to envision future holidays surrounded by a large family of his own; he hoped Elizabeth would consent to more children than the requisite "heir and a spare."

He recalled her surprise at the delight he took in the Gardiners' offspring. He had always been fond of children and could not understand why people always seemed so astonished by his evident enjoyment of them. Was not everyone a child before they grew to adulthood? Had they forgotten the wonder of discovery and the refreshing honesty found in the very young? Even Wickham had been a carefree boy at one time. His vicious tendencies displayed only as he grew older.

Darcy saw the pleasure Elizabeth took in the company of her family. Yes, he noticed when she was annoyed – and when she was embarrassed – but she did not allow such things to interfere with her enjoyment of her final Christmas with her sisters and parents. Indeed, he had discerned a few wistful looks on her face. She would miss Longbourn, of that he had no doubt. Perhaps, one day, they would return to Hertfordshire for the holiday. He could not imagine inviting the Bennets to Pemberley for Christmas; the chance of being indefinitely snowed in with them was more than he could contemplate. Summer was a much better option; estate business would provide an excuse whenever he needed a respite from his in-laws.

The Gardiners had delayed their arrival until the day before Christmas, but their stay in Hertfordshire would extend until after the wedding. Mr. Bennet seemed relieved to have another male residing in the house and almost as soon as was polite, whisked Mr. Gardiner away to his library, asking Darcy to join them. Once safely ensconced, Mr. Bennet poured each a glass of port.

"You wasted little time," Mr. Gardiner teased his brother.

"Before you ask, Brother, the wedding preparations are progressing nicely. In one week's time, this man," Mr. Bennet raised his glass to Darcy, "will marry my very deserving second daughter, robbing me forever of the most sensible companion in this house."

"You have covered a variety of subjects in one very short speech," quipped Mr. Gardiner as he quaffed his port.

"You have not been subjected to my wife lately."

"On the contrary, sir, you recently allowed me the pleasure of hosting my sister for more than a week."

"Touché!" Mr. Bennet conceded with a smile. "I trust your journey was uneventful?"

"Of course. We made excellent time, no matter what my sister may believe. The children have been looking forward to the visit and the wedding."

"Back to the wedding so quickly! If you must remind me of my coming doom perhaps you have some advice for this young man."

Mr. Gardiner made a great show of considering his words. He had enjoyed getting to know the gentleman from Derbyshire. Darcy was always civil and seemed to be taking pains to get acquainted with the family, if only for Elizabeth's sake. He had not detected love on either Darcy's or Elizabeth's part, but he did see fondness and respect between them. Perhaps this was the right time for a particular piece of advice.

"Mr. Darcy, the best advice I received before I married came from my late father-in-law. He told me to heed the words from scripture, 'Do not let the sun go down on your anger.' He said that was especially true in marriage. It is inevitable that you will have disagreements, especially with such a strong-willed individual as Elizabeth. If you allow yourself to harbour anger, it will fester over time and turn to resentment. It is better to separate, contemplate the situation, then attempt to resolve your differences with all due haste. The longer an issue remains unresolved, the more it is able to hurt both of you deeply, and the longer it will take to overcome."

Darcy instantly saw the wisdom in Mr. Gardiner's words. "Thank you, sir. I shall remember your words and your kindness in sharing them."

Darcy awoke very early on Christmas morning. It was only six o'clock and the sun would not rise for more than two hours. He tried to go back to sleep, but to no avail. Finally, frustrated, he got out of bed and pulled on his heavy robe, then stoked the fire to warm the room. That task accomplished, he lit a candle and sat at his writing desk. In the years since becoming Master of Pemberley, he had developed the habit of writing letters to his departed father. Putting his thoughts onto paper thusly always seemed to help him through the loneliness.

Christmas Morning, 1811

Dear Father,

Another Christmas has come, the fifth without you, and once again I find myself awake too early and with pen in hand.

This will be my second Christmas alone, but in reality our family began to leave me when Mother passed on. You, Georgiana, and I always tried to celebrate the day together and with some success, although we both know that Christmas was never the same without Mother. Then five years ago, you left Georgiana and me to face the world alone. It was so very difficult. How could I ever hope to replace you? Andrew and I tried to be the best guardians for Georgiana, and I fancy that we were tolerable. She certainly lacked for nothing – with the exception of the love of a parent. Only you and Mother could ever truly give her that.

In my previous letters, I have told you how difficult the next four Christmases were for us. I think that on this day we always felt the loss of you most keenly. Then the accident last autumn robbed me of the last of our family. I have told you of my tears, my melancholy, and my emptiness. In all my life I never felt so insignificant as I did one year ago today. Who was this Fitzwilliam Darcy? Would he, could he, ever find meaning and contentment again? No one I held dear remained. Only my tenants were left for me to look after. Much is still the same today; I have no one to care for. But that will change in five days.

Father, I am to be married. I marry a woman of little fortune, fewer connections, but great character. The Earl and his wife are displeased. Lady Catherine is furious. Only Lady Victoria has given my future wife any notice. You should know your sister-in-law well enough to appreciate that she would be the only one to afford my Elizabeth the honest opportunity to win her approval. My bride-to-be is Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn, Hertfordshire. Her father is a gentleman of an insignificant estate. He sends his daughters to seek husbands armed only with their charms and minuscule dowries, and yet his Elizabeth has managed to secure me. How could I choose such a woman, you may ask? An excellent question.

Father, if you had met Elizabeth and knew nothing of her background, if she had an earl for a grandfather and twenty thousand pounds to her name, you would have no hesitation in approving of her as my wife. Indeed, she would have been a prize had she been launched in society with a season in Town. She is intelligent, witty, handsome, full of life and good health. She is exactly the kind of woman I have always thought would suit me. Because the money designated for Georgiana will remain with the estate, I did not feel the need to replace it with a well-dowered bride. I am willing to overlook Elizabeth's lack of connections when I consider how little I care to be in society. And while Elizabeth has not grown up in the best of environments to prepare her to be the next mistress of Pemberley, the simple fact that she has overcome these obstacles to become a dignified young lady speaks most eloquently of the quality of her character, her sense of decorum, and her abilities.

You might ask if I love her. I will answer that I do not. I esteem and respect her. I am fond of her. I desire her. But my heart has not, and will not, be touched. On this I am firmly resolved. Romantic love is one thing; the reality of living is another.

In Elizabeth I have found a companion with whom I can share my life. Next Christmas, I will not be alone. Elizabeth, my wife, will be with me. Perhaps I will be content enough not to feel compelled to write to you again. Perhaps I will have news of an expected heir to Pemberley, if God is generous. Perhaps is a word of many possibilities.

Father, at long last I understand how life must have been for you after Mother died. How did you go on for so long without a confidant? I can do so no longer. I can no longer be alone. I hope you will be happy for me, Father, and I pray that I have not disappointed you with my choice. I wish you were still here so that I could gain your blessing. Most of all, I want to find peace and rest on this the day of the Saviour's birth.

Until next time, whenever that may be, I remain your loving son,

Fitzwilliam

Darcy reread the letter, sealed and addressed it, then laid it on the desk. A few minutes later, he picked it up again and stood in front of the fireplace in deep contemplation. He ran his fingers over the dried ink that spelled out his father's name. Then he did what he had done with all the letters he had written to his deceased father. He tossed it into the flames ... and walked away.

Darcy was the first down for breakfast. He had nearly finished when Bingley bounded into the room.

"Happy Christmas, Darcy!"

"Happy Christmas, my friend. You appear to be in decidedly good humour this morning."

"It is a beautiful day, and I look forward to attending church."

"I have no doubt why," Darcy teased. "I hope the others appear soon. You may be late, but I shall not be."

"You will go with the Bennets back to Longbourn?"

"Yes, and spend the afternoon there"

"I hope you have a pleasant time."

"You wish you were gong in my place; admit it man!"

"And miss spending the day with my family? No, well, yes, I am a bit envious."

"If you ceased dallying around ..."

"Darcy, all in good time. You just concentrate on getting yourself to the altar, and I will do the same for myself."

"I still do not understand why you are waiting." Bingley refused to take the hint. "You are not going to tell me, are you?"

Bingley laughed. "Fine! I am waiting until after your marriage. I have rather enjoyed being able to court Miss Bennet with some degree of privacy. The wedding preparations have served as a distraction for ... certain members of the Bennet household."

Darcy looked at his friend with a new measure of respect; Bingley was more astute than he realised.

Darcy decided to ride to the church for Christmas services and left behind an agitated Bingley. Trust Caroline to be late to church. He met the Bennets and Gardiners at the church door and offered his arm to escort Elizabeth inside.

"The next time we meet in this building will be for our wedding," Darcy whispered as they walked to their pew.

"And when I head again in this direction, I shall be on the arm of my father," Elizabeth whispered back.

"Ah yes, but I will have the pleasure of escorting you in the other."

"Whether it will be a pleasure or a punishment is yet to be determined."

"If marriage to a woman such as you is a punishment, then I am a very lucky man."

"You have yet to see me at my worst. I am a fright when I first wake."

"I most definitely look forward to testing that assertion."

Elizabeth blushed and decided in the name of all things holy to desist with the present course of their conversation. When they were safely seated, she pulled out her prayer book.

"Did you bring yours?"

Darcy opened his coat and took out his well-worn copy.

"It is good to see you so well prepared."

"I try."

"Shhhh, it is time be quiet."

After exchanging best wishes of the day, the Netherfield party returned home and Darcy accompanied the Bennets back to Longbourn. The Gardiner children were eager to open their presents, and after some good-humoured stalling by the adults, the young ones were at last given their gifts.

Darcy also had brought gifts for his new family: a brooch for each of Elizabeth's sisters, a necklace for Mrs. Bennet that sent her into raptures, books for Mr. Bennet. To Mr. Gardiner he gave some fishing gear, and to Mrs. Gardiner an exquisite shawl. He had even remembered to bring toys for the Gardiner children.

The last gift he presented was Elizabeth's and he watched as she opened a worn and faded box to reveal a pearl necklace that had belonged to his mother. Her eyes shone with gratitude and unshed tears; she knew he had given her something very special to him.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam! Thank you," she said softly.

He smiled at her earnest delight. He had many memories of his mother wearing the necklace, and he always knew that someday the pearls would grace the neck of his wife. He had intended them as a wedding gift, but something had compelled him to give them to her today.

"When we are alone, you must tell me about these. I am certain there is a story," Elizabeth whispered.

"How did you know?"

"The box is not new and shows the sign of frequent handling."

"You are correct; they were my mother's and my grandmother's before her. I will tell you more. Later."

"Lizzy, show us what you have!" demanded Mrs. Bennet.

"Allow me," Darcy said as he put the pearls around Elizabeth's neck.

"You see, Mr. Bennet! It is just as I said. What fine jewels Lizzy will have."

Darcy chose to ignore Mrs. Bennet's indiscreet remark, dwelling instead on the joy he felt from giving each of his gifts, and in particular his bride's heartfelt appreciation of his mother's heirloom. Elizabeth chose that moment to give her gift to him.

"I am almost afraid to give you this, after yours to me."

"Nonsense. May I open it now?"

"Please do, before my courage falters."

Darcy unwrapped the parcel to find several men's handkerchiefs that Elizabeth had monogrammed, each one with a different design. The first had a simple D, the second an F and the third an interlocking F and E.

"I took the liberty of embroidering one with our initials. I hope it was not too presumptuous."

"In five days we will be man and wife; of course, I do not mind. Thank you; these are lovely."

"I picked out a more masculine motif for you. I thought it suited you."

"That was very thoughtful – an admirable quality in a woman." His smile vanquished any doubts of the suitability of her gift.

Darcy did not stay very late at Longbourn. He intended to ride his horse back to Netherfield and wanted to leave before he lost the light. Elizabeth walked him out.

"I had a pleasant time. Please thank your father again for inviting me."

"I doubt you ever experienced anything quite like Christmas at Longbourn."

"No, Pemberley has always been rather subdued. I think the lack of a large family party might best account for it. In a few years, God willing, we will have children of our own to spoil."

"And to add noise. Thank you again for the pearls. They are exquisite."

"Wear them for our wedding."

"I can think of nothing more appropriate. Now, please be careful on your ride to Netherfield. It would not do for the bridegroom to get lost so soon before his nuptials."

Seeing that they were truly alone, Darcy kissed Elizabeth.

"Goodnight, Elizabeth. I will call again tomorrow, and hopefully Bingley will join me."

"Jane will like that. Goodnight, Fitzwilliam."

Two days before the wedding, Elizabeth swept into her father's book room and leaned against the door she closed behind her. Mr. Bennet was entertained by the flustered look on her face.

"Wedding plans too much for you today? Has your mother come up with yet another ancillary detail in need of immediate attention lest the ceremony be cancelled?"

Elizabeth answered him with a wry smile. "Indeed, sir, I have just discovered that there is an acute shortage of blue ribbon to complete the already overly elaborate decorations in the church. Mama is convinced Mr. Darcy will be most displeased if she does not procure the desired final adornment."

"I doubt your Mr. Darcy will care one jot about the decorations, if he notices them at all."

"True enough." Elizabeth sat down on the sofa opposite her father. "As much as I look forward to the end of the hectic schedule my mother has set up to the very day of my wedding, I believe I shall come to miss the ... activity of my sisters and mother once I am settled into my new residence."

"And I shall miss your good sense. You are leaving me with your younger sisters, three of the silliest girls in the country, and only Jane to apply to for intelligent conversation – and I fear that she will not be with me much longer, either."

Elizabeth reached for her father's hand. "Poor Papa, how you shall suffer!"

"It is my own doing," he sighed. "Perhaps I should make more of an effort with Mary. Of my three youngest offspring, she seems to possess the most redeeming qualities."

"I shall miss you," Elizabeth said softly, and kissed her father's cheek.

For a moment, tears welled up in the eyes of both. She had always enjoyed a special relationship with her father, and had spent many hours with him and his beloved books – reading, talking, listening, learning. To him she owed the quality of her education and the sharpening of her intellect. They had debated the merits of authors and laughed at the follies of their neighbours. But now that time was at an end.

Mr. Bennet composed himself with a sigh, released his favourite's hand and turned back to his book. For several minutes, Elizabeth watched him in silence, lost in thought.

"Does something trouble you, my dear?"

Startled, Elizabeth blushed and lowered her eyes. "Not exactly troubles me."

"Something has captured your attention. Are you regretting your choice of life partner? One word from you and I shall not hesitate to speak to Mr. Darcy."

"No, I have no regrets, but much to think upon. Some questions about marriage weigh heavily."

Mr. Bennet squirmed in his seat.

"Has something your mother said frightened you?"

Elizabeth was momentarily confused. Once she realised what he was implying, she began to laugh.

"You mistake my meaning. Mama has taken time to inform me of some of my more intimate duties; that is not what troubles me."

"I am afraid I have no idea what you are talking about."

Elizabeth paused, then continued, "You know that my marriage is not a love match. I respect and admire Mr. Darcy, but I do not love him. I have developed deep affection for him since our engagement, but that is all. I believe he feels the same. I know that matches such as ours are common in his social sphere, but I wish to find fulfilment in my marriage, beyond even being merely a mother to his children. What must I do to maintain my husband's regard and be a true partner to him in our life together?"

Mr. Bennet steepled his fingers and contemplated his daughter's words. "My dear child, a love match is no guarantee of success in matrimony, and I daresay even some who marry entirely for the purpose of uniting great estates surprise themselves with their felicity. It is not the presence or absence of love that defines them; it is how well each can revere and appreciate the other over a lifetime." A look of something very much like regret flitted over his face.

"You told me before I consented to your betrothal that Mr. Darcy had never been anything but respectful toward you and that you got along well together. Can I assume this still holds true? Have you learned anything about his character to cause you uneasiness?

"Not at all," Elizabeth replied, "quite the opposite. Each encounter seems to support my opinion that we are well matched in outlook and temperament. I am unhappy that most of his family is opposed to the match, but Mr. Darcy has assured me that is of little concern to him."

"Yes, I agree, it seems to be the case. It also tells me that creating his own family is important to him and something that he will not jeopardize lightly. He has no immediate family, am I correct?"

"None closer than his aunts, uncle, and cousins, since the death of his parents and sister. His current heir is the grandson of his great-uncle."

"Ah, I begin to understand his desire to marry quickly."

"He has admitted as much. And I will admit to you, that I am uneasy about my ability to assume the role of mistress of Pemberley. It is a very great estate."

"Nonsense, child. I daresay Mr. Darcy is a better judge of your suitability. He would not have offered for you had he significant reservations on that point." Mr. Bennet looked closely at his daughter and saw that she was not yet convinced. "Elizabeth, you are an intelligent woman and I believe absolutely that you can accomplish whatever you put your mind to. Mr. Darcy most certainly wishes for you to succeed, and will undoubtedly provide you with any instruction and guidance that you might require. You must not lose faith in your courage or your confidence. They are two of your finest qualities."

"Thank you." Elizabeth smiled ruefully. "I must say that I am mortified to realise that I am having a fit of nerves that even Mama would envy."

Mr. Bennet laughed. "The longer I am acquainted with Mr. Darcy, the more I believe that in essentials, you and he are indeed well-matched. That is a good and enviable foundation on which to build a life together.

"Make no mistake, momentous change is ahead. A new life it most certainly will be. You are too intelligent to imagine that your marriage will be always without conflict, without those small and large bumps in the road that make life both unpredictable and exhilarating. But if you and your husband are to be true companions in life, you must dedicate yourselves to the marriage; you must choose to walk together in honour and mutual regard, providing support and comfort in difficult times. The only alternative is to walk apart, living common but separate lives. I know you will make the right choice."

"I shall try, if for no other reason than to justify your faith in me."

"I should be happier if you justified your faith in yourself. But have pity on your poor father and do not forget me."

"I could never forget my family."

"Your family will be your husband, Elizabeth. Your loyalty must belong to him, first and foremost. Do not deceive yourself; you will leave your life in Hertfordshire far behind and become mistress of Pemberley and a great lady of society ... and I am prodigiously proud of you."

The night before her wedding, Elizabeth lay awake, staring at the ceiling of her bedroom. It was very late, and the rest of the house was asleep. She had spoken once more with her mother and her aunt, received their sometimes-conflicting last advice, and then retired to her chambers. She and Jane then spent a long time talking, knowing that this was their final night together.

"Are you happy, Lizzy?"

"Yes, I believe I am."

"I will miss you. I cannot believe the time has come for one of us to leave."

"Dear Jane, I doubt very much that you will be at Longbourn this time next year. Mr. Bingley is quite evidently devoted to you." Jane blushed. "Tell me honestly, do you love him?"

"With all my heart."

"Then all will be well. I am content to know that you, the most beautiful of form and face, will marry the man of her dreams."

"He still must ask," Jane said demurely.

"He will. And soon."

"And you? Is Mr. Darcy the man of your dreams?"

Elizabeth looked down in her lap and was silent for several moments. "I could not have dreamed of a better match," she finally said without lifting her head.

"You are evading the question. Is he the man you dreamt of marrying?"

"I think he is. I certainly hope so since I am marrying him in the morning."

"Do be serious. I have never before questioned your judgment. " Jane raised her hand to forestall a protest from her sister. "We are not so poor, you know, or with so few prospects, that you must sacrifice every better feeling to worldly advantage."

"Jane, I ..."

Once again Jane stopped her. "I know what it is to love," here Jane blushed, but bravely continued, "and because of that love, I want to spend my life as Mr. Bingley's wife. But you have told me that your marriage will be more of the intellect than the heart. I must know, you must assure me, that you truly believe you will find happiness with Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth might have laughed to see her sister far more nervous on the eve of a wedding than the bride, had she not perceived the real concern beneath Jane's agitation. She hastened to give Jane the assurances her sister sought, reiterating all the reasons she believed it was a good and proper match, and – when Jane still seemed unsatisfied – admitting that her affection for Mr. Darcy had grown during the weeks of their engagement. What she could not admit, even to Jane, were the sensations she felt when Darcy kissed her; the mere thought caused her to become fascinated by an errant thread in her bedclothes, thankful that the dim candlelight masked the colour rising to her cheeks.

Jane gently lifted Elizabeth's chin and looked into her sister's eyes; she saw what Elizabeth could not yet see.

"Answer me honestly. Do you love him?"

"I ... I do not know."

Still holding her younger sister's gaze, Jane spoke with unusual deliberation. "Elizabeth, when you know, tell him."

They settled under the covers and Jane quickly fell asleep. Elizabeth was less fortunate, her mind unsettled. Her sister rarely insisted that she do anything; the strength and emotion behind Jane's request affected her greatly. Was she falling in love with Fitzwilliam? If she were, could she then be happy in marriage to a man who might never love her? Would Fitzwilliam welcome her love? And if he did not ...?

Her mind would not allow her slumber, but she knew she needed rest. She had felt ill that evening, the thought of leaving all she knew very nearly overwhelming. She slipped out of bed, wrapped her robe around herself for warmth, and sat by the window. Frost had covered the edges of the panes, but she was able to see well enough though the central portions. She would miss the old estate, but she also admitted that she was excited. What an adventure was before her! There was a whole world beyond Hertfordshire and the little portion of Town she had seen, and tomorrow the door to that world, and a whole new life, would be opened for her. Her guide would be her friend – her husband – and there was no one she would rather have lead her than Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Chapter Seven

Posted on 2009-10-23

Not ten weeks ago, Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn and Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley were entirely ignorant of the existence of the other. Now, three days before the start of a new year, a bride walked down the aisle of her parish church to stand with her groom.

Bingley and Jane were in their places as bridesmaid and groomsman. The eyes of the congregation, fixed upon the bridal pair, betrayed more, perhaps, than their owners intended – triumph, love, envy, approval, regret, hope.

" ...I, Elizabeth, take thee, Fitzwilliam, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to ... to love," Elizabeth nearly faltered as an odd feeling overcame her. She had no time to consider it, so continued, "cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my troth."

When Darcy slipped the wedding ring on her finger, Elizabeth was amazed at the finality of it. Her fate was sealed; she felt bonded to Darcy in a strange, new, everlasting way. She looked from their joined hands to his face. She saw him blink in surprise, and wondered what it was he saw on her features that unsettled him. The service continued, and their attention was drawn back to the words of the minister. The blessing was announced. It was done. Mr. and Mrs. Darcy found themselves accepting congratulations from family and friends.

Darcy had little family present: only Lady Victoria, her eldest son Michael Arnold, his wife Helen, and her youngest son, Joseph. None of the other family had condescended to attend. Darcy was disappointed but not surprised that his cousin, Colonel Andrew Fitzwilliam, was absent. Since the death of Georgiana, they had not seen each other much. The Colonel had his duties, and the one person who had kept them close was now gone. Darcy was sure the Earl had made it abundantly clear that he would not approve of his second born's attendance at an event of which he so vehemently disapproved. If Andrew did not defy his father's wishes, neither would his siblings. Darcy had not bothered to extend invitations to his more distant relations, none of whom he had seen since his father's death five years prior.

Elizabeth's family contingent was considerably larger: her parents and sisters, the Gardiners and their children, the Philipses, plus a few close friends from the neighbourhood, but only a very few.

"Mrs. Darcy, we should remove to Longbourn," her husband said.

"It will be some time before I become accustomed to hearing myself called that. If I do not immediately respond, please do not automatically assume that I am ignoring you."

Darcy laughed. "Come, wife, our wedding breakfast awaits. You know we cannot remain long if we are to make London tonight, and I for one am famished."

Mrs. Bennet always kept an excellent table, and the breakfast was, by everyone's account, superb. Darcy was indeed intent on leaving early and had so informed Mr. Bennet.

As loath as he was to have his Lizzy leave, Mr. Bennet recognised good sense when he saw it – and that Elizabeth was no longer his.

Thus, all too soon for everyone except the bridegroom, the couple made their goodbyes. Darcy led his wife towards his aunt and cousins.

"Thank you so much for coming."

"Of course, Darcy. It was a lovely wedding and breakfast. Mrs. Darcy, I will be certain to give my compliments to your mother."

"We will call on you before we travel to Derbyshire," Darcy told them. He spoke with his cousins while Elizabeth had a brief word with her new aunt.

"When should we expect you at Pemberley, your ladyship?"

"I shall give you a few weeks to acquaint yourself with the house. Perhaps some time in February? We can arrange a date before you travel to Derbyshire."

"I confess I am eager for your advice on the season."

"And your presentation at court. Fear not, we will have sufficient time to prepare you for that."

Darcy returned his attention to Elizabeth. "It is time to take leave of your family."

Elizabeth's farewells to Jane and her father were the most difficult. It was unimaginable that she would not be seeing them every day.

"Oh, Father, do not be sad."

The master of Longbourn's eyes had grown misty as he embraced his second-born. "You must allow an old man to be sentimental on the day of his daughter's wedding."

"Promise you will answer my letters?"

"I can safely say that I might."

Elizabeth laughed. "I suppose I must be content with that." Leaning close so that no one else could hear, she said, "When I am settled, I shall invite you to come to us. It may not be until after the season, but I do hope to see you at Pemberley before the days of summer are completed."

"I understand, my child," he smiled, glancing quickly at his wife. "All in good time."

With one last, quick hug, Elizabeth released her father and went to Jane. Enfolded in each other's arms, neither wanted to be the one to let loose. Finally, Elizabeth realised they could not maintain their positions any longer and moved slightly away, but only enough to look at Jane's face.

"I will see you again soon."

"I know, Lizzy. But I feel so ..."

"Yes, I understand. I will miss you, too."

"You will write?"

"On that you may depend! I shall rely on you to keep me abreast of all the news. Of a certain anticipated event, I demand an express at the earliest possible moment," Elizabeth said with a smug look on her face, after a glimpse at Mr. Bingley.

"If."

"When, Jane, when."

"Mr. Darcy has no idea what an incorrigible woman he has married."

"Do not be so quick to assume, Miss Bennet," came the reply in a decidedly masculine voice.

"Take good care of my sister, sir."

Darcy bowed to Jane, "You have my word." He turned to Elizabeth, "Are you ready?"

She nodded, afraid to speak lest the tears that threatened return.

Both were soon settled in the carriage. Elizabeth looked back, waving to her family and friends, as the horses slowly drew her away from her old life and into her new.

As soon as Longbourn was out of sight, Darcy moved to sit next to Elizabeth. He noticed that she was chilled, carefully covered them both with a rug, then pulled her close. "Are you warmer now?"

"Much, thank you." She snuggled against his shoulder.

Darcy kissed Elizabeth's hair. She was content to sit as she was, and Darcy seemed so inclined as well. After they had travelled a mile or two, she felt a little conversation would keep her from failing asleep. She asked him about the service.

"It was a little different from any other wedding I have attended."

"Yes, since this time, you were the one being married."

Elizabeth felt him smile. "That did make it a novel experience. Truthfully, I do not remember much of what was said."

"I certainly hope you remember your vows!"

"Of course, how could I forget? I doubt you will allow my memory to be faulty in that regard."

"You may count on that, Fitzwilliam."

"And you, Mrs. Darcy, what do you recall?"

"As little as you, I confess."

But that was not entirely true. She did recall one thing with absolute clarity: her reaction to her vows. She had not yet had time to contemplate its meaning. Soon though, she would need to understand what had happened. For now, she needed to talk to her husband about the forthcoming evening. It would not be a comfortable conversation, but not as painful as she felt. Elizabeth had awakened that morning to proof that even the best plans go awry.

Darcy continued, "Then I shall be allowed to claim ignorance, and you will not be able to refute it." Elizabeth forced a laugh. "Elizabeth, have I said something to offend you?"

"Not at all. My mind was wandering."

"I see." Darcy paused. "Will you tell me?"

Elizabeth sighed. It had to be done. But she couldn't look him in the face.

"Fitzwilliam, I ... I don't know how to tell you." She began to fidget. "I am concerned that you will be disappointed ..."

Darcy stiffened and sat upright, forcing Elizabeth to do the same.

"What is it?"

"When I awoke this morning ... Fitzwilliam, how knowledgeable are you in the ways of a woman?"

"I know that a woman ..." Comprehension dawned. "Are you trying to tell me that your courses have begun?"

Elizabeth was relieved that he had so easily understood her meaning.

"This morning. It was not expected. It came very early for me. I assume the stress of the wedding ... If you still wish ..."

"I thought women usually planned their wedding dates so that this would not occur. I am only surprised, that is all."

He was being gallant, but she could see that he was disappointed. Truth be told, so was she. "No more surprised than I. A rather inauspicious start to our married life. Fitzwilliam, I ..."

He gently placed a finger to her lips. "Elizabeth, hush. It was my desire that we marry so quickly. We did not expect that it would begin this way, but nature evidently had other ideas. We have a lifetime ahead of us. If this is the worst we ever face, we would count ourselves lucky. Come, wife, let us be philosophical and consider the bright side."

"There is a bright side?"

"We did marry very soon after we met. We both know that nothing improper occurred between us, but I suspect there will be speculation that we were forced into this marriage. A lack of an heir in less than nine months will stifle such gossip."

Elizabeth sighed. "I suppose that is something, although it is the only good I can see. I have been anticipating our wedding night since you proposed. And kissed me."

Darcy's expression became more serious. He tucked a stray curl behind Elizabeth's ear, then leaned in and kissed her.

"I cannot promise that an heir will not appear in nine months," he said softly, "however, I intend to make every effort to see that it comes about, and I certainly have no plans of spending my wedding night in my own bed. May I come to you tonight?"

Elizabeth was relieved he was so understanding. "I have no wish to be alone tonight, either. You may come to me, my husband."

She gave him a shy smile and tucked her head under his chin. Darcy sighed and pulled his wife more firmly to his chest. Safe within his embrace, she closed her eyes and thought of the pleasure his touch brought. With that delicious sensation in mind, Elizabeth Darcy fell asleep.

The light was almost gone when the carriage arrived at the Darcy townhouse. The servants had turned out in their finest to welcome their new mistress. After a few words of thanks, Darcy took Elizabeth to her chambers to refresh and change for dinner.

Elizabeth's new maid was waiting for her. The choice of an appropriate attendant had caused a small disagreement between Elizabeth and Darcy. She wanted one of the young servants from Longbourn as her lady's maid, more as a comfortable reminder of her old life than anything else, but Darcy was adamant that his wife have a French maid, as was fashionable. Each understood the other's reasoning, but eventually Elizabeth came to appreciate that a country servant inexperienced in the ways of society would find it difficult to fulfil the demands of the position; she conceded. Mrs. Thomas selected a suitable young woman, who understood that the post was provisional, pending Mrs. Darcy's approval.

Young Marie was nervous, Elizabeth could tell. No more nervous than I, she thought. Elizabeth spoke French well enough, but she decided to test the woman's English.

"Marie, have you held this type of position before?"

"Oui, Madame. I was the maid for Miss Henrietta Wyatt, daughter of Sir James Wyatt," she replied, with a decided accent.

"Mrs. Thomas told me that you are quite an expert seamstress."

"Oui, Madame. Miss Wyatt regularly wished me to alter her gowns."

Elizabeth studied the choice of gowns Marie had laid out for her. They were all appropriate for evening, which pleased Elizabeth. At least Marie knew that part of her duties.

"I also understand that you have no family in England."

"Non, Madame. I came to this country three years ago after my father died."

"Did you know much English before you came here?"

"Non, Madame. I have learned it since I arrived."

"Marie, you speak exclusively in English, yet you use the French forms of yes and no?"

"Habit, Madame. My former mistress liked me to say 'oui' and 'non.' If you prefer, I will try to remember not to do that."

"Marie, will you please say something to me in French."

"Votre voyage à Londres a-t-il été agréable?"

Elizabeth did not initially respond, but creased her brow in concentration. "Please say something else."

"Je vous propose la robe bleue. La couleur vous va très bien."

"Thank you, please resume in English."

"Perhaps the green gown, Madame?"

"Le voyage en voiture s'est achevé sans incidents."

Marie was surprised at her response.

"I did not realise that you understood me before, Madame. I thought you might just want to hear me say something in French."

"Yes, but only to determine if I could understand you. I have had few opportunities to use my French in conversation and was unsure of myself. Now that I know I can understand you, I ask that you please speak to me in English. However, if I address you in French, you are to answer me thus. There are times when I may wish to say something in front of another servant that I do not wish them to understand."

"Oui ... Yes, Madame. I will remember."

"Good, then I will wear the blue gown, as you suggested. Oh, Marie, I am in need of certain ... other items. They were sent ahead in my trunks which you have already unpacked."

The maid raised an eyebrow, but said nothing and retrieved the desired things. Marie helped her undress, bathe, and don her garments. Next the maid was asked to do her hair. Elizabeth was curious what she would do.

"Do you wish me to style your hair the way it was, or do you wish something else?"

"For tonight, the same."

Elizabeth was satisfied with the quick work the maid made of her hair. When she was ready, she sent Marie to inform her husband's man that the mistress was ready to go downstairs. Darcy came at once to escort her to dinner.

The cook had gone to special lengths for the meal. Elizabeth was very appreciative of the efforts and asked that her thanks be extended to the cook and all who had prepared the meal. She noticed that Darcy appeared to approve of her decision to praise the servants.

"You have a very efficient staff, Fitzwilliam. They should be commended."

"The fact that you chose to recognise their efforts does please me, and it will please them, as well. If you persist in this course, you will have a very loyal staff at your disposal."

"It is obvious that they are loyal to you. I, on the other hand, have yet to earn their respect. I believe kindness and civility can go a long way towards that goal."

"Hence, I am pleased. Now that the meal is over, shall we retire to the drawing room? Or would you prefer the music room, or perhaps the library?"

"The library, if you please. However, if you wish for me to play for you, I will oblige."

Darcy stood and offered his hand to assist Elizabeth.

"Not tonight." He pulled her up and tucked her arm into his. "Come, then."

The couple spent a companionable hour in the library. Darcy showed Elizabeth how the volumes were organized and pointed out some of his favourites. They discussed a few of the books they had both read and Elizabeth chose a few to take to her rooms.

It was still fairly early when Darcy suggested they retire for the evening.

"I admit that I am tired. It has been a long day, and we did spend several hours in the carriage. You dozed, but I did not," he confessed.

They walked up the stairs and stopped at Elizabeth's door.

"Come to me in half an hour," she said, and stepped over the threshold. Darcy watched her look out at him as she closed the door. He stood for a moment, shook his head, then walked to his own room.

Marie was waiting and had laid out a choice of nightgowns: Elizabeth's most luxurious silk one and a more serviceable, warmer, cotton one. As much as she longed to don the silk garment, Elizabeth thought it would be unfair to torment her very understanding husband. She would save that surprise for several nights later.

"This one tonight, Marie. I will wear the other later in the week."

"As you wish, Madame. May I assist you?"

The servant did her job efficiently and then took down Elizabeth's hair to brush it out.

"Shall I leave it loose or plait it?"

"Loose, please. Thank you, Marie. You may go now. I will ring when I am ready for you in the morning."

The maid curtsied, said "Goodnight, Mrs. Darcy," and left the room.

Elizabeth was alone at last, but not for long. A few minutes later, she heard a knock on the door that connected her chambers with her husband's.

"Come in, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy was dressed in what Elizabeth assumed was a nightshirt under his robe. He carried a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

"I thought we might make a small toast to the day of our marriage before going to sleep."

"Thank you, Fitzwilliam. That is a delightful idea."

He sat near her and poured each a glass.

"To the marriage of true minds. To you, Elizabeth, and to this day. Thank you for becoming my wife."

Elizabeth was profoundly moved. She looked at him, knowing not what to say, as an unexpected feeling of happiness and contentment bubbled up within her. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam."

They sat in companionable silence, staring into the flames, until at last Darcy spoke.

"Elizabeth, if you prefer that I return to my room, just ask and I will go."

"No, Fitzwilliam, I would like you to be with me. That is, if you still wish it."

Darcy gently took Elizabeth's hand and looked into her eyes. "Yes, I do."

They sat quietly holding hands for some time. Elizabeth felt herself becoming drowsy under the hypnotic spell of the dancing light of the fire and the effects of the drink. She shook her head and looked at her husband; his grip had relaxed and his chin had dropped along with his eyelids. She squeezed his hand and softly said his name.

"Fitzwilliam. Fitzwilliam. Should we not go to bed now?"

His eyes fluttered open, and he stretched his arms above his head.

"Forgive me for falling asleep, Elizabeth. It would be wise to sleep in the bed rather than these chairs. Not to mention much warmer in another few hours."

They walked to the bed. Darcy took off his robe. Elizabeth saw that he did, in fact, have on a nightshirt. And only a nightshirt. She looked at his bare legs and swallowed.

"Am I frightening you, my dear?"

"What?"

"Elizabeth, you are staring."

"Oh, I, uhm ..." She hurriedly removed her robe and nearly dove under the covers.

"You are afraid of me." Elizabeth heard the amusement in his voice. He lay on the bed and pulled the covers over himself. They were together in the bed, but their bodies were not touching.

Elizabeth knew that this was decidedly not how her wedding night should have progressed. What would her mother think of her now? Her appreciation of the absurd exerted itself, and she had to stop herself from laughing out loud. She might have controlled herself had she not felt her husband start to shake. He was also trying not to laugh. Finally, neither could hold in their mirth, and they burst out laughing together.

"At least I know you find this as humorous as I do."

"Pathetic might be a more appropriate term," Elizabeth quipped

Darcy rolled onto his side facing his bride. "Turn on your side facing away from me, and move back towards me. I would like to fall asleep holding you." Elizabeth obeyed, and he put his arm over her waist. "This is much better." Darcy kissed her hair. "Goodnight, Elizabeth."

"Goodnight, Fitzwilliam."

Elizabeth awoke a few hours later. It was the unfamiliar sensation of an arm around her that had roused her – well that, plus the soft snoring of her husband. She felt a great need to look at the man sharing her bed. Not wishing to lose the exquisite feel of his touch, she carefully turned towards him until she was lying on her side, looking him fully in the face.

By the dim light of the dying fire, she could just make out his features. He looked so different asleep, so much younger, so much more relaxed. She had not fully comprehended how very young Darcy had been when he inherited a vast estate to rule and a young sister to rear until he told her that he was but two-and- twenty at the time his father died, not much older than she was now. His demeanour often showed the weight of that burden.

Of all the people he could have chosen, it was she to whom he would reveal himself. She alone would see all sides of the man: the dutiful master of Pemberley, the loyal friend, the gentleman, the lonely man, the husband, and – eventually – the father. How had she not seen this so clearly before? As his wife, it was now her duty to see that his loneliness was a thing of the past. Had she not vowed that very thing to him before God and their families just that morning?

I, Elizabeth, take thee, Fitzwilliam, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I pledge thee my troth."

After she had accepted Darcy's proposal, Elizabeth had spent many hours contemplating the vows she would make to him. For her, they were a sacred covenant between her and her mate. She had analysed the familiar phrases word by word, to determine if, in good conscience, she could give each promise to him. There was only one word that gave her pause, one word she wondered if she could repeat with sincerity: love. Both Jane and her father, in his own way, had asked if she loved Darcy. She had answered both of them in the negative. She did not love him as she understood the romantic meaning of the word.

But during her contemplations, Elizabeth considered that there were many forms of love. She loved her parents and sisters. She loved her uncles and aunts. She loved her cousins. She loved her – now former – home, Longbourn. She loved to laugh.

Darcy had become, she realised, a friend whom she loved as surely as she loved her other close friends.

And so she had been at peace. She could recite her vows with honour and integrity. That was why she had been so surprised to stumble over that very word "love" when the time came to vow it. She had convinced herself that it meant one thing; as she lay in bed facing her husband, she was astonished to find that she meant something else. The love she actually vowed to give was not what she had expected to give.

What love did she mean? She gasped in surprise. When had it happened? Had standing at the altar before God and witnesses unleashed what was already there?

"I love you, Fitzwilliam," she whispered almost without sound, almost as a test; and with perfect clarity, she understood that she meant it. Not as an altruistic proclamation of love for her fellow man; she loved him in the way a woman should love only her husband.

Elizabeth smiled. Affection, indeed! She wanted to stroke her husband's face with her hand, capture his lips with her own, tell him of her devotion and love.

Before she acted upon the impulse, she stopped. It was too soon – for her and for him. She needed to meditate on this change in her feeling before she was ready to tell Fitzwilliam. And would he welcome this from her? He had never once intimated that he loved her. Thus, despite Jane's plea to tell him, Elizabeth let him sleep. This was not the time for romantic declarations. He had not asked for her love; for now, that must be her guide.

Before she could continue her thoughts, Darcy stirred and tried to pull her closer to him. He must have sensed that they did not fit together as before, and his eyes flickered open.

"You are awake," he murmured, "roll over." Elizabeth did as she was bid. "Hmm, better. Go back ... to ... sleep ..."

A few moments later she heard him start to lightly snore again. Suppressing the urge to giggle, Elizabeth covered his hand with hers. It felt right that way. She relished his touch and considered how good it was that she was now his. With that, she fell asleep.