An Arranged Marriage

Chapter 11

The next day I wrote to Mrs. Gardiner before breakfast. Now that Colonel Fitzwilliam had revealed some of Mr. Darcy's actions in regard to Lydia and Mr. Wickham, it was impossible not to know every detail, for to live in ignorance of any part of it was out of the question. I explained to my aunt what the colonel had told me and assured her since the secret was now revealed, she would not break any promise by telling me the details as she knew them.

"You may readily comprehend," I wrote, "what my curiosity must be to know how a person unconnected with any of us at that time, and, comparatively speaking, a stranger to our family, should have been amongst you at such a time. Pray write instantly, and let me understand exactly how it all came about."

I had the satisfaction of receiving an answer to my letter within a week. Indeed, my aunt appeared relieved to unburden herself from the secrecy imposed upon her. She wrote me the explicit story of how at Lambton, Mr. Darcy had first learned from her of Lydia's elopement. He had come to call upon the Gardiners at the inn only a short while after they had just read the letter from me, entreating them to come to Longbourn and assist our family in locating the fleeing couple. My uncle had left the inn to secure their passage on the first available coach, and Mr. Darcy had discovered my aunt alone in a moment of emotion; he had been so kind, so solicitous in his sympathy that she revealed the entire tale to him.

Unbeknownst to the Gardiners, Mr. Darcy left for London the very next day and scouted out the location of Mr. Wickham and Lydia before calling upon my uncle. He insisted upon bearing the entire cost of Lydia's marriage settlement.

'The motive professed was his conviction of its being owing to himself that Wickham's worthlessness had not been so well known as to make it impossible for any young woman of character to love or confide in him. He generously imputed the whole to his mistaken pride, and confessed that he had before thought it beneath him to lay his private actions open to the world. His character was to speak for itself. He called it, therefore, his duty to step forward, and endeavour to remedy an evil which had been brought on by himself. If he had another motive, I am sure it would never disgrace him.

'Mr. Darcy and your uncle battled it together for a long time, but our visitor was very obstinate. I fancy, Lizzy, that obstinacy is the real defect of his character after all.'

"Oh yes, Aunt, fancy that, indeed!" I cried aloud, rolling my eyes.

'Nothing was to be done that he did not do himself, and at last your uncle was forced to yield, and instead of being allowed to be of use to his niece, was forced to put up with only having the probable credit of it. In spite of all this, my dear Lizzy, you may rest perfectly assured that your uncle would never have yielded, if we had not given him credit for another interest in the affair. I thought him very sly; he hardly ever mentioned your name, but slyness seems the fashion.'

Mrs. Gardiner wrote that it also gave my uncle pleasure to no longer keep Mr. Darcy's actions secret from me, but she cautioned me not to tell my family without his permission, as he had been adamant that no one was to know.

The contents of the letter threw me into a flutter of spirits in which it was difficult to determine whether pleasure or pain bore the greatest share. I had not yet adjusted to the shock of Mr. Darcy's involvement in Lydia's marriage before I received my aunt's correspondence. Her further revelations only deepened my utter surprise. Not only had Mr. Darcy acted in a noble, selfless manner, but if my aunt and uncle's suspicions were correct, he might possibly have done so not only for my poor sister's sake, but for mine.

Could this be true? And if so, why had he not told me? Why had he not used such fine example of his character to persuade me to marry him?

"Elizabeth," Georgiana said, "will you join Richard and me in our inspection of Pemberley's back hall?"

Her question and presence before me startled my reverie. I had wandered to a small bench set in a copse not far from the path that led from Pemberley's great lawn to the woods. So intent had I been upon my reading and my own thoughts, I had not even heard the couple's approach.

I rose, quickly folded the letter and slipped it into my pocket. I was glad to see that the disagreement between them had at last been resolved and I assumed that Colonel Fitzwilliam had seen to it, for they both appeared in good spirits, a definite change from their terse remarks to each other during the past week.

"I presume this inspection has to do with the harvest ball, am I correct?" I asked.

"You are," Georgiana said. "At the rear of the house is a huge open hall, quite adequate to house our tenants and their families. We have always held the harvest ball there so that our guests will not feel out of place. Years ago, my father said they would be somewhat intimidated by Pemberley's grand ballroom. I have already assigned tasks to many of the servants, as well as planning the decorations, but I wish for your approval of my designs, Elizabeth."

"I am sure whatever you choose will be fine, for you know much more about harvest balls than I do. I confess I have never attended one."

"Did not your father host a celebration at Longbourn at the end of the season?"

"My dear, Longbourn does not compare to Pemberley in size or tenants. Our harvest consisted of a great deal less; although as a child, I do recall the workers threw a party outside around a huge bonfire. My father allowed Jane and me to accompany him once or twice, but he only put in an appearance and drank a tankard of mead with them before returning to the house."

"Then you shall have a novel experience, Mrs. Darcy," the colonel said, "for at Pemberley's harvest ball, the master and his family host the entire evening."

"Oh, yes," Georgiana added, "and there is dancing and singing, more food than can be eaten, and greater amusement than any other night of the year!"

"Indeed!" I remained baffled by the image of Mr. Darcy eating and dancing with his farm workers and their families. Did he not find country society somewhat 'confined and unvarying?' And these people would not even qualify as society!

"This is where I learned to dance," Georgiana announced.

"Now, Georgie," the colonel said, "I happen to know you were instructed in the art by the finest dancing master in London."

"Yes, but that was much later. I had already learned how to dance from the children of our tenants. When I was a child, my father allowed me full reign at the Harvest Balls to mingle and play and dance with the other children. They were some of the happiest nights of my youth."

The colonel and I exchanged smiles before he spoke. "Your youth is hardly spent."

"Do wait until you come out this spring," I added. "You will dance at many a ball and enjoy numerous happy nights, I trust."

Georgiana shrugged. "Perhaps, but I doubt any of them shall compare with the freedom and pleasure of Harvest Balls."

I began to anticipate this ball just from listening to my sister-in-law. "But has your brother never forbidden your dancing, now that you are a young woman?"

She laughed. "Wills shall be at peace. There are no eligible young men for me at such a gathering, Elizabeth. In truth, I rarely remember standing up with boy or man, but rather, I joined the throng of children who danced together at the back of the great hall. None of us truly had partners. As I said, it was more play than real dancing."

"Well, now I take offense because I happen to remember dancing with you, myself," Colonel Fitzwilliam said, "at the last Harvest Ball."

Georgiana stopped and looked up at him with a frown. "We did not dance together, Richard, for I did not attend last year's ball. In fact, Wills put in an appearance and then left, himself. It was not a time for dancing."

A shadow covered the colonel's eyes; he took her hand and tucked it inside his arm, patting it as they continued on their way. "Yes, now I remember. Forgive me for even mentioning it, my dear."

I followed them inside the house, saddened that our conversation had turned to an unhappy memory for Georgiana. I had yet to visit this part of the mansion, for it was vast, indeed, and Mrs. Reynolds had not included it in my original tour, possibly because of the sheer time it took to walk back there. I listened as Georgiana began to tell me of its history, glad to see her mood lighten as she talked.

"This was the original Pemberley, built almost one hundred years before the portion in which we now reside."

Although grand enough in appearance, its age was apparent, being much more rustic, indicative of a far earlier time. I could see it would be perfect for a harvest celebration. Indeed, my young sister had already ordered decorations made from stalks of hay, bits of dried corn, and deep, red berries; servants now stood on ladders, hanging them on the walls and placing them in the cut-out alcoves high above. Enormous long tables lined the perimeter of the room, already covered with pristine white cloths. Several maids fashioned garlands of autumnal grasses and dried flowers intertwined with ribbons, while others looped them along the outside of the tables.

"Ah, it looks quite festive already," I declared.

"Yes, it quite puts me in the mood. Shall we dance now, Georgiana?" the colonel said with a laugh.

"Oh, Richard, without music? No, you shall just have to wait until Friday night." She then left us standing in the middle of the hall while she joined the maids and corrected the height of the loops.

"It is good to see her happy," the colonel said.

I wished I knew what had transpired between them to restore their good humour, but I did not ask, for I felt it would be intrusive. "Well, I find myself looking forward to this ball, and I shall enjoy seeing you dance with Georgiana again."

He looked at me closely. "Again?"

"I saw you dance together at Eden Park."

"Indeed? And all this time I thought we had been successful in our indiscretion."

"As far as I know, you were, for I saw none other observe you and I have not told anyone."

"Meaning your husband, I assume. Ah, Mrs. Darcy, keeping secrets from your lord and master already?"

I made a conscious effort not to roll my eyes at that statement. The colonel had no idea! I chose to change the subject. "Colonel Fitzwilliam, since we are now cousins, I would prefer that you address me by my Christian name. Mrs. Darcy sounds quite formal and distant. Will you not call me Elizabeth?"

"I shall be honoured, Elizabeth, if you, in turn, acknowledge that I am Richard. Shall we shake hands on it?"

I laughed and readily agreed, waving to Georgiana when she turned to see our exchange. "I must go and help her if we are to get this hall ready for dancing in less than a week."

"Very well, I shall release you, for I do look forward to dancing with you and with Georgiana once again." There was something wistful about the tone of his voice and so I delayed my leave taking, surprised by his next statement. "It shall most likely be the last time that I do so."

"Why, whatever do you mean? There will be plenty of opportunities for the two of you to dance together once she comes out after Easter. Surely, it will be acceptable, for you are not brother and sister."

He frowned. "Brother and sister? No, indeed, we are not, but I shall be far from England by Easter."

"Richard, where are you going?"

"I do not know at present, but I have put in for an assignment abroad. If Bonaparte continues his present actions against us in Spain, I shall most likely join our forces there; if not, I have asked to be sent anywhere my commander chooses as long as I am not required to remain on these shores."

"I confess I am surprised and I am afraid Georgiana will be heartbroken."

"I ask that you do not tell her now, Elizabeth. She will recover well enough once the parties and balls begin."

"Being one of her guardians, do you not deem it essential that you remain in attendance during that time?"

"I did once, but now that Darce has married such a capable woman, I am much assured that the both of you will do all that is necessary to look after her."

I wished that I felt the same assurance. I dreaded Mr. Darcy's reaction when Georgiana began attracting young suitors. "I fear that your genial manner and outlook shall be sorely missed at such a time, sir. As you know, Mr. Darcy comes close to smothering his sister with protectiveness."

I expected Richard to smile at my exaggeration, but he did not; rather, a pensive, brooding cloud seemed to descend upon his countenance. "You overestimate me, Elizabeth. In actuality, Georgiana will enjoy her coming out much more if I am not present."

Just then the young girl called out, entreating me to join her in looking over the proposed menu for the festivity, and the colonel excused himself to check on the condition of his horse that had recently developed a limp. As I walked across the wide floor, I glanced over my shoulder and watched him depart. I had the strangest feeling a greater reason behind Richard's future leave-taking existed, a reason he was not yet ready to reveal.

~ * ~

That evening when I went to my chamber to dress for dinner, I saw that the post had come. Mamá had written, as well as Jane, but it was the third envelope that caught my attention. My pulse quickened when I recognized the handwriting of Mr. Darcy.

I sat down and attempted to calm my rapid heartbeat. No need existed for my nerves to inflame; it was only a letter and did not appear more than a page. It probably contained little more than a few sentences. I decided to read my family's correspondence first, beginning with Jane's letter. She seemed unusually happy, but I could not concentrate on her words; I found myself having to re-read the same sentences again and again. Instead, my attention insisted upon wandering to the letter that I had lain beneath Mamá's in an attempt to place it in the least order of importance. A lot of good that did - it may as well have been a great big squawking rooster, calling out for my attention! I could not keep my eyes from it.

At last, I rose, took the letter and placed it inside a drawer in my desk. There! I thought, surely I can forget it long enough to read my family's correspondence. I applied myself with diligence anew and made it through the first missive, losing my way only once or twice. I then attempted to read Mamá's post, but her ramblings made little sense and I soon gave it up. Returning to the desk, I opened the drawer and retrieved the letter from London that attracted me like intoxicating nectar. It angered me that my fingers trembled when I attempted to break the seal.

"Stop it, Lizzy!" I said aloud, as I unfolded the single sheet of fine cream-coloured parchment.

Elizabeth,

Progress continues in the matter causing my delay. Our detective successfully followed the man retrieving the blackmail funds, who turned out to possibly be the same "Johnny" you overheard in the garden. He, in turn, led us along the Thames to a house in the lower parts of London owned by none other than Mrs. Younge. She, apparently, is his aunt and both have been apprehended by the authorities. We are now engaged in determining if any other servant in my service may have aided them in this crime. Please know that your knowledge of Johnny has been of invaluable assistance.

Unfortunately, it is highly unlikely I will return to Pemberley in time for the Harvest Ball. Please relay this message to Georgiana.

And now to another matter, of which I hesitate to write, but feel that I must, for I cannot account for the coldness of your manner upon your departure, except to believe that my behaviour of the previous night must have been unwelcome, and for that lapse on my part, I offer my apologies. I would likewise extend my regrets, but in all honesty, I cannot find any such feelings in my heart.

FD

I read the letter through twice, and the last sentence over and over. When I could no longer see it through the mist of tears filling my eyes, I traced its outline with my fingers. Did it mean what I thought it might, that Mr. Darcy did not regret kissing me? "Oh!" I cried aloud and began to sob. I had not known how much I needed to hear those words, what release it caused within me to read that simple phrase.

~ * ~

The day of the Harvest Ball arrived before we knew it. A beautiful Friday in late autumn, the weather crisp but not truly cold, and with a full moon expected that night, the day could not have been more perfect. The morning was filled with last minute tasks for both Georgiana and me, but Mrs. Reynolds suggested that both of us take time for a nap that afternoon in anticipation of the evening ahead. I felt quite certain that Georgiana needed little refreshing, for she was aglow with longing for the ball's beginning. However, we did heed our housekeeper's motherly admonition and retired to our bedchambers for a couple of hours.

Slipping off my shoes, I lay upon the bed, and pulled up a quilt from the bottom to cover my bare feet. I plumped my pillow and in so doing, felt Mr. Darcy's letter beneath it, where I had kept it since the day of its receipt. I took it out once more, read it again, and then held it close to my heart. I had not answered the letter, the reason why I am still unsure of to this day. What could I say? How could I make him understand all that was in my heart when last I saw him? And, in truth, how could I bear to confess my ugly suspicions about Fiona and him? No, I refused to put all that in a letter, and so I did not write.

Sarah, my maid, tapped at the door some two hours later and I bid her entrance, for I was awake. I had not slept at all, but I had remained upon the bed, attempting to rest. The remainder of the afternoon was spent in my bath, coiffing my hair, and donning my dress, a lovely pale green silk. The deeply scooped neckline flattered my bosom and I elected to wear only my garnet cross for enhancement. These were simple folk and I felt no desire to impress them with the black pearl Mr. Darcy had bestowed upon me.

At last, I was ready and I hurried below stairs to find Georgiana and Richard in the drawing room. She was lovely in a pale cream gown, tiny blooms scattered through her golden hair, and a radiant glow upon her countenance.

"Elizabeth, look what Richard has just given me," she cried.

I saw the delicate chain of pearls nestled around her slender throat. "They are beautiful, Georgiana. Well done, Richard."

He beamed at her pleasure. "Pearls are for grown-up ladies, Sprout. See that you remember that."

"Oh, Richard, must you spoil my joy with another reprimand?"

"In your brother's absence, I feel compelled to offer the admonition I feel certain he would tender."

"I am no longer a child, you know." She smiled as she said these words and he bowed in response.

"So I see, my dear. You have grown up before my very eyes."

Through the window I could see carts and wagons approach Pemberley's rear park. I watched as entire families descended: mothers attempted to curtail their boisterous children, fathers straightened their neck cloths and brushed off their coats, all of them apparently excited about the evening awaiting them. The colonel suggested we make our way to the great hall and so we did.

The room was already filled with people and conversation. The musicians tuned their instruments, and servants scurried here and there with their huge platters of food and pitchers of mead, ale and wine. Georgiana immediately waded into the throng and welcomed each person, obviously acquainted with them. Again, I was amazed with what ease she served as princess over this kingdom. She was completely at home with Pemberley's tenants. Colonel Fitzwilliam led me to sit at the center of the head table where Georgiana eventually joined us. A short while later, he stood and tapped his fork against his glass of wine, a signal that quieted the crowd.

"Neighbours and tenants of Pemberley! On behalf of my cousin, Mr. Darcy, I welcome you to this belated harvest ball. He regrets most heartily that he is unable to join you tonight, but he would have me stand in his stead. Miss Darcy and I ask you to raise your glasses in a toast to the new mistress of Pemberley, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy."

"Hear, hear!" The clamor of the crowd was friendly and approving and I smiled and nodded in response.

"Mr. Darcy bade me assure you that even though unforeseen events have caused his extended absence from Pemberley for much of this year, all shall remain as it is. There will be stability. There will be continuity. And you are to be commended for your hard work in once again reaping a successful harvest. I offer a toast to each of you."

"Hear, hear!" the crowd rejoined again, "And to Mr. Darcy."

"Now, eat, drink and dance. Musicians, give us a song!"

There was much cheering and excitement as various couples lined up for the first country dance. So many of the tenants approached me in greeting that I entreated Georgiana to take my place and begin the dance with Richard. It did my heart good to see the happiness upon her face. Her eyes sparkled and a smile graced her countenance for the entire length of the reel, as well as the next, for the colonel led her right back to the floor with the beginning of the following number.

I spent no little time greeting guests and acknowledging their best wishes on my marriage. There were naught but friendly faces among the entire throng as far as I could see, and the only damper to my enjoyment was the thought of how much more wonderful the evening might be if Mr. Darcy stood by my side and if we were married in every sense. I missed him more that night than I ever had before.

Richard asked me to dance the next, a number I thoroughly enjoyed. The dances were much more lively than those conducted at Netherfield or Eden Park with their stiff formality, for these were country folk, after all. I found myself comparing them to the assembly balls held at Meryton, for they were much alike, and I experienced a slight yearning in my heart for those old days now past.

Halfway through the evening, the musicians rested and the principal meal was served. People had nibbled and drank throughout the night, but they now found seats at the tables and partook of the generous bounty Pemberley provided. Laughter and talk filled the room and I rejoiced to see Georgiana's continued smiles. Richard sat between us at the head table and teased her persistently, which she bore quite well.

It was just after dinner that he asked me to dance again. I protested and suggested Georgiana take my place, but she begged off. She wished to gather the children into a circle up front near the door and play a game of "Drop the Handkerchief." And so I accepted the colonel's invitation and we led the next dance, which lasted a good half-hour. By the time the final notes sounded, we found ourselves at the bottom of the line of dancers. I was quite flushed from the exercise, but beamed with the joy of it all. As Richard escorted me from the floor, a commotion broke out across the length of the great room, and a roar of cheering and applause erupted. There was such a company of people blocking my view that I was at a loss to explain its cause. And then I heard Richard's exclamation.

"Why, it's Darcy! He is come after all."

I stood at the end of the long table on a side of the room closest to the servant's entrance, and I was thankful for the sturdiness of the furniture, for I felt an urgent need to lean upon it for support.

Mr. Darcy!

The crowd parted and I could see him there. Surely, it was my heart that suddenly leaped into my throat and threatened to bar all future breathing. I gasped for air and struggled to still my visibly heaving bosom.

Shrugging off his great coat and dropping it, along with his hat into the hands of a nearby servant, he raised his head and saw me. His gaze was severe; his eyes never wavered from mine, as though we were somehow locked together for all time. A mug of ale was thrust into his hands; he took a brief swallow without giving it a glance and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, never once taking his eyes from mine. Various men shook his hand and I saw him nod without looking at them. Even when Georgiana ran up and kissed his cheek, he put his arm around her shoulder in a brief embrace without ever breaking his gaze upon me. And all the while he walked toward me, narrowing the distance between us with determined rapidity. I, unknowingly, began to walk backward, until there was no longer a table on which to hold, and I found myself at the doorway that led from the hall to the kitchen outside. I clutched the molding for support, my hands behind me, icy cold.

"Ah, the master sees his bride."

"At last they are to be reunited."

I heard those and similar remarks made by the crowd and from the corner of my eye, I could see some of them elbow each other and laugh, not coarsely but rather in an approving manner.

"Shall you and Mrs. Darcy not lead the next dance, sir?" one of the men called forth, with added encouragement from several others.

"Not yet," Mr. Darcy said, advancing toward me all the while, "not until I have greeted my wife in a proper manner." This produced laughter and knowing looks between the tenants. Still, he walked steadfastly toward me, and I could see the grimness about his mouth and fire in his eyes. As unobtrusively as possible, I turned and walked through the door, steeling myself to appear perfectly calm and dignified.

"Ah, she wants to greet him in private," I heard someone say. However, the moment I could no longer be seen by our guests, I turned and fled. To this day I cannot tell you why I ran, only that I did. Sometimes I think I ran not only from Mr. Darcy, but from myself.

I barely missed colliding with a serving girl carrying a huge pitcher and another who walked behind her with a tray of goblets. I stepped to the side quickly and ran out into the night. Frantically, I searched for some place to hide, some provision of escape, when I heard Mr. Darcy's voice call out, "Elizabeth!"

I glanced over my shoulder and saw him gaining upon me. I ran faster and faster until I found myself inside the stable, recognizing my whereabouts only by the combined odors of horses, oats and fresh hay. I darted along the stalls, stumbling over a saddle and harness in the dark. Up ahead I could see the back door of the shelter standing open and so I ran toward it, hurrying out the other side where I once more felt the coolness of the evening fan my face.

"Elizabeth!" he called my name again and I knew then that I could not outrun him, for he was right behind me. He reached out and caught my hand, turned me around, and forced me to face him. Bales of hay stacked just outside the stable stood guard like silent sentinels and I remember my knees giving way and sinking down upon a mound of fresh hay not yet bound, and seeing Mr. Darcy all about me in the moonlight.

He took my face in his hands; ferocity shone forth from his eyes as he stared into mine. It seemed as though he peered deep enough to see all the way through my heart, down into my inner most being. "Elizabeth," he said again, this time in a sort of groan, his breath coming short and fast, "Why?"

And then his mouth sought mine with fervent urgency and my lips parted. I welcomed his kiss with all that was within me. I felt his body hard against mine as he gathered me into his arms, and when he deepened the kiss, my hands suddenly encircled his neck, his shoulders, clasping him to me as a dying woman clings to life. I fell back against the hay and he fell with me. His lips released mine and then claimed them again and, at last searched hungrily over my cheek, my ear, and down my neck, his hands moving about my face, my shoulders, my arms and back, until at last, he groaned my name again and broke away.

Our breathing came hard and fast. At first he said nothing, just continued to stare into my eyes, but then he put his hand to his mouth in that manner I knew so well as a signal of agitation, and shaking his head, he stood up.

"Why?" he cried out. "Why, Elizabeth? Tell me why!" He walked away from me and turned his back, obviously striving for composure. "Not one word. Not one word from you in four weeks!"

I made no utterance; indeed, I doubted that I possessed enough sense to form a complete sentence at the time.

"Could you not take pity on me and at least advise me that you had reached Derbyshire safely?"

I looked down at my hands. I opened my mouth to speak, but as I feared, nothing came forth. Finally, I managed to utter something about Georgiana's correspondence, but that would not satisfy him.

"And so you leave your duties to my sister, do you? Well, thank God, she has some compassion on me."

"I...I knew that you and Richard also kept in touch," I said somewhat lamely.

He whirled around then as though I had struck him. "Richard? You now call Fitzwilliam by his given name, do you?"

I swallowed, feeling guilty but not knowing why. "We...we are cousins, are we not?"

"And what are we, Elizabeth?" he demanded, once more leaning over me, his face so close that I had to shrink away from him in order to focus my eyes. "Are we not husband and wife, married these many weeks, and yet I am still no more to you than 'Mr. Darcy,' while my cousin, it appears, enjoys a closer familiarity with you than I do?"

"No," I said softly, reaching up and placing my hand upon his cheek. "No, he does not. I am your wife...William."

With those words, I saw the strain in his face begin to melt and once again I was in his arms and he began to kiss me anew, our desire for each other impossible to contain. Again and again, we sought each other's mouth. My hands roamed from his face to his thick curls, while I felt his arms encircle my waist, the strength of his hands in the middle of my back, as he pulled me closer and closer. We continued no little time in this manner until neither of us could breathe. Parting was necessary, at least for a moment, or we would have collapsed for lack of air. At length, he stood and taking my hands, pulled me to my feet.

"I have so many questions," he said.

"As do I," I whispered.

"This is not the time, however."

"No, we should return. Are we not obliged to our guests?"

When he sighed and nodded, I ran my hand across my mouth, hoping to erase any signs of our passion. I smoothed my skirt before my husband took my hand and led me back through the stable and to the rear entrance of the great hall. He stopped just outside and turned me toward him. I raised my head to see the full moon illuminate part of his countenance, the other still in shadow.

"You cannot go in like this, Mrs. Darcy."

"Sir?"

He smiled as he reached up and began to pluck bits of hay from my curls. "If you enter the room like this, I fear our guests will know exactly what we have been up to." He then turned me around and brushed off the hay from the back of my gown, a task which he seemed to apply himself to with great relish and which caused my breathing to once again become somewhat laboured.

Inside, we were met with cheers and more knowing winks and comments than I cared to acknowledge. It did not bother me, though, for I was wildly happy as Mr. Darcy escorted me to the head of the line and we led the next dance and the next and the next.

"You have surprised me many times in the past, sir," I said when we finally sat down, "but never like this. I knew you were proficient in a ballroom, but I had not the slightest idea you were such a country dancer."

"Any savage can dance," he said, cocking one eyebrow while his eyes rambled from my lips to my neck and below, "even this one."

Chapter 12

It was after two in the morning before the Harvest Ball ended. It might as well have been noon on the day before, for I was not tired in the least. No, I was far too exhilarated by the evening's activities and, in truth, by the sheer presence of Mr. Darcy. During the weeks we had been apart, I had almost forgotten how great an effect his appearance wrought upon my emotions. Tonight, however, I had learned in the most beguiling manner that his company ruled my feelings.

At the close of the ball, Colonel Fitzwilliam and Mr. Darcy escorted Georgiana and me to the foot of the great staircase in the center of the house, whereupon Mr. Darcy suggested that his sister retire.

"I shall never sleep, Wills," she declared, kissing him on the cheek, "for I am still aglow with excitement. And I am so glad you are home and without a sign of London's illness that you feared would ravage Elizabeth and me."

"I told you Darce was far too fierce for any sickness to conquer him," the colonel reiterated.

"Yes," Mr. Darcy said, looking at me, "it takes something much more powerful to take me down. Now, go along, Georgiana; it is late." She bid each of us goodnight and then reached out and hugged me, an unusual gesture on her part, but one that I welcomed. I watched her climb the stairs and marveled at how close we had grown in the last month. She had truly become my sister and I loved her.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Mr. Darcy indicated that the colonel and I should join him in the drawing room. Upon entering, Richard immediately asked him about the situation in London and whether the crime had been solved.

"Is Georgiana no longer in danger?" I added.

He said that I was correct, the former stable hand had been discovered and he was in custody along with Mrs. Younge and Johnny. Mr. Darcy's original suspicions had proved true. During a visit to Mrs. Younge by Johnny and his friend from the stable, they had complained to her of Mr. Darcy's unfair treatment and received a sympathetic ear. Johnny then told her how he overheard Lady Catherine's outburst the day she threatened Mr. Darcy, and all three of them had rejoiced to see this break in his family. Neither of the men had the brains to consider using such knowledge for profit, but Mrs. Younge, being clever, had looked upon that news as an ideal manner to exact her revenge. For the first time, I learned that Mrs. Younge was aunt not only to Johnny, but also to Mr. Wickham, being the younger sister of his mother. She had never forgiven Mr. Darcy for foiling Wickham's plans to marry Georgiana. She wrote the blackmail note, Johnny and the stable hand resigned from Mr. Darcy's service, and the plot was in place.

"I shudder to think what might have happened if you had not overheard the servants' gossip, Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy said.

"Yes, that was a most fortunate occurrence," Colonel Fitzwilliam added.

"I am so relieved that it is over," I said. "What will happen to them now?"

"An extended length of incarceration, I would venture," Richard said. "From what I know of judges, they do not look kindly upon riff-raff who attempt extortion upon gentlemen. Shall we have a glass of brandy in celebration?"

I took that as my cue to depart and bade them goodnight, but I confess my eyes lingered upon Mr. Darcy in particular. All the way to the doorway I could feel his eyes upon me, and glancing back over my shoulder, I was gratified to see it was not my imagination that produced those feelings.

Above stairs I found my maid had laid out my best gown and robe in obvious anticipation that I would wish to wear them to bed now that my husband had returned. I blushed at the thought, but allowed her to help me undress and let down my hair, brushing out my curls.

"Shall I plait it, Ma'am?" she asked.

"No, just leave it loose tonight, Sarah."

After she turned down the bed, I dismissed her and sat waiting before the fireplace, a nervous fluttering in the pit of my stomach. Would he come? And if he did, what should I anticipate? I rose and stirred the fire, although there was little need. I wandered to the mirror more than once, pulled my hair up off my neck and posed from side to side, then dropped it to curl about my shoulders. Yes, I mused, wearing my hair down is more flattering. I examined the possible beginnings of a blemish on my forehead, but determined it was nothing more than my imagination. At last, I picked up a novel and attempted to read, but the author seemed to have written utter nonsense, for I could not follow it. Several long sighs escaped before I could stop them and I walked back and forth to the inner door separating our chambers more times than I cared to count.

Where could he be? Perhaps he would not come after all. I had just reached the door once again and stood there staring at the handle when I heard a knock. I almost cried aloud and I did visibly jump. Willing myself to be calm, I took a deep breath and forced myself to wait several moments before I reached for the doorknob. It would not do to appear too eager.

There he stood, dressed in a dark, rich robe, his curls damp from obviously having just bathed, and so handsome I thought I could not bear it. I am sure my eyes must have been as large and round as moonbeams when I recognized the hungry expression about his eyes as they moved up and down my form. I do not know how long we stood thus, but to this day I can recall exactly how he looked and how every nerve in my body sprang alive with longing and yet fear of the unknown.

"May I come in, Elizabeth?" He smiled ever so slightly in that enticing way of his.

I nodded and swallowed. He took my hand and led me to the fireplace, whereupon he raised my fingers to his lips and kissed them with such tenderness I wanted to weep.

"You are very beautiful with your curls loose and flowing. Did you know that?"

"Yes," I said and then realized what I had just agreed to. "I mean no. I...I...oh, I do not know what I mean."

He smiled and, taking my other hand, kissed it as well, all the while gazing upon my flustered countenance. "You spoke correctly the first time. You are well aware that you are pretty and that the effect of your beauty is not wasted on me."

He sighed then, released my hands, and turned away. I felt the loss of his touch acutely, almost painfully; just in time I stopped myself from reaching out to him. He walked away, placing the sofa between us. "And in that robe you are disturbingly hard to resist...but I must." Confusion must have shown in my eyes, for he added, "It would be unfair of me to proceed any further this night."

"I...I do not understand, sir," I managed to say.

"I want you, Elizabeth. That is obvious. And the manner of your greeting tonight gave me hope that you may feel the same. Am I correct or have I misinterpreted your response once again?"

I blushed, not only at the fact that my desire for him was plain to see, but at the memory of how I had taken leave of him in London. "You have not," I murmured.

He swallowed and I could see how he struggled to maintain his composure. "There are things that exist between us, however, that need to be made straight before we come together as husband and wife - things of great importance, matters I would not lay aside for the mere heat of passion, only to have them separate us once passion is spent. Do you understand me, Elizabeth?"

I nodded slightly.

"It is far too late to begin such a discussion tonight. You can see that it is best for me to return to my chamber and you to remain here, can you not?"

With great reluctance, I nodded again.

"And do you agree?"

"Yes...except..."

"Except?"

"Except there is no lock upon the door between us and I...well, you know of my affliction."

He smiled broadly then, his dimples winking at me in the most exquisite manner. "And have you been affected by such since you have come to Pemberley?"

"Once."

"And did it cause you to climb into my bed?"

I shook my head.

"Then where?"

I blushed anew and cast my eyes upon the carpet. I hated to confess to him the insupportable destination of my last sleepwalking adventure.

"Elizabeth?" He covered the distance between us and joined me at the fireplace. Placing his hand upon my chin, he raised my face to meet his eyes. "Tell me."

"I awoke in the gallery, asleep on the floor...beneath your portrait."

The light in his eyes kindled anew and I saw him fight to keep himself from taking me into his arms, for I knew that what I said pleasured him and, in truth, did more than pleasure him. His voice came out deep and hoarse when he spoke.

"You cannot know what that means to me."

Taking my hands, he kissed the palm and inside of each wrist and then with a determined air, walked toward the door, where he turned one last time that night. "I must bid you good-night, Elizabeth, for although normally I consider myself a strong man, the hold you have over me tonight leaves me utterly weak."

Once the door closed behind him, I sighed deeply and sank down into a chair, for my knees had grown uncommonly wobbly. Little doubt existed in my mind as to which of us was the weakest. Was I relieved at his forbearance? Yes, somewhat, and yet another part of me wished that he had swept me off my feet and had his way with me, for I could still taste his fervent kisses when he had greeted me with unbridled emotion a few hours earlier. If kissing had thrilled me so, what greater pleasure must lie in store?

~ * ~

I did not walk in my sleep that night. Unfortunately.

I awoke in my own bed, quite alone and fairly late in the morning. I rang for Sarah and she aided me in putting on a pale yellow morning dress. While she fixed my hair, she mentioned that the servants' coach from London was to arrive that afternoon.

"Do you mean they did not come with Mr. Darcy last night?"

"No, Ma'am, Mrs. Reynolds said the Master rode horseback the entire way."

I did not know why that relieved me, but it did. Even though I felt certain there was nothing between Mr. Darcy and Fiona, my own diffidence wanted to hear it from his lips. That thought, naturally, led me to consider that he, in turn, would most likely demand an explanation from me as to why I had left him in such a cold manner in London. What could I say? I knew that he would be angry if I confessed my earlier suspicions and I was now quite ashamed of them, but on the other hand, he must take some of the blame. If he had been open with me and answered my questions about the maid and her child, I would never have given any credence to servants' gossip nor would I have suffered such anguish all these weeks. No, I resolved, he was as much to blame as I.

I fled the room as soon as the last pin left Sarah's hand and secured my bun. At that moment, I cared not whether my hair fell down around me. I wanted to see Mr. Darcy. Upon reaching the breakfast room, however, I hesitated, suddenly shy and wary of what I might encounter. I knew there was someone present, for I heard the sounds of a teacup placed on a saucer. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and summoned my courage before entering. My fears were groundless; there was no one to greet me except Georgiana.

"Good morning, Elizabeth. Did you sleep well?"

I nodded and seated myself, accepting the cup of coffee placed before me. I strove not to show my impatience or burning curiosity and forced my voice and actions to appear perfectly ordinary. "And where might the colonel and Mr. Darcy be off to this fine morning?" I asked.

"Wills was holed up with his steward for some time, but he has now joined Richard and they have gone shooting."

"Shooting," I murmured, as though it was the most natural thing in the world for my husband to do. Well, why not? Why should he do what I expected him to do? This was Mr. Darcy, after all. But how could he have greeted me with such passion last evening, danced with obvious abandonment and joy, appeared in my chamber clearly struggling to control his desire, and now avoid my presence? What enabled him to go about the day as if nothing had happened between us, while I was reduced to a puddle of confusion and nerves, wanting nothing more than to see him?

Whatever it might be, it served him well, for neither he nor the colonel showed their faces until late in the afternoon. By that time I had knotted my embroidery into a helpless tangle, read the opening page of a new novel at least fifteen times, paced the floor in the drawing room until I feared I would wear out the rug, and practiced the same sonata on the pianoforte repeatedly, missing the exact chords each time until Georgiana suggested that I rest my fingers (although I think she actually wished to rest her ears).

"Shall we not go for a long walk?" I finally suggested, rising from the piano stool. "I have been indoors far too long."

She readily agreed and donning our bonnets and buttoning our spencers, we had just walked across the great lawn to the path leading into the woods when we met Richard and William returning with the servants and dogs.

"We are just off for a long walk," Georgiana announced.

"A long walk?" Richard said. "Shall we join them, Darce?"

"Why not?"

They handed their guns to the servants and fell into step with us. Brother and sister soon walked ahead and the colonel and I were left to converse.

"Were you successful in your hunting?" I asked.

"A little. And have you recovered from last night's festivities?"

"A little." A very little, if I were entirely truthful.

We soon came to an opening in the trees and could see a still somewhat verdant meadow up ahead, rare for that late in the year. Georgiana pointed it out and she and her brother soon climbed the stile and were safely deposited upon the other side. The colonel indicated that I should go before him, but Mr. Darcy called out for him to come ahead, that he would help me across. He took my hand as I climbed the steps and I felt a quickening in the pit of my stomach when his hands went up around my waist and he lifted me down. He did not immediately release me even though I stood safely on the ground. Instead, he gazed into my eyes, his expression unreadable until I saw his eyes travel downward to my lips and then back again.

"Thank you," I murmured. We continued a short distance behind the others, but it was not long before they had far outdistanced us, whether it was due to their speed or our lack of, I could not say.

We said nothing to each other, but walked in perfect silence as though there were not at least fifty pertinent subjects waiting to be discussed between us. At last, I summoned my courage.

"Did you sleep well?"

He looked away, beginning to twist the ring he wore on his smallest finger. "No. I slept little, indeed."

"I am sorry."

"You should be."

"Sir?"

"I find that I can no longer sleep with just a wall and an unlocked door between us, Elizabeth. For now, I shall remove myself to another chamber farther away from yours."

I frowned. "Is that truly necessary?"

"For your sake, it is. I no longer trust myself to sleep so close to you, not until we have talked things out. I cannot bear another night of lying awake, every part of my senses listening in hopes that you will somehow find your way into my bed whether conscious or unconscious, and if you do, knowing that I shall be unable to restrain myself."

That familiar quickening in the pit of my stomach now grabbed me, almost causing me to gasp aloud. I looked away, unable to face him. We walked thus for some time, each of us in silence with so much to say hanging heavily between us. We reached the shade of a huge, spreading oak tree before he stopped.

"Elizabeth, I dare not push too hard, tread too quickly, for I recall our leave taking in London the morning after I first kissed you."

I closed my eyes and sighed deeply, wishing I could take back that awful morning and those terrible accusations I had imagined. "Oh, do not remind me of my actions then. I cannot think of them without abhorrence."

"I want an explanation, Elizabeth. I need to know why you seemed angry, why you never wrote to me. Had I offended you so greatly the night before?"

"No," I cried out immediately, "No, a thousand times no, William." I raised my hand to touch his cheek. "Your kiss did not offend me. Believe me, it never will."

I saw the light kindle in his eyes and relief significantly ease his countenance, as he drew me to him. Slowly and deliberately, he untied the ribbons to my bonnet and tossed it aside. With one hand upon my waist and the other holding the back of my head, he bent down, his dear face coming ever nearer and his mouth almost upon mine.

"Wills," Georgiana interrupted us. "Clouds are gathering and it looks like rain. Richard says we must return. Are you coming with us?"

Immediately, we both drew apart and I looked away as William attempted to answer her. The colonel, however (bless his heart!), quickly said, "Come on, Sprout. Can you not see that we are intruding?"

"Oh, Wills, Elizabeth, I am so sorry!"

We both said, "No, no, it is nothing," or something similarly inane, as they passed us by, heading back toward the house.

"I will escort Georgiana home, Darcy," the colonel said, trying his best not to laugh. "Carry on."

We watched their retreat until they could no longer be seen. Georgiana turned around to look at us at least once while Colonel Fitzwilliam took her by the shoulders and turned her back toward their goal.

"Should we return with them?" I asked, noting the dark clouds gathering.

Mr. Darcy shook his head. "First, we must talk and surely this is far enough away to afford us privacy." He took my hands in his, but I pulled away and took several steps from him.

"If we are truly to talk, William, then you must stand there and I over here, for I cannot think clearly when you are so near and...especially when you touch me."

He smiled and nodded. "Handsome and wise."

I blushed and felt my heart begin to beat erratically once again. "And you must not say things like that."

"Like what?"

"That I am handsome."

"Would you have me lie?" He cut his eyes at me in a way that threatened to reduce me to a helpless muddle.

"No, of course not. But you must not look at me in that manner, either."

"Shall I turn my back?"

"Perhaps." I acknowledged silently that from either side, his presence was handsome enough to tempt me. "Oh, I cannot set it right. I shall just not look at you!"

Neither of us said anything for a few moments and even though I did not face him, I could feel his eyes upon me, almost as caressing as his hands. I wondered how I would ever keep my wits about me when his mere presence filled me with longing. I began walking farther afield, but he would not let me go alone. "Are we truly to go for a long walk?" he asked.

"I think it is best to walk while we talk." How utterly stupid! I thought. Now I speak in rhymes. At this rate, I shall soon be reduced to spouting gibberish! Why does he have such effect on my senses?

We had reached the crest of a small hill by that time. It overlooked a tenant farmer's house below and I could see a woman hurriedly collect the wash from the clothesline, the wind whipping the sheets about. A young boy carried small stacks of firewood into the cottage and a babe toddled in and out the doorway. Old, petrified tree stumps remained directly at the spot where we stood, and I sat down to rest upon one of them. Mr. Darcy broke off a dried reed and swished it back and forth between the remaining stalks, an action he appeared to engage in with absence of mind.

"Shall you tell me now, Elizabeth?"

"Sir?"

"Why you never wrote since we have been apart. Am I correct to assume it has something to do with the manner of your leave taking from London?"

I looked away; my pulse began to race, and a flush covered my countenance. How could I reveal my hateful suspicions and yet, I knew there was no escape. I took a deep breath. "I did not write because I knew not how to say what I must...and because I knew that it would cause you distress. Before I walked downstairs that last morning, Fiona had just told me she was not to travel with us, that she was to remain in London with you and go to Pemberley when you did. This surprised me and, in truth, made me angry."

"But why?"

I raised my hand to silence him. "Let me continue, for if I do not say it all, I never shall. I thought...I feared the servants' gossip might possibly be true, that you loved her, that she was your mistress, and that Willie...might be your child."

He was deadly silent; the only sound his sharp intake of breath.

"The night before when you kissed me I had convinced myself I was wrong, that I should never have listened to such ugly talk, but when you kept her with you, all those old doubts swept over me and I allowed jealousy to cloud my thinking. I misjudged you as unworthy and Fiona along with you. I know now I was wrong, completely wrong. I learned that during the weeks we were apart. I now strongly suspect that Mr. Wickham is responsible for the birth of Willie, but my return to sanity does nothing to justify my prior thoughts."

When I ceased to speak and he said nothing, I ventured a look at him. His face was dark, his breathing apparent; his chest moved visibly, a clear indication of how I had wounded him. When he turned to meet my gaze, I almost gasped aloud to see the depth of anger in his eyes.

"You truly thought that, Elizabeth?" His voice sounded hard as stone. "You had no greater understanding of my character than to think me capable of such despicable behaviour?"

I barely nodded. "I did not wish to do so, sir. In truth, I wonder that I ever believed it in my heart, but at the time I was angry, confused, and unable to see past the fact that you were sending me off to Derbyshire while keeping her in London with you."

"I kept her there to help me! Fiona knew which of the menservants had made overtures to her. She was necessary to help solve the case. I was ready even to use her as bait in order to lure them out of their miserable holes, if needed. I would have done anything to protect Georgiana."

"I can see that now. And I acknowledge that my suspicions were groundless, but you must remember that when I asked, you refused to tell me the name of Willie's father. You said it was 'your responsibility.' Why did you not reveal that it was Mr. Wickham? What possible reason could you have had not to inform me?"

"Mr. Wickham is your brother-in-law. I did not wish to paint him in any worse light. I knew you regretted your sister's marriage and I hoped to spare you any greater pain on her behalf. I see that I was wrong to have done so."

"You were wrong. You should have answered my question, William. You should...oh, what is the use of discussing it. What is done is done and now we must bear the consequences."

"Right." His speech was clipped and abrupt. "We should return to the house."

He began to walk with such speed that I almost had to run to keep up with his long legs. He made no further conversation. I could see I had injured him with a wound so deep I feared it might not heal. Oh, why could I not have made up a silly story to account for my prior behaviour? Why had I been so brutally honest? I knew the answer full well. I wished with all my heart for this marriage to become one of mutual trust and if it were to be, we could not proceed on a bed of lies. We had to tell each other the truth from that day forward.

The storm broke long before we reached the house, soaking us with rain. Mr. Darcy removed his great coat and without touching me, placed it about my shoulders. He did not take my hand or assist me in slogging through the mud. The only time he offered his assistance occurred at the stile when he briefly took my hand as I climbed over it. There were no hands about my waist or long looks in my eyes. It seemed that not only had the storm broken, but our brief happiness as well.

A hot bath helped me recover physically from the long walk in the rain. Emotionally, I remained devastated. My mind replayed statements I had made and then heard the angry words Mr. Darcy had spoken, back and forth, over and over. I soaked for no little time, oblivious to the aroma of the salts added to the steaming water. Afterwards, Sarah dried my hair before the fire and I lay down upon the bed while she picked up towels and the remains of my wet clothing and took them below stairs to the laundry. When she returned, I asked that she have a tray sent up with supper and that she inform Mr. Darcy I would not join the family that evening.

Less than a quarter of an hour later, a forceful knock at the door caused me to sit up. When I called out to enter, he strode into my chamber, his curls still damp from his own bath.

"Are you ill?" he asked immediately.

I shook my head, suddenly aware that he was fully dressed, but I wore only my robe.

"Then why will you not leave your chamber?"

"I...I thought it best."

"Best? In what way?"

"Perhaps we have seen enough of each other for today, sir."

He pressed his lips together and looked away, obviously still angry. "Very well, if that is your wish." He stalked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Oh, William, it is not my wish, I wanted to cry aloud. Why had I not spoken? Why did his presence reduce me to a tongue-tied simpleton? I picked up a pillow and threw it at the door and then buried my face in another, giving way to sobs.

Sometime later when Sarah brought up my tray, I told her to take it away, that I was not hungry. She frowned and I knew she could see the tearstains on my face, but I had not the means to hide them. As she turned to leave, I heard another sound in the hall, and hoping it was Mr. Darcy, I hastily wiped my eyes and rose from the bed. It was not. Instead, Fiona entered the room and curtseyed.

"Begging your pardon, Mistress, I just wanted you to know that I have arrived."

"Fiona, come in. Was your journey uneventful?"

"Yes, Ma'am, except my Willie got sick from the jostling of the coach. He's never ridden in one before."

"I hope his illness will be of short duration."

"Oh, yes, Ma'am. He is fine now that we're here. If it is all right with you, Ma'am, I'll be up to serve you in the morning. The master said I might take tonight off and get Willie settled and all."

So she has already seen the master, I thought. "Of course. Tomorrow will be fine."

She thanked me, but did not move to vacate the room and so I added, "Was there anything else?"

She smiled. "Just that it's grand to see you again, Ma'am, and to be back here at Pemberley."

I nodded and with another curtsey, she left my chamber. Why had I not been more welcoming? The girl had done nothing to harm me and yet I still resented her, resented that she had come between my husband and me. She had done nothing of the sort, of course, but it was much easier to be angry with her than with myself. I had made a mess of things and Mr. Darcy had done precious little to help me out of it. I wondered if we would ever sort it all out.

Chapter 13

That night I could not sleep. I tossed to and fro until my sheets were in a hopeless tangle. Finally, I arose and poked at the fire enough to cause it to blaze up a little. The room having grown cold, I donned my robe and slippers, sat before the fire and pondered upon what I should do. My first impulse was to flee. Yes, I would escape to Longbourn, to Jane's welcoming arms and understanding heart. I would even endure Mamá's endless harangues to once again be where I was loved, for home was a place where they would take me in, no matter what. Not like Pemberley where the master of the house now looked upon me with evident distaste. How could I endure living there under such circumstances? For now, how would I endure the night, wondering how much Mr. Darcy regretted having married me?

The small clock on the mantel chimed three times. I sighed again and wondered what I should do. And then my anger began anew. I was not the only one at fault here. Mr. Darcy could have prevented my fears and distrust if he had been more open, if he, in turn, had trusted me with the truth. I became so angry I began to pace, and not long after that I decided to confront him, even though it was but three o'clock in the morning.

Very quietly, I tapped at the door separating us, and when I heard no answer from within, I slowly turned the knob and peered inside. The room was in total darkness; not even the remains of a fire existed in the fireplace. I ventured in and felt my way to his bed. When I bumped into the bedpost, I called out his name, but there was no answer. I ran my hands along the bed and could tell that it was made up, that he was not there. He had decided to sleep elsewhere after all. Was it because of his ill temper or might he still consider me a temptation? I could not rest until I knew the answer.

I returned to my room and after lighting a candle, I walked out into the great hall. I knew the location of Georgiana's chamber and the colonel's, as well. On this floor that left only the two suites that had belonged to Mr. Darcy's parents and one William had used years before. I padded along the carpet close to the south end of the hall where I knew the prior master suites to have been placed. I tapped lightly at the door that Mrs. Reynolds had told me belonged to Mr. Darcy's father and that William, himself, had used since becoming master. When I did not hear an answer I quietly turned the knob and lifted the candle, but to my dismay, found it empty.

I then proceeded to look in Mrs. Darcy's former room and not finding my husband there either, I considered giving over and returning to my own bed, deciding my husband had possibly removed himself to another wing. He must really want to get away from me, I thought. The only room remaining on the hall was one William had used as a young man long before becoming master of Pemberley. It was situated at the farthest end of the hall and Mrs. Reynolds had told me it was rarely even used as a guest room, as it still contained numerous items William had saved from childhood and others he had brought home from his days at Cambridge. I knew that I would not rest if I did not check it, too, so I softly pushed open the great door and in the dim candlelight, I caught my breath when I saw him asleep in his old bed.

Closing the door behind me, I walked inside and cleared my throat. It proved a vain attempt, for he did not awaken. I held the candle closer and could see him sleeping soundly, his beautiful dark curls tousled, his face softened by slumber, with neither sign of anger nor anguish about it. My heart melted at the sight. Upon impulse, I placed the candle on the small table beside the bed, blew it out, and stood there chewing my lip. I shivered in the coolness of the night, took a deep breath...and crawled into his bed. He roused slightly and turned over. Now thoroughly chilled from my walk in the hall, I cuddled up to his back and placed my arms around him, hugging his body close to me to feel its familiar warmth. If I had to leave tomorrow, I would at least have the memory of this night.

It was not long before I fell into a sound sleep.

~ * ~

I awoke to the sensation of a finger running lightly along my cheek and then across my bottom lip. Slowly, I opened my eyes, shocked at the sight of Mr. Darcy's face so close to mine. Momentarily, I forgot how I had come to lie in his bed, but then the knowledge of my daring action flooded my consciousness.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," he said.

"Good morning," I managed to murmur.

"Do you know where you are?"

I nodded. He raised one eyebrow.

"It seems that you have been stricken by your affliction, forcing you into my bed once again."

Slowly, I shook my head back and forth.

He frowned and raised himself up on one elbow. "Then how..." "I came willingly," I said softly. His smile turned somewhat tenuous. "Indeed? But why?"

"I needed to be with you one last time."

"Last time? Of what are you speaking?"

A heavy sigh escaped before I could suppress it; then, summoning my courage, I spoke quickly. I did not even pause to take a breath until I ran out of air. "I know, sir, that my previous mistrust of you has destroyed your faith in me and you told me some time ago that once your good opinion is lost, it is lost forever so, yes, I think it best that I leave Pemberley today, for I cannot see how we are to ever make a marriage out of this jumble."

"Well, we certainly cannot if you are to run off at the first sign of trouble." He lay back on the pillow.

"First sign?" I was incredulous at his understatement. "Sir, we have been in trouble since the beginning."

"What do you mean?"

"Our marriage began as nothing more than a practical arrangement. Distrust on both our parts has been rampant."

He sat up once again and looked directly at me. "I cannot speak for you, Elizabeth, but you speak in error as to my feelings. I have never distrusted you. Not ever."

"Then why have you not confided in me? Why have you avoided telling me the truth whenever I have asked certain questions?"

"I take offense at that!" Anger resounded in his voice. "I abhor deceit and have never lied to you."

"You have not lied, but you have refused to answer my questions."

"Only when I deemed it best."

"Well, it is not best," I said with as much force as possible. "Have you ever even slightly considered, sir, that you might not always know what is best for others?"

For some reason he seemed to relax then and spoke almost lazily, while that tantalizing smile of his played about his mouth, "Hmm...you think that, do you? And so your solution is to leave. Well, just where do you propose to go?"

"To Longbourn. And...and you may rest assured I shall release you from your obligation."

"Release me? And may I ask how you presume to do that?"

"I do not know. Surely, your barrister can work out the legalities whereby you may be free to marry again."

He laid his head back upon the pillow and once again began to run his finger along my cheek and across my lips. "And if I do not wish to be free?"

"But you must. You were angry and hurt by my distrust. I saw it in your eyes, William, and I heard it from your lips."

"True. But anger and distrust can be overcome."

I found it most difficult to think clearly when he persisted in caressing my lips and I became aware that we lay very close together; in fact, we were lying in each other's arms.

"How?" I managed to whisper.

"Well, you have made a good beginning by coming to me. But if you run off now, I cannot see how that will help sort things out at all. Much better to stay and face the music."

"I am afraid, sir, that I do not know the song."

"Oh, but I do, my dear. I know it well."

He then began to kiss me slowly, deliberately, caressing my lips with his in such a delightfully tender manner that I felt my whole body catch fire. I longed for him to deepen our kiss, and when he persisted in only teasing me with the barest of strokes, my arms tightened around him and pulled him down, down, until his lips parted and became truly mine to possess.

Eventually, he pulled away, breathing heavily. "You are irresistible in the morning. Did you know that? Completely irresistible." He began to kiss me again, our passion growing with each caress. When I thought I would not...could not deny him any part of myself, he released me and sat up in bed, rubbed his hand against his mouth, and shook his head.

"This will not do, Elizabeth. It will not do."

I did not know what to think or say. "Shall I...leave, sir?"

He turned and looked at me over his shoulder, cutting his eyes at me in the most intoxicating manner. Early morning sleepiness still softened his expression; his nightshirt stood open at the neck, revealing the beginnings of his beautiful chest. "No, you shall not leave. Not now, not ever. You shall stay at Pemberley and you shall stay in my bed until we have talked this out."

"That might take some time, sir."

"I have nothing more important in my life, Elizabeth. Do you?"

I shook my head, so thrilled that he did not want to banish me that I could hardly think straight. We then began to discuss our differences, a list of which would exhaust the reader, but which we made a valiant attempt to assail. He bade me tell him every reason why I had distrusted him and dared to believe the ugly tale about Fiona. For his part, I have to admit that he listened well and did not interrupt me even when it was evident by the fire in his eyes, he would have preferred to throttle me. When I finished, I sat quietly, waiting for the onslaught of his temper.

Instead, he asked a simple question. "And do you now admit you were in the wrong?"

"Utterly and completely. And will you admit you should have been more open and forthcoming in answer to my questions?"

"I will. And so this part of our misunderstanding is now behind us, am I correct? You do believe that there is nothing between your maid and myself."

"Yes," I replied.

"Then we must seal it with a kiss and never speak of it again. Agreed?"

I am sure my eyes widened at his suggestion, but I was quick to nod in agreement. I sat up as he took my hands and pulled me to him. His lips closed upon mine and I can only say that he kissed me quite thoroughly, so much so that when he released me, I felt both the room and bed begin to spin. He steadied me with his hands and told me to scoot up in the bed and lean against the headboard, while he reclined against the foot.

"For we must now move on to the next item on your agenda," he said firmly. I wondered how he could kiss me with such abandon and then move right on to thinking sensibly when my head was in such a muddle, but I strove mightily to think clearly and determined that the next words I spoke would be sensible.

"Sir, I must say this, for it is another example of how you keep things from me, although, on the other hand, I must admit it is the most generous thing you could ever do, so I suppose I am not actually complaining and yet I am in a way because you should have told me so that I would have known and afforded you the appreciation that you deserve most..."

"Elizabeth, you confuse me."

"I am somewhat confused, myself. I shall begin anew by thanking you for your kindness to my poor sister, Lydia. Ever since I have known it, I have been most anxious to acknowledge to you how gratefully I feel it. Were it known to the rest of my family, I should not have merely my own gratitude to express."

I looked up to see how he met my declaration and noted the look of surprise on his face and then a forbidding frown settled about his eyes. "I am sorry, exceedingly sorry that you have ever been informed of what may, in a mistaken light, have given you uneasiness. I did not think Mrs. Gardiner was so little to be trusted."

"You must not blame my aunt, for it was Richard...Colonel Fitzwilliam who revealed it to me and, of course, I could not rest until I knew the particulars. Let me thank you again, in the name of my family, for that generous compassion which induced you to take so much trouble and bear so many mortifications for the sake of discovering them."

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

Not trusting myself to look directly at him, I stared at the rumpled sheets and counterpane, thrilled at his words. He had done it all for me and me, alone.

"But Fitzwilliam!" he said, angry disbelief in his voice. "I cannot believe that he told you."

"Had you sworn him to secrecy in the matter?"

"I had not. I did not think it necessary, for at the time of its occurrence I did not envision him ever crossing your path again. And here, I have thrown you together daily these past weeks. What else has my cousin revealed about me?"

"I can think of nothing, other than sharing bits of your correspondence about that shabby business in London." When he made no further comment, I took a deep breath and made a bold suggestion. "Now that mystery is out in the open, shall we seal it with a kiss as well?"

He smiled, his eyes darkening. "Agreed."

I scrambled into his arms before he could change his mind and this time I kissed him with an utter lack of restraint until I could feel the muscles in his arms begin to quiver. When I drew back slightly, his voice came out quite roughly, as did his breathing. "And...the next item... might be?"

I drew back, but I did not retreat to my former place at the head of the bed. Slowly, we removed our hands from each other's arms and I began to play with the pleat in my gown, rubbing it back and forth between my fingers to keep my hands occupied and thus refrain from touching him.

"Have you kept your promise to me about Mr. Bingley and Jane? From my sister's correspondence, it does not appear that you have."

He frowned, grabbed a pillow and punched it with such force that I expected to see feathers fly, before placing it at his back. "I have not."

"And why not, may I ask? It was agreed upon before our marriage."

"That is correct, but at present I have serious doubts as to the wisdom of such action."

I straightened, pulling my shoulders back, for I could feel that familiar ire rising within me. In doing so, my gown slipped off one shoulder, but I ignored it. Why should he insist on being stubborn about this? What possible reason could he have? I struggled to keep my voice even. "Then you must tell me why. You certainly owe me that much, Mr. Darcy."

He looked directly at me. "We are back to 'Mr. Darcy,' are we? You sit in my bed clad only in your gown, which is falling down in the most fetching manner, and yet address me as Mr. Darcy." I immediately replaced the errant part of my gown, but he reached over and aided it in exposing my bare shoulder once more. "I like it better like that," he said, his voice a low growl.

"Sir, you avoid the subject."

He smiled, which almost made me forget the subject, myself, before he continued. "Very well. I have not spoken to Bingley because I fail to see in him what you do. You profess that he is in love with Miss Bennet and that her feelings are the same. I will not argue with you as to her state of mind. When in her presence, I saw no apparent proclivity in her manner toward Bingley, but I shall accept the fact you possess a thorough knowledge of your sister's wishes and I bow to your thinking in that regard. However, I now wonder if Bingley is truly in love with Miss Bennet."

"How can you doubt it?" I demanded. "At Hertfordshire, he showed every inclination of a man besotted. Why, the entire county talked of it. We all expected an announcement of their betrothal by last Christmas until you and his sisters persuaded him otherwise and whisked him off to town."

"And just exactly how did you come by that intelligence? Who told you that Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst and I spoke of such things with him? I have wondered that ever since you accused me thus in the vicar's parsonage last April."

"Richard told me that very afternoon before you...visited me."

"Fitzwilliam? What is he now, an old woman? I never knew him to have such a loose tongue! Or do you possess a particular talent in extracting information from him?"

I glared at him and then saw the smile playing about his mouth. "Oh, no, William! You will not distract me by changing the subject and ridiculing your cousin, no matter how clever you are. I want an answer. How can you not believe that Mr. Bingley was unduly influenced by you and that your interference has kept him from declaring himself to Jane?"

"That is precisely why I have reservations."

"I do not understand."

"If Bingley truly loved your sister enough to marry her, neither his sisters nor I could have pressed him into rethinking his decision."

"But he thinks very highly of you, sir. It is evident he looks to you for guidance and you have caused him to doubt her preference for him."

"Elizabeth, if I loved a woman as you think Bingley loves Miss Bennet, nothing - and I do mean nothing - could keep me from her. Neither her impertinent remarks, nor her teasing manner nor accusations of defects in my character, not even her reluctance to dance with me would deter me." I realized we no longer spoke of Mr. Bingley and Jane. He took my hands in his, then lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. "Not even when I proposed and she turned me down, declaring that I acted in an ungentleman-like manner and that I was the last man she would ever marry...not even that would keep me from pursuing her, from doing everything in my power to make her mine."

"Pray," I pleaded, attempting to turn my face from his, "do not remind me of what I said then, of how terribly I abused you."

"What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable. My conduct, my manners, my expressions during the whole of it is now, and has been many months, inexpressibly painful to me, though it was some time, I confess, before I was reasonable enough to allow their justice."

"I had not the smallest idea of their being ever felt in such a way."

"I can well believe it. I have been a selfish being all my life. As a child, I was given good principles, but left to follow them in pride and conceit. Such I was, from eight to eight and twenty; and such I remain except for brief episodes. Episodes that will only reoccur and change me into a more worthwhile person with your influence, dearest, loveliest Elizabeth!"

Oh, I felt all the anger I ever directed toward him dissolve at the words coming from his mouth and the look in his eyes. If I had taken the time to glance down, I would not have been at all surprised to find myself reduced to nothing less than a pool of mush.

"We both have many questions one for the other," he said. "That we have acknowledged, but truly, there is only one that matters. At Hunsford cottage last Easter, I told you that I greatly admired and loved you. I still do."

My heart stood still. I swear that it refused to beat!

"I tried to conquer my desire for you - I tried most desperately - but it was a hopeless case," he said. "At Longbourn in October, you asked me why I wanted to marry you and I refused to tell you, but I tell you now. The sole reason, the only reason is that I love you more than life itself. I loved you more on the day of my second proposal than I did at Kent. I love you more today than I did yesterday, and I know without a doubt that I shall love you even more tomorrow. I will love you, Elizabeth, until I no longer draw breath, and that is God's truth."

I reached up and took his face in my hands. Slowly I pulled his mouth toward mine, while I felt his hands go around my waist, gathering me into his arms. Our lips touched and that exquisite taste of heaven washed over me once again, drawing me in with its enticing flavour, setting every nerve within me on fire. He deepened his kiss and I welcomed it, surrendering to the joy of being loved.

Sometime later, he released my mouth and simply held me in his arms. With his hand he cradled my head against his strong shoulder, binding me to him in the closest of embraces.

"You must answer this question, though," he said.

"Oh, William, no more questions for now. I am spent."

He cleared his throat. "I believe I am the one who answered the most questions. You have escaped with naught but one."

"All right, but you are merciless."

He raised me so that he could look into my eyes. "May I dare to hope you are beginning to love me...perhaps just a little?"

I could not help myself. I rolled my eyes. "A little? How can you doubt it? Have I not behaved like a shameless hussy each time you kissed me? I even crawled into your bed this very night!"

He smiled. "Such description is false, Elizabeth. I would say you have responded as a tender-hearted woman who takes pity on a drowning man."

"Ah, William, you mistake my motives. I have never pitied you, not even once."

"Then will you say the words?"

I gazed into his eyes, willing myself not to weep. "I love you, William, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I will love, cherish...and try to obey...till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance, and thereto I give thee my troth."

My vision blurred as tears filled my eyes. Laying my head against his chest, I slipped my arms around his waist. His heart beat rapidly in my ear and his breathing grew laboured. His voice was deep and ragged when he spoke. "This time I believe you."

"This time I spoke the truth." I raised my face to his and sought his lips. What began as a gentle caress soon deepened into a long, intoxicating kiss that threatened to blaze into a conflagration, as he stroked my back, holding me closer and closer. It took a huge clap of thunder to bring us to our senses. We both drew apart, looking at the windows as if to ask What? Surely, God in heaven must have laughed to see such surprise on the faces of two of his silliest creatures.

"More rain," William said, pulling me back against his chest. "Did not you once say that you loved to be in bed when it rains?"

"I believe I said I love to sleep when it is raining."

"Hmm, well, I do not anticipate your sleeping any time soon."

I trembled at the thought of what he suggested, but instead of proceeding to kiss me, he said, "Tell me, when did you first love me?"

I laughed. "Oh, no, William, not more questions."

"Why not? Tell me the answer. When did you first love me?"

"I hardly know. It has come on so gradually, that I hardly know when it began. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

"I must know this, Elizabeth, and you must give me a straight answer. Did you fall in love with me after Fitzwilliam told you of my actions toward Wickham and your sister?"

I could hear the emotion in his voice and I knew I must not tease him any more. I shook my head. "No. I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation, but I was already in love with you long before I heard his revelation."

He pulled me to him once again and held me tightly, so tightly I could hear our hearts beat as one. "You know not how much that means to me," he said, his voice almost hoarse.

"But why? What is so important about when I began loving you?"

"I would not have you love me out of gratitude."

So that was why he had not told me, why he had sworn the Gardiners to secrecy. He would not use that example of his fine character to cause me to marry him. He would rather force me into an arranged marriage, endure my anger and hostility for months on end, possibly forever, without any certainty I would ever become an agreeable wife. Oh William, I thought, do you not ever do things the easy way?

And then I discovered that at least one time he did just that, for it was exceedingly easy for him to teach me how a husband and wife please each other. I decided he was correct in his first statement after all: I loved being in bed when it rained...as long as he was there, too.

~ * ~

By the time we awoke the second time, the storm had passed and the sun now blazed way up in the heavens. I sat up, wondering at the hour, but the only clock in the room had not been set for some time, as no one had occupied the room for several months. William stirred and opening his eyes, he reached for me and pulled me back into his arms.

"Where are you going, my pretty wife?" He caressed my cheek with the back of his hand.

"Wherever you wish, my good sir." I smiled and stroked the curls back from his forehead.

"Hmm, I can think of some interesting places."

"Mr. Darcy!" I pretended to be shocked.

"No, no, my dearest, you can no longer play the innocent with me, for I know the truth about you." He began to nuzzle my neck and I could not suppress my giggles.

Just then we heard a noise out in the great hall. "What was that?" I said.

He looked up briefly and shrugged. "Probably one of the servants lighting the candles."

"William, there is no need for candles. Look, the sun is far above the house. It must be quite late in the morning."

He sat up then and did, indeed, look around and acknowledged I was probably correct.

"It appears to be mid-afternoon," he said.

"Everyone must have risen hours ago. Should not we do the same?"

He sighed as he smiled at me and then reached down and kissed me. "Yes, but it does seem a shame to leave the room where I have known the greatest happiness of my life."

My heart skipped a beat to hear those words, to know that I was the cause of the great joy that shone forth from his eyes. "Oh, William, I feel the same."

"Do you, my darling? Have I made you happy? Truly happy?"

"How can you doubt it?" I kissed him in return and we were soon swept away by a new wave of passion when an even louder noise from outside the door interrupted us.

"What in blazes...?" He raised his head. "Elizabeth, I must see to this, as much as I hate to leave you."

"Wait! If you open the door, whoever is there will see that I am here in your room."

He smiled. "Well, it is not as though you should not be, my dear. You are my wife." He rose from the bed and grabbed his robe.

"Pray, let me put on my robe, first."

"Very well." He handed me the garment and I slipped it on.

"William, does it show?"

"Does what show?"

"You know...what we were...well, you know."

He struggled in earnest not to laugh openly. "Only if I cannot cease grinning." He reached over and kissed the tip of my nose. "Do not worry, sweetest wife, it is not written on your forehead. Our secret is concealed."

Still, I quickly climbed out of the bed, wrapped my robe securely about me, and tried to smooth my wayward curls before he opened the door. Attempting the most serene and dignified expression that I could muster, I stood beside the bed. William opened the door to find not only his valet in the hall, Fiona and Sarah along with Mrs. Reynolds, but Colonel Fitzwilliam and Georgiana, as well. They were all in earnest conversation, the servants out of breath, seemingly having hurried down the hall.

"Wills!" Georgiana cried when he opened the door. She immediately ran to him and embraced him. "We thought something had happened to you. And where is Elizabeth? She is not in her room and here it is early afternoon. Richard has combed the grounds and he could not find her or you. I am afraid something has hap..." And then she saw me. "Oh, there you are! Why, Wills, did you and Elizabeth sleep in your old chamber last night?"

"Georgiana," Colonel Fitzwilliam quickly moved to her side and took her arm. "Come with me."

"But why? Wills, were you showing Elizabeth some of your things from Cambridge?"

"Georgiana," Richard said again.

"Richard, what is it?"

"Come along," he said forcefully, "now!"

"But why?"

"Never you mind." He raised his eyebrows at William and I could see the nerve in his cheek quivering as he struggled not to laugh. Taking Georgiana by the arm, he prodded her down the hall to the stairs and then below. The servants had all immediately scattered, averting their faces as they were well trained to do. William turned to me and I could see his efforts to repress his feelings reflected on his face.

I sighed and walked past him through the door that he held open.

"So much for concealment," I said under my breath.

We both stole a glance at each other from the corner of our eyes, and although our shoulders shook as we walked down that long hall to our separate chambers, I am proud to say we did maintain some manner of dignity and successfully refrained from bursting out with laughter until we safely hid behind closed doors.

Chapter 14

That evening at dinner, Colonel Fitzwilliam announced he would leave the next morning to return to his regiment in town. His words were met with disappointment and regret from all of us, especially Georgiana. She pleaded with him to stay until her brother reminded her that their cousin did have responsibilities other than her entertainment.

She sighed and pouted. "I have grown accustomed to your being here all the time, Richard. Shall you not resign your commission and buy a house in Derbyshire?"

"A very inviting suggestion, Sprout, but hardly practical."

"You will return and spend Christmas with us, will you not?" I asked.

"Thank you, Elizabeth, I should love to, but seeing as how the holiday is but a few weeks from now, I think not. My duties will require my continued presence, I am sure, since I have taken such an extended leave."

"But Richard, no one works at Christmas. Surely, you can slip away," my sister said.

"Georgiana," William said, "let him be. Fitz knows what he can and cannot do."

She said nothing more for a while, but I could see her spirits turned melancholy. William surprised me with his next statement, although it was anything but unwelcome.

"I suggest we invite Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth's sisters to come from Longbourn and join us for Christmas, as well as the Gardiners."

My face lit up at the idea of seeing my family once again. "Oh, William, that is generous of you."

"I shall write to them this evening," he said. "And what say you to extending the invitation to Mr. Bingley, as well?"

I would have kissed him then and there if we had been alone! At last, he would make good on his promise to correct things between Jane and Mr. Bingley. I nodded vigorously and our eyes locked in loving accord.

"I suppose that means you will invite his sisters, as well," Georgiana said somewhat half-heartedly.

William frowned and I struggled not to sigh, but I rose to the occasion and summoned every gracious bone in my body. "Of course we should ask them, should we not?"

"If you think best, my dear," William said somewhat grimly.

"Who shall you spend Christmas Eve with, Richard?" Georgiana asked.

"Most probably my parents unless they invite Lady Catherine to visit them. If she is there, then I should prefer the company of my junior officers on post. Surely we lonely fellows can produce more holiday cheer among ourselves than I would experience at Eden Park."

We all smiled in agreement, although Georgiana's smile did not last. "I cannot bear the thought of you being alone at such a festive time of year."

"Then you must provide me with a happy memory to recall when I am far away, Georgie. Might you favour me with yuletide selections on the pianoforte after dinner?"

She readily agreed and we spent a portion of the evening listening to her play. Mr. Darcy prevailed upon me to join her in a duet and we sang several old tunes. At the end of our pleasant interlude, William walked his sister to the stairs after she bid us good-night, leaving Colonel Fitzwilliam and I alone in the music room. I took advantage of our privacy to speak to him.

"Richard, will you call again at Pemberley before leaving for your post abroad?"

The look on his face was pensive. "I am not sure exactly when I shall leave, but I hope to."

"Perhaps you might come for Georgiana's birthday in January. I suppose you have told her of your plans to leave England, have you not?"

"No, I shall remain silent in that regard as long as possible, for I cannot bear to see her unhappy, although I know she will forget all about me before long. She is young and has much to look forward to."

"She does, but I cannot believe she will forget you easily." I watched him walk to the mantel and stare at the flames. "Forgive my intrusion, but I cannot help but feel it is because of Georgiana that you make plans to depart these shores. Am I wrong?"

He turned and I was surprised at the pain I saw reflected in his eyes. "I wish that you were, Elizabeth."

"But why? Colonel, I know I should not ask, but is it possible you are in love with Georgiana?"

He looked away, but not before I saw the truth wash over his countenance. "If I am, it is my cross to bear and mine, alone."

"Can you not tell her?"

He shook his head. "She is still a child. I am like an older brother to her, a comfortable, old friend she has loved since childhood. No, I cannot inflict my burden upon her. 'Tis better to leave things as they are and for me to remove myself from her life."

"I do not agree," I said forcefully.

"On what do you not agree?" Mr. Darcy said, entering the room just then.

"On whether Mrs. Hurst is more tiresome than Miss Bingley," Richard said smoothly, but with a knowing look in my direction. I marveled at how well he concealed his strong emotion. It was evident he did not wish to share our conversation with his cousin.

Mr. Darcy laughed and said he thought it probably a draw. "Sometimes I wonder if Charles Bingley is truly their brother. Perhaps he is a foundling, for surely he is the complete opposite in manner and disposition."

"Siblings are not always alike," I said. "Some of my sisters are nothing akin to each other except in name."

"Quite right, my dear." He sat in the chair closest to me. "And you are completely different from all of them, the very best of the lot I declare. Would you not agree, Fitzwilliam?"

"Absolutely. You have won the prize, Darce. There can be no doubt. And now I shall retire and leave the two of you, as I feel certain my absence will not be missed."

I blushed, remembering how we had exposed ourselves more than once in front of the colonel since my husband had returned to Pemberley. William did nothing more than raise an eyebrow at him, however, as we bid him good-night.

After he had left the room, William said, "Come here, my love."

I rose, took a step toward him and laughed when he pulled me down onto his lap and began to kiss my neck.

"William! What if the servants come in?"

"They will leave immediately. Pemberley's servants are discreet."

He began to work his way around the neckline of my dress, leaving a trail of kisses that interfered greatly with my ability to breathe. When I could stand his teasing no longer, I took his face in my hands and sought his mouth, kissing him until he, too, had difficulty drawing breath.

"Do you know how happy you have made me tonight?" I asked, drawing away at last.

"Give me time and I can make you happier." He reached for me to capture my lips once again.

I laughed softly, but held myself away. "No doubt, but I refer to what you said at the table. Thank you for asking both Jane and Mr. Bingley to Pemberley for Christmas. I can only assume that you intend to make things right between them."

He sighed deeply. "I shall do what I can, Elizabeth, even though I still have reservations that Bingley is worthy of your sister."

"She loves him, William. Is it not up to her to decide his worth?"

"I suppose, although I would much rather see her with someone who is more sure of himself, more settled and mature. How about if we set her up with Fitzwilliam? Now, there is a man who knows what he wants. If he spent much time with Miss Bennet, is it not possible they might fall in love?"

I rose from his lap and turned away, not wishing to reveal my thoughts.

"Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Not far." I looked back at him over my shoulder and smiled. "Just far enough to think well enough to make a sensible statement. And as to Colonel Fitzwilliam, has he not made it clear that he must marry a woman of fortune? Surely, Jane's lack would hamper any such connection."

"Fitz is not poor by any means. He would provide for Miss Jane very well and with the dowry I have set up for her, they could live comfortably."

"I have never seen an inclination for each other on the part of either of them."

"They have been in the same company but a short while. Perhaps I can prevail upon Fitz to change his plans and join us during the holiday after all."

I walked back to him and knelt at his feet, taking his hands in mine. "William, I do not think we should play matchmaker in all of this."

"Why not? You are perfectly willing for me to prod Bingley towards your sister."

"She loves him," I said softly, laying my head upon his knee. "Believe me, I know my sister's heart and she does not love Colonel Fitzwilliam. Jane will never care for anyone as she does Mr. Bingley."

"Very well, my dear." He began to stroke my curls. "It shall be as you wish. I cannot deny you anything."

I raised my head and smiled as he leaned down to kiss me. "Then shall we go above stairs?"

"Gladly!"

We rose and exited the room, my hand tucked inside his arm. As we climbed the great staircase, I asked, "Whose bed shall we sleep in tonight, William?"

"Mine," he announced without the slightest hesitation.

"And why not mine?" I was unable to keep from teasing him.

"Because I have dreamed of having you in my bed far too many nights. You have to admit that I have been much more than patient and now I demand my rights."

"Perhaps I have dreamed the same dream, only in my bed," I persisted.

"Then let us be fair. Who has dreamt the longest? There is no question about it. I win hands down, for I have loved you much, much longer than you have loved me."

I could do nothing more than smile and lean my head against his shoulder as we continued on our way, savouring the pleasure I anticipated. How delightful to know I should never have to sleep alone again.

~ * ~

Light snow fell as Colonel Fitzwilliam left the next morning. It covered the grounds of Pemberley like fairy dust, glistening each time the sun peeked through the clouds and lit up the landscape. I hoped it might lighten Georgiana's mood, but it was not to be. She moped around for most of the day and, in truth, her countenance did not change much for the next ten days until my sisters and mother arrived from Longbourn and the Gardiners a day later. They had, of course, accepted the invitation with alacrity. Jane wrote the response and one line in her letter had piqued my curiosity, as well as William's.

'I have something of great importance to tell you, Lizzy, but I shall wait until we are face to face before doing so.'

I could not imagine what it was and my only fear was that she might have accepted the proposal of some kind gentleman from the county, as she had threatened to do when I last saw her at Longbourn. Neither William nor I had written her to expect Mr. Bingley's attendance at Pemberley, as we had not yet heard from him. William said he was a poor correspondent and that we would probably hear from his sisters before he wrote and sure enough, Mr. Bingley proved quite late in sending his acceptance.

Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst responded that neither would be able to take advantage of our hospitality. It seemed Mr. Hurst's brother had already asked them to spend Christmas at his house in Surrey and they were invited to a Christmas ball to be held at the home of Lady Jersey's nephew, who resided in the same neighbourhood. You might imagine what severe disappointment that caused our household, but we bore it as best we could.

I had much to do to prepare Pemberley for the onslaught of visitors and thus did not spend much time alone with my sister-in-law. William persuaded her to accompany him into the woods with a couple of the servants to select the Yule log and holly bough, but that excursion did little to lift her spirits. He complained to me about her lack of holiday cheer and asked if I knew why her low mood persisted. I told him the truth, that Georgiana had not confided any reason to me, but in my heart I felt guilty in keeping silent as to what I thought lay at the base of it all. Whether she knew it or not, I thought Georgiana as much in love with Colonel Fitzwilliam as he with her. And yet, I feared that William would not wish to hear that.

So it was a great relief to have Mamá, Jane, Mary and Kitty arrive and meet Georgiana. They provided a noisy, welcome diversion and I was glad to see my family claim much of my young sister-in-law's attention. She and Mary shared a delight in music and when at the instrument, they were quite compatible. Kitty's natural exuberance could not help but aid Georgiana to emerge from her natural reticence and I hoped my sister-in-law's decorum might, in turn, influence my sister. Of course, Mamá was in awe of Pemberley - in truth, all of my sisters were impressed - but she fell speechless the first day of her visit when I took her on an extensive tour of the house. We took advantage of the muted respite and found ourselves longing for it once her vocal abilities returned, for she oohed and aahed throughout the entire establishment. She blessed Mr. Darcy again and again for marrying me and then played the coquette with him in the evenings after tasting a glass of wine. He bore it all with a tolerable spirit and I tried my best to console him when we were alone in his chamber at the end of each day, a tiresome duty but one I felt compelled to endure.

We were truly surprised by one of Mamá's statements she bestowed upon us as soon as her ability to speak returned.

"Lizzy! Has Jane told you the news?"

"What news is that, Mamá?"

"Mr. Bingley has returned to Netherfield!"

I looked at Jane in amazement and observed her blush and attempt to conceal her smile. "No, she did not tell me." I stole a glance at Mr. Darcy who appeared as surprised as I was.

"Then let me tell you all about it. He came with a company of gentlemen a fortnight ago. I had it from Mrs. Long and then Mrs. Philips confirmed it was a shooting party and none of the ladies accompanied them. But, oh, Lizzy, we were in such a state, for Mr. Bingley resided three days in the neighbourhood and still he did not call! Well, I said it was all your father's fault. If he had not gone and died, he would be there where he belonged and could have called on Mr. Bingley. Yes, yes, it was all his fault." She paced back and forth in the drawing room waving her kerchief around to punctuate her speech.

"Mamá!" Jane remonstrated, for all the good it accomplished. I shook my head and with a meaningful look at my sister, I attempted to return my mother to the point of her conversation

"And so Mr. Bingley did not call upon any of you?"

"Oh, but he did, Lizzy. On the fourth day of his sojourn, Kitty looked out the window and what do you think she saw? None other than Mr. Bingley riding up the path to Longbourn on his dappled mare! Oh, he was mighty pleased to see Jane again. It was all as plain as day. No one could mistake his preference for her."

"Mamá!" Once again Jane wore an imploring expression about her countenance.

I watched Mr. Darcy retreat to the window, that shell of disapprobation descending upon his countenance. Why could my mother not learn to curb her tongue?

The arrival of the Gardiners that afternoon provided not only welcome guests, but distractions for both Mamá and Mr. Darcy. He spent no little time reacquainting my uncle with Pemberley's grounds and if it had not been snowing, I think they would have fished the lake dry just to be outdoors, away from a house filled with women. It was the third day of my family's visit before Jane and I found time alone. That afternoon, Georgiana and Mary practiced a duet, Mamá listed Mr. Darcy's assets to Mrs. Gardiner once again and planned Jane's upcoming nuptials even though she had not yet received a proposal, while Kitty entertained the younger Gardiners outdoors in the snowy garden. I tucked Jane's hand in my arm and whisked her off to a parlor in the east wing. From the window we could see my husband and uncle walk the path that led to the pond.

"Oh, Lizzy, are you truly as happy as you appear?" Jane asked.

My face was wreathed in smiles. "Truly. Jane, it is just as you hoped. I have come to love Mr. Darcy and, wondrous thought, he loves me in return."

"Of course he does! I knew he did the moment he asked for your hand at Longbourn."

"I confess that I did not. And I am afraid I behaved badly and made him miserable for quite some time."

"You, Lizzy? I cannot believe it!"

"Come, Jane, you know what a reluctant bride I was. Indeed, I acted terrible to him for no little time. It is a wonder he did not return to Longbourn and dump me on Mamá's doorstep with a list of complaints hung 'round my neck."

"Lizzy!"

I could not help smiling. "But he is too good, Jane, absolutely too good a man to do such a thing. He has borne my anger and suspicion and bad temper and won me over. He is truly the best of men."

"Oh, Lizzy, I am so happy for you," she said, but I could not mistake the wistful sound of her voice.

"And you? Your last letter made me alive with curiosity. What is this news you have to tell? Does it have to do with Mr. Bingley?"

She blushed and looked down at her hands in her lap. "He has not made a declaration to me, Lizzy, if that is what you mean. But I am happier than I have been in a long time."

"Because?"

"Because even though we were separated close to a year, when he did call upon us, it was like he had never gone away. I still believe I have never met a more amiable man in my entire life."

"And is he yet at Netherfield?"

"No, he returned to London last week, but he promised to come back to Hertfordshire with the new year."

"Oh, Jane, I cannot wait any longer. I must tell you this! Mr. Darcy has invited Mr. Bingley to spend Christmas with us. He comes to Pemberley tomorrow!"

The colour drained from Jane's face and her eyes grew larger and bluer than usual. "He is coming here?" she repeated.

I took her hands in mine. "You shall spend the next fortnight in each other's company every day."

"Oh, Lizzy, do you think that best? What about Mamá?"

I sighed and closed my eyes for a moment. "Jane, if Mr. Bingley loves you, he will have to accept your family. Mr. Darcy has learned that, and if he, of all men, can tolerate the Bennets, surely Mr. Bingley can."

We both laughed and I was grateful I could laugh, for three months ago I would never have believed such a deed possible.

~ * ~

Mr. Bingley did arrive the next day along with a new snowstorm. He walked into the great hall, his hat and coat dusted white within the short distance from his carriage to the door. A bitter wind blew in with him, causing the candles to flare up. Mr. Darcy and I had just left the breakfast room and crossed the hall when the door opened upon him. We were exceedingly pleased to see him and ushered him into the salon where my family had gathered after eating. I thought Mamá would suffer apoplexy upon first sight of Mr. Bingley; her mouth hung agape a full five minutes. Neither Jane nor I had warned her he was coming for fear it would only encourage her inappropriate remarks in the presence of Mr. Darcy.

I paid particular attention to the reaction of both Jane and Mr. Bingley upon seeing each other and was most gratified to see their eyes light up and witness the difficulty both of them had in tearing their gaze from each other.

Unfortunately, Mamá recovered her voice all too soon. "Mr. Bingley! You sly thing! Here you planned to follow Jane all the way to Derbyshire and never a word of it when last we visited."

"Mamá!" Jane and I both said in unison.

"How nice to see you again, Mr. Bingley," Mrs. Gardiner interjected smoothly, drawing him into the room. Her husband quickly stepped in, as well, and engaged him in a discussion of the road conditions. From then on, it was as though an unspoken agreement arose between my aunt and uncle, Mr. Darcy, and Jane and me to spare Mr. Bingley further conversation with my mother, a task most arduous, indeed.

The inclement weather forced the men to spend most of the coming days indoors, whereupon they made frequent use of Mr. Darcy's library and billiards room. Georgiana and I prevailed upon our female guests to assist us in trimming the Yule log with greenery in anticipation of its being lit on Christmas Eve. We also strung apples, twigs, and ribbons to decorate the holly bough so that it would be ready to hang from the ceiling in the main drawing room. We spent no little time in the stillroom selecting holly, ivy, bay and rosemary with which to adorn the house, and soon the fragrant herbal aromas permeated Pemberley in a most pleasing manner.

Mamá insisted upon adding mistletoe to the holly bough even though it had been long considered a "kissing-bough" without that accessory. "It will not hurt to provide added encouragement to the holiday tradition," she said, winking and raising her eyebrows in Jane's direction several times. I simply closed my eyes and shook my head, embarrassed for Jane's mortification, and yet helpless to control my mother. We would be fortunate if we got through the holidays without Mamá proposing to Mr. Bingley upon Jane's behalf!

Each evening in the privacy of our bedchambers, I asked my husband if he had yet spoken to Mr. Bingley and each evening he replied in the negative. After three days of this, his recalcitrant manner began to grate on my nerves and my nightly nagging did little to endear me to him.

"Elizabeth," he said quite forcefully on the third night, "do not ask me about this again. I shall speak to Bingley when the time is right."

"But when shall that be? You have put this off for months, William, and now you have been in daily contact with him and still you remain silent." I had just climbed into his bed and he blew out the candles before joining me.

"I promised you I would do it. Will you now trust me to keep my word?" The anger in his voice was unmistakable, his tone sharp; I knew I needed to back down, that I had pushed far enough. I said nothing, but the look I gave him before he extinguished the final light was full of fire. I lay down and turned on my side away from him, biting my tongue when he lay beside me. I resolved to remain silent. If he forbade me to speak on the subject again, I would not speak at all. Righteous anger caused me to swell up like a toad, and when I think back upon it now, I am grateful we lay in darkness for I am certain I was not a pretty sight.

We remained in silence for some time. I was far too angry to go to sleep and I sensed he encountered similar difficulty. Pulling the cover over my shoulders, I tossed around several times, attempting to find a comfortable position, and made certain my disgruntled sighs were quite audible. He did not move, but his breathing revealed he was awake. After none of my obviously angry actions provoked the desired apology from him, I scooted as close to the edge of the bed as possible. I lay there miserable for some time; finally I sat up, turned back the cover and threw my legs over the side.

"Elizabeth? What are you doing?" He immediately sat up.

"Returning to my chamber," I said evenly.

"Is there something you need from your room? Shall I light a candle?"

"The only thing I need is my own bed."

"Whatever for?"

"How can you ask that, sir? I shall never go to sleep in this mood and neither shall you. I think it best that we sleep apart tonight."

"I do not agree. I wish for you to remain in my bed, and I ask you to respect my wishes."

Oh, how superior he sounds! I thought. I sat there, beginning to fume and willing my voice not to betray my feelings. "I suppose you consider this an excellent opportunity for me to obey you."

"You may choose to perceive it in that manner, but I see it as an opportunity for you to be gracious and indulge my preference."

"And am I to remain awake throughout the night just to be deemed gracious and indulgent in your sight?"

"I said nothing about remaining awake, Elizabeth. I want you to lie down and sleep beside me as you have done ever since we truly became husband and wife."

The reminder of our union was not lost on me. I had reveled in our oneness, thrilled that he loved me and gave me such pleasure, for he was a patient, generous lover. Tonight, however, it was not enough to erase the harsh words that had passed between us. "I fail to see how I shall ever sleep tonight if I remain here."

He rose from bed and lit a candle on a nearby table. "I find a good book helps me fall asleep and I know you have employed a similar habit in the past. Let me read to you."

Read to me? What was he thinking?

With great curiosity, I watched him walk across the room and select a book from among the myriad assortment on his shelves. When he returned to the bed, I was shocked to see that he held a Bible in his hands.

Is it his intent to preach to me? Oh, happy thought, indeed!

William took his time finding the passage he sought and then he laid it aside and looked into my eyes with a look that no longer contained anger. I turned away from his gaze, unwilling to let my wrath be so easily appeased.

"Elizabeth, have I ever told you of when my mother died?"

This new subject took me completely by surprise. I shook my head slightly.

"I was barely fourteen years old and Georgiana very young. My mother had been ill since my sister's birth and enjoyed scant days of good health from that time on. It was as though she had been dying for more than two years. That last week my father bade me go in to see her alone, at her request. She told me she loved me and how proud of me she was, and then..." his voice almost broke, "she told me she would not be here to see me grow up and that was one thing she regretted most about leaving this world. She said she longed to see me a bridegroom and meet the woman who would be my wife. Then she had me retrieve her Bible and she instructed me to turn to several passages she knew by heart. First, she warned me to look for a good woman, for she impressed upon me that marriage is for life and I would find myself miserable if I did not heed the words of King Solomon."

He handed me the book and pointed out two verses in Proverbs. I read aloud:

'The contentions of a wife are a continual dropping...It is better to dwell in a corner of the housetop, than with a brawling woman in a wide house.'

I glared at him. "Perhaps you should have paid closer attention to your mother's admonition."

Taking the Bible from me, he smiled. "No, I listened well, for she told me to turn to the final chapter of that same book. There she showed me the type of woman I should seek and I found her:

'Who can find a virtuous woman, for her price is far above rubies? The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil.'

"My heart trusts in you, Elizabeth. Will you not allow your heart to trust in me?"

I looked away, moved both by the passage he read and the tenderness of his own declaration. Stubbornness still reigned in my heart, however, and so I spoke in a somewhat flippant manner. "I did not know you were a biblical scholar, sir."

"Hardly, although I have read the book at my mother's insistence. I am no sermon-maker, Elizabeth, just a simple man trying to learn how to be a husband to the only woman in this world I shall ever love."

I caught my breath when I looked up and saw the look in his eyes. "William, that is not fair."

"What is not fair?" he said lazily, taking my hand in his.

"How can I remain angry when you say such words and look at me in that way?"

He smiled again. "That is my intent, dearest little wife."

I looked away and sighed, knowing I would succumb to his charms like butter melts in the noonday sun. I resolved, however, not to make it easy for him and searched my brain for something neutral upon which to speak, delaying his victory as long as possible. "I should have liked to have known your mother."

"She would have loved you."

"She gave you dissimilar advice about marriage from that my mother gave me."

"Oh? And what did your mother tell you, or do I want to know?"

"She told me to do anything and everything you asked, to never refuse you, to keep you happy, and that way I would be sure to receive a generous amount of pin money."

He laughed aloud, his dimples gracing his countenance in that boyish way that always made me smile. "I believe I quite like your mother's advice and it is not as dissimilar as you might think, for she referenced the Bible, as well."

"Now there you are mistaken, sir. I know for a fact my mother knows but little of the book and she has absorbed even less from the vicar's sermons, for I have watched her struggle in vain to stay awake each Sunday morn."

"But in her own way she quotes St. Paul." William took the Bible from me and turned the pages. "Listen to this from the Corinthian letter:

'The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband...defraud ye not one the other.'

"Yes, I do like your mother's advice."

"Let me see that," I demanded, reaching for the book.

He held it up out of my reach. "What? Do you not trust me, good wife?"

I rose up on my knees and reached for it again, but his arms were much longer than mine, and I consequently fell against him and into his lap. "William, let me read it, for I believe you are making that up."

He held me close to him with one arm and we tussled together, now laughing until I was too weak to keep trying. "Let me see it, I pray you," I finally said, but in a much more gentle voice.

He continued to hold it aloft. "Only if you take back what you just said - you must say that you believe me, that you will always believe your lord and master as befits an obedient wife."

I lunged for the book again, but he proved faster and stronger. "Very well, I believe you. Now will you let me see it?"

"What is the need? You said you believed me."

"William! I wish to read it for myself."

He smiled again and began to kiss my cheek, working his way down to my ear and that spot on my neck just below that he knew pleasured me greatly. In doing so, he lowered his hand and I grabbed the Bible. Although it was difficult to concentrate when he continued to trail kisses up and down my neck, I lay back on his pillow and held the book close to the candle until I found the passage he had read.

"Aha! Just as I thought, husband, you neglected to read all of St. Paul's sermon. Listen to this:

'Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence...and likewise also the husband hath not power of his own body, but the wife!'

"There, I knew there was more to it than you read. What say you to that?"

"Far be it from me to quarrel with St. Paul." He now lay beside me, his voice soft and low. "I give you complete power over my body and I shall be glad to render due benevolence unto you, my dearest, darling little wife."

I closed the book and placed it on the table. Who was I to argue with a saint?

Chapter 15

Christmas Eve arrived before we knew it. The day was spent in a flurry of activities. The decorated holly-bough was hung from the ceiling in the main drawing room and that evening Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley carried in the huge, gaily trimmed Yule log as our guests and I applauded its arrival. The youngest of the Gardiners' sons ran and sat upon it before anyone else could and so he was commended for his efforts by assurances of much good luck awaiting him in the coming new year. Mr. Darcy gave him a gold coin to begin the cycle and his brother and sisters crowded around him, exclaiming over it. My husband then lit the new log with the saved end of last year's Yule log that he and Georgiana had burned at Pemberley and our roaring Christmas fire blazed.

Merriment and joyous cries of "Happy Christmas" could be heard all around. Georgiana carried in the Christmas candle and, after lighting it, placed it upon the mantel. It was an exceptionally large taper in order to burn through the night. The adults filled their glasses from the wassail bowl and the children were provided with cups of hot cider. When all had been served, Mr. Darcy stood before the fireplace and asked for our attention.

"My friends and family, I wish you all a Happy Christmas. May the new year bring each of us joy, prosperity and happiness. I drink to your health." He downed his glass and then Mr. Gardiner said, "And to yours, Mr. Darcy," whereupon Mr. Bingley chimed in, "Hear, hear."

As we sipped from our glasses, I rejoiced that we were all together in this beautiful home at the dearest time of the year. I also rejoiced to hear Mr. Bingley echo his support of my husband, for I had noticed a definite coolness upon his part the last two days. William had told me that he at last informed Mr. Bingley of his part in concealing Jane's presence in town last winter, and he apologized for ever attempting to dissuade him from courting her. Mr. Bingley was quite angry when he learned the truth and there had been little conversation between the two friends since their talk.

"In truth, my dear," William said to me, "I know not whether Bingley is angrier with me about my concealment or because I took him to task regarding his lack of ardor toward Miss Bennet. I told him he needed to stand up and be a man. If he truly loves your sister, he should not let anything his sisters or I said keep him from declaring his intentions. He does not need my blessing."

"And what did he say to that?" I asked.

"He became somewhat defensive and placed the blame on my shoulders, for he said I had convinced him Jane Bennet did not care for him. I, in turn, told him he should be strong enough to keep his own counsel and discover the truth for himself. I believe he had already reached that conclusion before we spoke, for he did travel to Netherfield last month without asking my opinion. Perhaps his feelings for your sister will be the making of Bingley."

By Christmas Eve all seemed mended, as Mr. Bingley's endearing amiability had returned. With respectful forbearance, he endured Mamá's pointed remarks whenever Jane strayed within five feet of the kissing bough and I noted he was rarely far from her side.

The Gardiners' young daughters each stood below the bough and were promptly bussed by their father, who then lifted them up to retrieve a berry from the decorative holly. This was met with laughter and frivolity and much teasing by their brothers that "no other man will ever kiss them." Kitty caused them to cease their torment by standing beneath the holly-bough, herself, whereupon each of the little boys was goaded into claiming a kiss, one on either of her cheeks. Mortification reigned supreme upon their blushing young faces, but it served its purpose as they no longer beleaguered their sisters.

We played games with the children and gave each of them a small gift and the room was soon littered with tiny scraps of gold paper. At last their nanny ushered them off to bed, having fed them earlier. That was the signal for the adults to enter the dining room and sit down to our Christmas Eve dinner, only the beginning of many feasts we would partake of during the twelve days of Christmastide. After dinner, Mr. Darcy surprised me by asking Georgiana and Mary to take turns playing for us so that we might dance. The servants pushed back the chairs in the music room and we soon began a rollicking reel. Each time we passed beneath the mistletoe, Mr. Darcy would steal a quick kiss from me, to the delight of my younger sisters. I could not believe with what ease he entered into the frivolity of the season. Mr. Gardiner did the same with his wife and we laughed at how she blushed.

"Bingley, it is now your turn," Mr. Darcy called as his friend danced my oldest sister down the row. I caught my breath, shocked at my husband's rare audacity, and wondered if Mr. Bingley would carry through on his suggestion. He did! And I could not say who was pinker, Jane, Mr. Bingley or my mother, for she laughed and cheered so much so that her countenance turned positively rosy. Suddenly, I had the strongest yearning for my father's presence. Oh, he would have sat by the fire, shaking his head at the "silliest young women in England," but he would smile that smile of his and I would see the light in his eyes when he gazed upon my mother. Tonight I could see what attracted him to her all those years ago, for she appeared as much of a girl as any of her daughters. I sensed that her laughter and light-hearted spirit had attracted the cynical nature of my father, adding a dimension to his life he had never experienced before.

The next morning we rose early to attend Christmas church services. The small sanctuary was filled with people I had come to know since moving to Derbyshire, and our neighbours hailed us with smiles and greetings of "Happy Christmas." As I sat in the pew between my husband and young sister-in-law and listened to the vicar read the old familiar story, a stream of sunlight beamed through the stained glass windows and bathed our family in its warmth. I was extremely grateful for how good God had been to me that year...a year in which I had known the greatest heartache in my life and yet the greatest happiness.

~ * ~

On Boxing Day Georgiana and I had just completed wrapping the last of the servants' boxes when I heard a shriek echo from above stairs, a familiar sound I recognized as my mother's voice. Georgiana's eyes widened in wonder and we both ran up the stairs.

"Mamá!" I cried, upon entering her sitting room. "What is wrong?"

"Wrong? Oh, Lizzy, nothing is wrong! Everything is right in the world!" She reclined upon a chaise and Jane sat beside her, fanning her with a kerchief. From the looks on their faces, I had little doubt of what had happened.

"Jane?" I asked, stretching out her name.

She jumped up and embraced me. "Oh, Lizzy, he loves me. Mr. Bingley loves me."

"Well, of course he does!"

"Oh, I cannot believe it! He wants to marry me! He has gone to my uncle this very moment."

By that time Mary, Kitty and Mrs. Gardiner had rushed into the room and there was such a commotion that some of the servants put in an appearance to see what was the matter.

"When did he ask you?" Kitty asked.

"Did he kneel down?" Georgiana wanted to know.

"When is the wedding?" Mary added.

Jane tried her best to answer each of their questions, but they came with such haste, it was nigh impossible. Mrs. Gardiner eventually managed to shush everyone and allowed Jane to tell us the details.

"He asked me this morning, only a short time ago."

"I knew it would happen!" Mamá interrupted. "I knew you could not be so beautiful for nothing!"

"Where did it happen?" I asked.

"We took a stroll around your garden, Lizzy. Yesterday's sun melted some of the snow and the wind died, so it was quite pleasant out of doors."

"And that is possibly the only place you could be alone, am I not correct?" I asked, laughing.

She smiled and nodded. "He said he has loved me ever since he first came to Netherfield. He did not know I was in London last winter, Aunt. That is why he never called at Gracechurch Street. I do not understand why Caroline or Mrs. Hurst did not tell him, but it is no matter now. All is made right, for he wants us to be married as soon as possible, Mamá."

"Oh, yes, you must be married by special licence, my dear. I am sure Mr. Bingley can see to it, and we will hold the wedding in Longbourne Church. How about in April when the first lilies begin to bloom?"

"How about in February before anything blooms?" I interjected. "That way Jane will be the most beautiful flower in the county."

"February!" Mamá cried. "Oh, no! I cannot possibly plan a wedding by February. We shall have to travel to town for gowns, for that is where all the best warehouses are, and with the inclement weather this time of year, we cannot depend upon getting it all done that soon."

"Why not meet in the middle," Mrs. Gardiner suggested, "and marry in March?"

Jane's eyes lit up and Mamá was soon persuaded to agree. The remainder of the morning was spent in countless re-telling of the entire proposal scene and my mother's endless wedding plans.

~ * ~

That evening Georgiana and I joined Mr. Darcy in the great old hall where we had held the Harvest Ball. All of the servants assembled and after enjoying a feast of venison and turkey, we handed out their gifts. The majority of the boxes held money, of course, the most prized contribution we could give them, but I had selected a singular gift for Fiona. Before our guests arrived to spend Christmas with us, Mr. Darcy and I had spent a day shopping in a neighbouring town. There I had chosen a small gift for Georgiana and others for my sisters and mother when I came across a shawl trimmed with a lovely piece of Irish lace. For some reason it made me think of Fiona, delicate, pretty and yet serviceable, exactly like her. I resolved to purchase it for her then and there. We had already prepared a box of money for her and Georgiana previously found a small toy for Willie, but I wanted to give the maid something special, something just from me.

I now drew her aside in the great hall and offered her the wrapped parcel.

"But Mistress, the Master has already given me my box."

"I know, but this is from me."

Her eyes grew big with wonder as she undid the string and opened the package. "Oh, Ma'am, it is beautiful, truly beautiful!" she said, as she held the lace in her hands. "I have never had anything so fine. Thank you, Ma'am, oh, thank you!"

"You are welcome, Fiona. I believe it was made for you."

She reached out and took my hands in hers, squeezing them, a bold move for a servant, but one I welcomed. I had wronged the girl within my mind and even though this gift did not make right what I had done, it gave her pleasure and I sincerely wanted her to have it. As she curtseyed and walked away to join Betty and Willie and show them her treasure, I looked up and caught Mr. Darcy watching us. Our eyes met and I could feel the warmth of his approval.

We enjoyed mutual approval of each other and nary a discordant word between us during the remaining days of Christmastide, a marvelous feat I rejoiced in, seeing that we endured a house full of company for close to three weeks. Our festivities culminated with the celebration of Twelfth Night. Our closest neighbours, the Darnleys and Ashtons, joined our guests that evening. It was an evening for masks and playacting, an event that required I use all of my powers of persuasion on my dear husband to cause to come about.

"Elizabeth," he said, "we have not observed Twelfth Night in such a manner since I was a child."

"All the more reason to do so this year."

He did not agree with my argument, protesting the masks in particular but he allowed it, perhaps because of my gentle persuasion. Slowly I was learning the man could be more easily swayed by honey than vinegar.

Mamá was almost as excited as Kitty and Georgiana about the thought of a masked evening and she questioned Mr. Darcy thoroughly as to whether either of his neighbours had eligible sons among their family. He thrilled her by announcing that Edward Darnley was an excellent young man and his older brother, as well, and they would be in attendance that evening. She was not quite so thrilled to learn that Mr. Ashton had a pretty daughter whom young Edward was courting.

"But you say there is an elder brother," Mamá said, pursing her lips. "Even better. We shall make what we can of the opportunity." She then went in search of Kitty and Mary to oversee their gowns and masks for the evening. Even this blatant vulgarity on my mother's part did not dissuade Mr. Darcy's good mood, however, and I marveled each day as to how tolerant of my family's foibles he had grown.

I made several trips to the kitchen before the party, personally overseeing the décor of the Twelfth Night cake. I was glad to see that Cook had not disappointed me. The sugar frosting and gilded paper trimmings transformed it into a sight to behold.

"And did you remember to include a bean and pea within before baking?" I asked.

"Yes, Ma'am," Cook replied. "It is just as you ordered."

The old custom had not been observed at Pemberley for many years, but I wished to reinstate it and as I was now mistress of the house, I made that decision on my own. The beautiful cake was brought in and placed as the centerpiece of the dining table. That night, after music and a clumsy but hilarious theatrical of A Midsummer's Night Dream playacted by the younger members of the family, we sat down to a lavish dinner of boar's head and turkey, plum pudding and gingerbread. Then the cake was cut and everyone served a piece. It seemed quite fitting that Mr. Darcy found the bean contained in his slice of cake and thus served as king for the night; however, we were all in uproar when Mamá discovered the pea in her serving and was proclaimed queen for the evening. They took their "thrones" (chairs that Georgiana and Kitty had decorated with garlands of white paper flowers) in the smaller ballroom and from there we were obliged to do any and everything they commanded.

I knew Mr. Darcy was born for the role, but he had his hands full when Mamá ordered him around along with everyone else. Her natural proclivity for being in command only added to his dismay. She decreed that Mary should play a jig and Mr. Darcy and I should lead the dance. She then paired the remaining unmarried couples, beginning with Jane and Mr. Bingley, of course, and ending with Kitty and the Darnley's older son. A jig was not Mr. Darcy's cup of tea and certainly not in front of his neighbours, but he carried through nonetheless. After it was over, flushed from the exercise, he made his own law.

"I decree that the king shall not be commanded to dance again this night!" He retired to his throne and welcomed a glass of wine Georgiana fetched for him.

By the time our guests departed at the end of the evening and we retired to our chambers, my husband was only too glad to be alone with me behind closed doors. I commended him for his forbearance during the party and, indeed, throughout the extended visit from my family and Mr. Bingley.

"Do not praise me too highly, Elizabeth, for if truth be known, I look forward to the morrow when they shall leave Pemberley and we shall have our house to ourselves."

I fingered the chain of perfect emeralds around my neck, the Christmas gift he had given me, and thought how truly generous a man I had married. Earlier, Fiona helped me change into my nightgown and robe and brushed out my hair, but I told her to leave the necklace, that I would take it off myself, for I knew the colour flattered my eyes. Now, I joined him before the fireplace in his chamber and slipped my arms around his neck.

"Praise does not exist high enough for you, William. You are truly the best of men."

He smiled and gazed into my eyes, took me into his arms and kissed me tenderly before speaking. "I am far from that, my love, but I believe I do deserve some commendation. This Christmastide has been, by far, the liveliest either Pemberley or I have experienced. I truly hope for a quieter time the remainder of January."

"My poor darling." I rested my head against his chest. "I am afraid you shall rue the day you ever brought me into your house."

"Elizabeth! How can you say that?" He held me at arms' length where we could face each other.

"You must admit I have disrupted your life entirely. And when you married me, you acquired a bag full of relatives that I know have tried you sorely and shall continue to do so."

He shook his head. "You are wrong. My life was not one of contentment before you came into it, but rather loneliness and tedium. Oh, I had friends enough, my home, my place in society, but none of it meant anything nor could it ever mean anything to me again without you. And yes, your family is interesting, but I now take them as they are and I am grateful for them."

"Grateful? Jane, perhaps, and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, but surely you are not grateful for all of them."

"I am," he said, pulling me onto his lap as he sat on the sofa before the fire. "For without them, there would be no Elizabeth, no dearest, loveliest Elizabeth. You are a part of them and they of you, and I would not have it any other way."

I began to kiss him then, softly at first, tenderly caressing his lips until our passion caught fire and soon blazed brighter and higher than the flames before which we sat.

~ * ~

If I said that Mr. Darcy and I never had another cross word between us, it would be false, for as married couples throughout time have known, it is impossible to live with someone and always agree. And seeing that we were of different temperaments, we still had much to overcome in a relatively new marriage. The next such difficulty arrived a short time after Georgiana's seventeenth birthday.

She had been much cheered with a house full of guests during the holidays, but once they left, her spirits dampened. She spent many hours at the pianoforte or reading. The only time I saw her countenance brighten was when she or Mr. Darcy received a letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam. Upon receipt of a personal letter to her, she would vanish to read it in private, but when a missive arrived for her brother, she would search for him throughout the house and urge him to immediately read it aloud. I grew more and more anxious as to her reaction when Richard revealed his plans to leave the country.

My foreboding was not in vain.

The colonel arrived the day before Georgiana's birthday, January 30th, and he spent ten days with us, days in which the weather turned bitterly cold and forced us to keep to the house the majority of time. The day before he was to return to his regiment, however, we were blessed with a beautiful, sunny morning. The wind stilled, the temperature rose, and the warmth of the sun felt like heaven's kiss shining upon my face. After breakfast, Mr. Darcy suggested he and the colonel go riding and when Georgiana asked to be included, he agreed. I begged off, as I had not felt well the past few days, and assured my husband I would be content to curl up by the fire with a new novel he recently brought me from the bookstore in Lambton. They were gone for much of the day and I found myself enjoying the unusual solitude. I slept some and by the time they returned, I felt better, a fortunate turn of events, for I needed all my resources to deal with the tempest that blew into our house with the arrival of my sister-in-law.

"Oh, Richard, I cannot believe this! I refuse to believe it!" she cried.

"Georgie, pray listen to me," he pleaded to no avail, for she ran past the drawing room and up the staircase to her room, her sobs evident for all to hear.

I rose from my chair before the fire and walked to the doorway, frowning and worried. "Richard? What has happened? Is someone hurt?"

He started up the stairs, but stopped at my words and the addition of Mr. Darcy, who walked in from outside. I had never seen such worry upon the colonel's expression before and feared that something terrible had happened. I was relieved to see that all three of them were not injured as far as I could tell.

"Her behaviour is insupportable!" William exclaimed. "Why should she be so distressed?"

"Will someone tell me what is the matter?" I asked again.

Both gentlemen accompanied me into the drawing room so that we would no longer discuss matters in front of the servants. William threw his gloves and hat on a small table and began to pace back and forth. "I must go to her. I shall tell her she is acting like a child."

"William, Richard, one of you must tell me what is wrong with Georgiana?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed and gave me a long look. "I told her I would leave for Spain next week."

"Oh, Richard, that soon?"

He nodded and William stopped pacing. "I fail to see why this upsets my sister so. She knows you are an officer and the army is sent abroad from time to time. Does she expect you to be exempt from your duties? Why, Fitz, you were in France a few years ago and I do not remember Georgiana having a strong reaction."

"Perhaps she was not old enough then to think of the danger," I said. "She now is aware that the colonel will face the enemy when he goes to Spain."

"There is little chance of my actual fighting. In my position I usually remain with other commanding officers, overseeing things from a safe distance. Georgie need have little worry for my safety."

"Should you not go up and reassure her?" I suggested.

"No," William announced. "I shall deal with Georgiana. I will not have her behave in this manner." He began to walk toward the door.

"William," I said quickly, "why not let me go to her? A woman's touch may be what she requires right now."

He looked at me just long enough to listen, but shook his head. "You may go after I am done, Elizabeth. For now, I want to know what is at the bottom of all this." With that, he walked out the door and we could hear his rapid ascent up the stairs.

"Oh, I do wish he had listened to me." I sank down upon the sofa. "Colonel, must you truly go? Can you not see that Georgiana will be lost without you?"

"I cannot stay. Once orders are given, there is no going back, and besides, I still think it best that I leave."

"But why? I confess I do not truly understand your reasoning."

"Elizabeth, I have thought about this for a long time, dwelt upon it, in fact. I am sixteen years Georgiana's senior. I remember holding her as a babe; she was the most beautiful child I had ever seen. That is all she was to me for the longest time, my dearest little cousin, and then when her father died and he named me guardian along with Darcy, I felt even closer to her and I suppose more protective, if that is possible. She has always been like a little bird, tiny and fragile. Like Darce, I, too, longed to keep her locked up somewhere...somewhere no one could ever hurt her. But we failed. We both failed." He walked to the window and stared out through the trees at the sunlight now fading.

"Richard, you cannot hold yourself responsible for what happened to Georgiana with Mr. Wickham. You and William did all that you could to provide a safe environment for her. It is neither your fault nor his that all of you were deceived."

"I acknowledge the truth of your statement in my mind, but somehow my heart refuses to accept it. All I know is that when she was recovered and brought back, Georgiana was no longer a child in my eyes. Oh, I still tease her; I think I call her 'Sprout' to cover my own feelings, to try to convince myself she is still but a girl and has not blossomed into a young woman. I confess I have seldom seen a face or figure more pleasing to me than hers, but I am a partial old friend. I love to look at her...indeed, I could look at her forever for I have fallen in love with her." He stood half in shadow. The fading sunlight was just enough that I could see the anguish upon his countenance.

I rose and joined him at the window. "And is it inconceivable that she may love you as well?"

He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "Of course she loves me. We have loved each other as cousins all our lives, but no, she is not old enough to know what mature love is, to return the measure of devotion I feel. Do you not see, Elizabeth, that I cannot place that burden upon her? She needs time...her time in the sun...and with you as her sister, I know she will have it. Oh, Darce will fight you right and left, but you must be strong for her. Work your charm on him and make him see that he must let her go. When she comes out in the spring, he must not discourage the young men who call, only make certain they are worthy. I am not courageous enough for the task and that is why I must leave. But you can, Elizabeth, and you can make Darcy accept it. Let Georgiana have her chance."

"Do you not fear the possibility she may accept a suitor and marry?"

He stared at the floor but not before I saw him wince. "I do," he said, his voice barely audible. "Perchance that would be best. I want her to fall in love, to know the ecstasy and misery such feelings cause, and yet I cannot bring myself to witness it. You and Darcy must sustain her through this."

I put my hand on his arm, for I longed to comfort him somehow. If my heart broke to witness this sacrifice, what must he feel? "I shall do what I can, Richard," I said softly, but I did not feel it would be near enough.

William walked into the room just then. "Elizabeth, she wants you."

I nodded and left them, wondering what had transpired between brother and sister. Upstairs I found a subdued, chastened young girl with tearstains still on her face. I poured some water into a basin, moistened a cloth and gently bathed her face. "Can I help you, Georgiana?"

She shook her head and sighed. "Wills says I act like a spoilt child and I know he is right. I do not understand why I am so upset. Richard has gone away time and again and he has always come back. He will return this time, will he not?"

"Of course," I said quickly. I did not want to bring up the chances a soldier takes in war no matter how lightly Richard dismissed them, and I hoped she would not think of them.

"It is just that I am so afraid to face my debut in town without him."

"Your brother and I will be with you, Georgiana, as well as Lord and Lady Matlock. You do not have to do it alone."

"I know that, but Wills cannot dance with me. Richard could and he is a divine dancer."

I turned away and closed my eyes, acknowledging then that the colonel was correct. In many ways Georgiana was still so young, her greatest worry whom she would dance with. "There will be many young men who will dance with you."

"Will there? What if no one asks me?"

I smiled. "You worry in vain. I am sure you will be vastly popular."

"Oh, no, I do not wish to be popular. The thought of making conversation with all those strangers frightens me exceedingly. With Richard there, I should always have someone at my side. If I felt alarmed by one who asked for my hand, I could dance with him instead. Elizabeth, I do not know why I say all this or why his leaving upsets me so. I am confused."

"Welcome to growing up, my dear." I patted her hand.

"I thought confusion never plagued adults, that they always know what is best."

"In truth? Hardly ever. That is a myth we tell children. Now that I am grown, I know it only too well."

The faint semblance of a smile played about her countenance and I embraced her. "All will be well, Georgiana. I truly believe that." She rose from the bed then and, after drying her face, accompanied me to below stairs. The evening progressed without further unpleasantness, although both Georgiana and the colonel remained unusually subdued. She agreed to play his favourite selections on the pianoforte and I noticed the wistful, yearning expression in his eyes as he watched her performance.

Later that night in the drawing room, however, after Richard and Georgiana had retired Mr. Darcy returned to the earlier incident. "Elizabeth, did you learn what was behind Georgiana's ill pleasure this afternoon? She made little sense to me."

I closed my eyes and prayed for wisdom. I desired to be honest with my husband and yet I did not want to betray Richard's confidence. "I think Georgiana is simply afraid of the future. She expressed qualms regarding her coming out in the spring and especially without Richard by her side. She relies on him more than we know."

"They have always enjoyed a close camaraderie, but surely she understands he cannot entirely shield her from society's perusal. And does she not consider me adequate protection against any roués or rakes who come calling?"

"Oh, I am certain you will do all that is necessary in that regard. Perhaps even more than is necessary," I added under my breath.

Unfortunately, he heard me. "Elizabeth, do I detect a complaint in that last remark?"

"Not a complaint, sir, just a statement of fact."

"I do not understand."

"William, you know you are far too protective of Georgiana. I fear the coming season shall prove difficult for you."

"How can you say that? After what happened with Wickham, how can I be too protective?"

"I was fifteen when that happened, Wills," Georgiana said, startling both of us by her return.

"We thought you had retired, dear," I said quickly.

"I came back for a book I left over there." She crossed the room to the chair in which she had sat earlier. "And Wills, I am no longer that same girl. Must I suffer for it the rest of my life?"

"Georgiana," he said forcefully, "I did not mean to infer in any way that you were responsible. Let us drop the subject."

"But I was responsible. When will you or Richard ever accept that? I listened to Mr. Wickham's flattery; I allowed myself to be seduced by his pretty words; I knew that elopement was not the proper way in which to marry, and yet I agreed to it. He is not the only one at fault."

"Georgiana!" Mr. Darcy's voice rose. "We shall not discuss this further. You know my wishes on the subject."

"Yes, I do," she replied in a barely audible voice, obviously chastened, "but do you know mine, Wills? Has anyone other than Elizabeth ever asked me about my feelings?"

"Elizabeth?" He turned to glare at me. "Have you discussed that unforgivable occurrence with my sister in direct contradiction to my orders?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but Georgiana interrupted. "Only when I brought it up, Wills. Do not blame Elizabeth."

"I do not want the incident spoken of again. Do I make myself clear?" His tone sounded deadly.

Georgiana nodded and keeping her eyes on the floor, she sat down on the sofa and began to cry quietly. I started toward her when Mr. Darcy spoke again. "Elizabeth, do you understand me?"

I turned and glared at him and wanted to cry, Only too well, sir! And do you understand that you are the most obstinate man who ever lived? But I swallowed my ire and nodded. We both turned our faces from each other and I bit my tongue until I could taste blood. Remember, 'a soft answer turneth away wrath,' I repeated to myself, for I had begun spending time in the Old Testament book of Proverbs since learning it had been a favourite of Mr. Darcy's mother. I walked to the sofa and sat beside Georgiana, taking her hand in mine. By that time I had regulated my breathing and I lowered my tone before I spoke.

"William, I pray you will hear what I say. Neither Georgiana nor I set out to go against your wishes."

"Oh, no, Wills," Georgiana added. "We would never do that. It is just that..."

"Just what?" he demanded.

"Sometimes I think Richard may be leaving because of what...you will not allow me to speak of."

"My dear," I said. "What say you? That misfortune has nothing to do with Richard leaving."

"It may, Elizabeth. After I returned from Ramsgate, I sensed a difference in him. Oh, he is the same in his affection and care, but at times I find him looking at me in an unusual manner, as though I am no longer myself. I feel damaged, that I shall never be good enough again in either Richard's or William's eyes, so how can I be good enough to face society?"

"Oh, no." I put my arms around her, as she began to cry anew. "You are wrong, dearest. William, tell her she is wrong."

He joined us immediately and took her into his arms, cradling her head upon his chest. "Georgiana, do not cry. Elizabeth is correct. You are not damaged. You are as beautiful and whole and innocent as before it ever happened."

"I am not innocent, Wills," she said between sobs. "I allowed Mr. Wickham to...to kiss me and more than once."

William's eyes met mine and I saw greater anger flash within his. I tried desperately to signal him not to react in that manner by slightly shaking my head. When he remained silent, I knew that he could not speak without saying more than he should, and so I spoke in his place. "Georgiana, is that all? Is a kiss all that happened between you and Mr. Wickham?"

"Why, yes, of course, but is that not bad enough?"

"It is enough." I met William's relieved expression with my own. "But no real harm has occurred. And you are mistaken in taking the blame. Compared to Mr. Wickham, you were an innocent child and he took advantage of your naivety, he and Mrs. Younge. I know of Mr. Wickham's charm only too well for I, too, was fooled by it in the past."

She turned away from her brother to look at me. "You, Elizabeth?"

When I nodded, he interrupted. "This does not need to be spoken of. I want the discussion to end."

"Wills, I pray you," Georgiana said and I was surprised at the depth of pleading in her tone. "I need to know how Mr. Wickham prevailed upon Elizabeth...that is, if she is willing to tell me."

"But why?" He looked totally bewildered. "Why must you speak of a subject that evokes nothing but pain?"

"To be heard," I said gently. "To know we are not alone in our foolishness. Sir, this is what women do. It is, perhaps, our fate rather than our merit. We cannot help ourselves. We live at home, quiet, confined, and our feelings prey upon us. You are forced on exertion. You have always pursuits, business of some sort or other to take you back into the world immediately, and continual occupation and change soon weaken impressions. You need not talk of such things, but you must allow us."

William looked at me as though I spoke a foreign language; to his credit, however, he made no further demand, but stalked across the room to stare out the window. I took Georgiana's hand and began to tell her the story of when I first met Mr. Wickham in Meryton and of how I, as well as most of the folk in Hertfordshire, believed the false story he spread about her brother. She was horrified, of course.

"When did you learn the truth, Elizabeth?"

"Last Easter when I visited in Kent. William wrote me a letter and told me of Mr. Wickham's true nature."

"Was that the letter I saw you re-reading in your chamber when Wills was in London?"

I nodded and saw Mr. Darcy turn directly toward me, a question in his eyes. He did not interrupt us, though, and I continued telling how Mr. Wickham had seduced my youngest sister last summer and how he never would have married her if not for Mr. Darcy's generous intervention. She looked at her brother with new admiration. "So that is what caused you to leave Pemberley with such haste last July."

He did not reply and turned back to the window, but I nodded in agreement with her statement.

"Can you now understand, Georgiana, that you were not at fault to believe Mr. Wickham? The man is a master at deception and your admiration was based on lies, but perfectly understandable."

"Do you think Richard shares your acquittal of me?"

"Of course he does," William said quickly. "You must never believe that you were at fault again, Georgiana, not in mine or Elizabeth's eyes, and certainly not in Fitzwilliam's. Shall we now let the incident die once and for all?"

He had left the window and come to stand before us. Taking Georgiana's hands, he lifted her to meet his gaze. "Yes, Wills," she said, "but please allow Elizabeth and me to sort things out from now on. If you truly want us to be sisters, grant us this comfort and no longer declare that certain topics will not be mentioned in this house."

Mr. Darcy sighed and nodded ever so slightly in agreement, but after his sister left the room, I watched his brows knit together in a frown and I could see how he struggled to repress his emotions. Georgiana's request went against all that he had ever known. He had spent his entire life avoiding discussion of personal subjects, as his father before him, but now his young sister asked for her independence from such censure, and he was only too aware it had come about because of my influence.

With a somewhat weary gesture, he sat down in a large chair before the fire, leaned back, his hand upon his mouth, while he stared at the flames. I knelt before him and took his other hand in mine. "Are you angry with me, William?"

He shook his head, but his expression did not change and he continued to gaze at the fire.

"You do believe I have had undue influence upon your sister, do you not?" When he made no response, I continued. "I might remind you that is the reason you married me. You asked that my lively ways might somehow affect her spirits."

He met my eyes. "That was the reason I gave for marrying you, but we both now know the truth."

I smiled, aware that his voice had grown deeper and less troubled. "Yes, and do not think that I am ungrateful for your love, but still I take my obligation seriously. I know I have caused you unhappiness by forcing this issue to come to light."

He sighed again. "I do not blame you. If there was force, it was done by my sister's distress and although I hate to admit it, probably for the best. Open discussion of hurtful occurrences is not easy for me, Elizabeth, but if my carrying forward the pattern I learned from my father harms Georgiana, then I must change, no matter how painful that change is to me."

"You are exceptionally brave, my love." I took his face in my hands.

"No, I am not, and I am in dire need of comfort at this moment."

I began to kiss his lips, softly and tenderly. "Does this help?" I murmured.

"Hmm...a little. I cannot tell for sure. Try it again."

He gathered me onto his lap then and I proceeded to comfort him in such a way that we both derived great benefit.

~ * ~

We bid Colonel Fitzwilliam adieu the next morning. Georgiana tried her best, but she could not halt the tears spilling from her eyes. As Mr. Darcy gave last minute orders to the driver, Richard kissed my young sister's hand.

"Oh, Richard!" She flung herself into his arms. "Promise me you will return soon."

His arms embraced her tenderly and his eyes met mine as he kissed her hair. "There is no need to fret, Sprout. I shall be back before you know it. After all, I cannot miss dancing at your wedding." Although he spoke the words in jest, the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. Mr. Darcy and I stood beside her as she waved until the departing carriage could no longer be seen in the distance.

"Surely, he will not be gone too long." Georgiana's voice broke.

"Of course not," her brother said. "You know Fitzwilliam. He shows up when you least expect him. I would not be surprised at all to see him return within six months or less."

My husband's prediction was in error, however. We did not see Colonel Fitzwilliam for four long years and a great many things can happen in that length of time.

Chapter 16

We traveled to Hertfordshire in early March for Jane's wedding to Mr. Bingley. It had been an exceptionally cold winter and I thrilled to now see vestiges of spring begin to appear in the countryside. We were to stay at Netherfield, for that great house contained much more adequate room than Longbourn for Georgiana, Mr. Darcy, and me, along with our maids, valet, and other servants. As we climbed the stone steps leading to the entryway, vivid memories washed over me, transporting me back to an earlier year. The last time I entered that house, I danced with Mr. Darcy and deemed him the best dancer I had ever encountered, but surely the most difficult man to understand upon the face of the earth. My, how much my opinion had altered in little more than a year!

Mr. and Mrs. Hurst, as well as Miss Bingley, were also in attendance at the estate and thus, Georgiana and I oft times found ourselves spending much of the day at Longbourn. My sister-in-law much preferred the general noisy uproar of my old home to the stilted, hypocritical remarks Mr. Bingley's sisters inflicted upon the general conversation. Back and forth, their talk would swing from gushing over 'dear Jane' to thinly veiled, sniping remarks aimed at my mother and younger sisters. It was evident they lamented the fact their only brother was marrying down in the world. Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley, along with Mr. Hurst, escaped as early as possible each morning to their retreat of sport, and so the superior sisters found themselves in the sole company of each other for most of the days preceding the wedding.

Mamá, naturally, was almost hysterical in her preparations for the nuptials. I did my best to relieve Jane of her oppression and welcomed my Aunt Philips' daily attendance, as it at least gave Jane and I some respite and chance to be alone with each other. Of course, Mrs. Philips had returned to her tiresome habit of quoting proverbs and I vowed to Jane that I might engage in a desperate act if I heard Happy is the bride that the sun shines on one more time. One morning, after she glanced outside at the approaching clouds and then uttered it for the fifteenth time, I finally spoke up.

"I would not put much stock in that old saying, Aunt, for I can testify it takes more than sunshine to make a happy bride."

"Now, Lizzy," she replied, "these old sayings, as you call them, have stood me in good stead for many a year and I will have you know I have been proved false on nary a one."

"But Aunt, surely you must recall, it poured on my wedding day and yet I find myself quite cheerful."

She tsked-tsked over my rebuttal and tried to think of another appropriate adage with which to salvage her opinion, but I conveniently remembered a task calling me to another room, and made my escape. In fact, I had endured all of the close family contact I could for the present and, seeing that Georgiana was happily trimming bonnets with Kitty, I grabbed my shawl and bonnet and skipped out the back door. I longed for a walk in the old, familiar woods and the weather was mild enough to accommodate me. I reveled in the beginning buds popping out on trees and shrubs and the touch of scarlet the crocuses provided as they peeked out for a look at the new season.

I walked no little way that afternoon and after awhile, seeing the sun begin to lower in the sky, I observed that I should begin to make my way back to my mother's house. Before I returned, though, I climbed the small hill behind Longbourn Village and walked through the gates fronting the cemetery where my father was buried. I could not walk those lanes and woods without thinking of him, without recalling how I lost him at almost that very time only a year ago. Finding his grave, I knelt and placed upon it the small bouquet of wild blooms I had gathered. I ran my fingers across the roughly carved letters of his name and the dates of his birth and death below.

"Oh, Papá," I whispered, as a tear escaped down my cheek, "I miss you so." I allowed myself to cry a bit and then blew my nose and began to recall happier times. I could still see the twinkle in his eye and that sly, unreadable expression about his face when he made one of his droll statements, usually at my mother's expense, the meaning of which she never seemed to grasp. I remembered the talks we enjoyed in his study or walking about the grounds at Longbourn, how he could not wait for me to share a new book he received and enter into a long discussion of its merits. Although neither a perfect man nor parent, he had been a very dear father and I missed him most heartily.

I began to speak to him aloud in that way people have spoken to their departed loved ones for centuries, longing to feel a bit of communion with one another again.

"How I wish you were here to see Jane marry, Papá. She will make a beautiful bride, but of course, you have always known that. Mr. Gardiner shall escort her down the aisle, but do not think he can replace you, for that is impossible. You need not worry about her, though, for I believe she and Mr. Bingley will be happily settled. Their tempers are by no means unlike, each of them so complying that nothing will ever be resolved on; so easy that every servant will cheat them; and so generous that they will always exceed their income."

I could not help but smile to think that my father would most probably have uttered that statement had he been there. Our minds had been much alike and we had enjoyed a compatibility of temper and humor unlike anyone else in our family. I sat back upon the damp ground, looking up as the light wind rustled the new leaves on the trees, now causing my curls to blow slightly. I felt cheered my father was buried there, for it was a lovely spot and if one looked off in the distance, the spire of Longbourn Church could be seen faintly through the trees. As I lowered my gaze, I was surprised to see a man's figure emerge from the wood, growing ever closer as he walked toward me.

I smiled upon recognition of William's familiar gait and long legs. Hastily, I tried to brush aside the tears from my cheeks and began to rise. He put out his hand, motioning me to stay where I was. "Do not get up, dearest, unless the ground is uncomfortable for you," he said, as he knelt beside me and with one finger under my chin, tipped my face up to meet his. "You have been weeping." He gently rubbed his thumb across my cheek.

"How did you know to find me here?"

"I did not. I have combed those woods behind us for a good half-hour, looking for you. This place was my final quest before returning to Longbourn. Are you cold? Shall I give you my coat?"

I shook my head. "I am fine, William. Do not worry so. After several hours of Mamá's endless fluttering and Mrs. Philips' proverbs, I was desperate to find a peaceful spot."

"I see you have picked flowers for your father."

"Yes, and I told him of Jane's wedding. Oh, how I wish he could be here."

"As do I." He put his arm around me and held me close. "Have you told him of our news?"

"Not yet," I said softly, and then placed my hand upon the gravestone. "Papá, come next October, Mr. Darcy and I shall make you a grandfather."

"Surely, he would want a granddaughter the image of you."

"I am not so certain of that. After spending his life amongst scads of women, my father might now prefer the addition of a man-child to his family."

"Either way, as long as the babe looks like you, I shall be happy."

"A short, scrawny boy will not do, William. Let us hope that any son we have will inherit your good looks and my excellent temper." I spoke cheekily, took his hand and placed it upon my stomach. "I fear I shall not be slim for long. I hope I can hide it until after Jane's wedding."

"So you have told neither your mother nor sisters?"

I shook my head. "It shall be our secret for now, yours, mine and my father's."

He smiled and, kissing my nose, he hugged me even closer. "And if it is a boy, shall we name him for your father and mine?"

"I would love that, William."

"Are you ready to leave, my love? You should not sit on damp ground too long and the sun is beginning to set."

I nodded and allowed him to help me rise. I ran my hand over my father's stone once more and stooped to place a kiss upon it, but I did not cry again. Instead, I tucked my hand in my husband's arm and allowed him to lead me down the hill, leaning upon him for my support.

~ * ~

A week after the wedding, we traveled from Netherfield to London. Arriving a bit early for the season but having much to do to insure Georgiana's debut, it was only practical that we do so. In spite of her misgivings and nerves, she made a lovely appearance upon society and just as the good colonel had predicted, young men lined up to not only dance with her, but to call upon her from then on. I spent my days advising her on pertinent topics of conversation, serving as chaperone and consoling my husband's distraught nerves at the number of beaus now filling our townhouse. More and more I hoped our child would be a boy, for if William was this particular about his sister, how would his daughter ever survive?

Surprisingly, I made it through the four months of balls and parties without physically showing that I was with child until near the close of the season, mainly because I suffered nausea from morning till night and gained little weight. Fiona proved invaluable, for she not only could commiserate with my plight, but she knew several old Scottish remedies that relieved my suffering for short periods. By the time we returned to Pemberley in July, my sickness vanished as quickly as it appeared, and I soon began to put on weight and achieve that glow that surrounds expectant mothers.

My confinement proceeded without incident and our first son was born on October 28th at four o'clock in the morning, barely more than a year after Mr. Darcy and I had entered into our arranged marriage. I elected to nurse him myself rather than secure the services of a wet nurse and I gloried in motherhood, marveling daily that this beautiful little person had come into my life. He was the image of his father and I laughed often, seeing exactly how William would have looked as a babe. When his tiny brows knit together in a frown, I could see a miniature Mr. Darcy tuning up to holler, and when I coaxed him into a smile, I delighted in a glimpse of those same dimples as they lit up his little face.

Fiona surprised us six months later by announcing she was leaving Pemberley's service. It seemed that one of Mr. Darcy's tenants, a Mr. Martin MacAdams, had courted her right beneath our noses and she at last agreed to marry him. I hated to see her leave, for I had grown to rely upon her excellent services, but at the same time I rejoiced to see her find someone who loved her and Willie and would give them a home of their own. We attended their wedding in the small village church and I smiled when Fiona entered, wearing the lace-trimmed shawl I had given her the year before at Christmastide.

That next summer, news came from Longbourn that Kitty was to marry the local curate, Mr. James Morris. She had spent much time at Netherfield and under Jane's gentle tutelage, she had matured into a quieter, dignified young woman. Mamá was upset at first for she still desired a more advantageous match for her; but with Jane and Mr. Bingley's influence, she was soon made to see the wisdom of the match, for the young man was truly in love with Kitty and she with him.

I wish I could say that Mary made a like marriage, but it was not to be. Instead, once she remained the only daughter at Longbourn, she began to write. Like water bubbling forth from a spring, words poured from her pen and upon sending them to my aunt in town for her enjoyment, Mr. Gardiner was actually able to find a London editor who wished to publish her stories. I confess I was speechless after reading the first edition, for I fully expected a spinsterish version of Fordyce's Sermons aimed at warning young women of the perils of too many balls, unchecked flirting, and the dangers of the opposite sex. Instead, Mary wrote witty, satiric romances based on thinly veiled characterizations of my mother and younger sisters, and she oftentimes fashioned a heroine who appeared to be a composite of Jane and myself. The books became so popular she eventually took a house in London where she enjoyed the company of many cultured and erudite persons of the arts. I wonder that Papá did not turn over in his grave to see such an unexpected change in his quietest of daughters.

Lydia, as expected, lived the sort of life all of us feared she would. Mr. Wickham's enchantment with her soon evaporated and we heard rumours of his seeking excitement elsewhere. She, however, continued to enjoy the advantages of being a married woman and carved out an existence among military society in Newcastle, enjoying the favour and attention of officers and their wives because of her effervescent personality. Jane and I were both asked for frequent monetary assistance and we, of course, helped our youngest sister whenever we could.

Jane and Mr. Bingley left Hertfordshire two years after their marriage and bought a house in a neighbouring county near Derbyshire, a mere thirty miles from Pemberley. This, of course, pleased my sister and me excessively and we enjoyed raising our families together. Jane gave birth to two daughters in quick succession and I am happy to say they not only inherited their mother's pretty blonde curls, but their father's sunny disposition as well.

As for Georgiana, it was evident she was to marry someone from our own neighbourhood in Derbyshire: Mr. Darnley's eldest son. Of all the young men paying her attentions, he impressed Mr. Darcy as the only one qualified to be her husband. He asked and was granted permission to court her and did so for some length of time. Georgiana seemed to care for him - when questioned, she said she did not find him unattractive - but after several months when he asked for her hand, she turned him down. My husband and I both were surprised at this turn of events, but as William said, "She is still very young, not quite one and twenty."

At that time, I had given birth to my second son some two months before and the doctor had just granted me permission to walk in the gardens at Pemberley. The day after Mr. Darnley's refusal, I came upon my sister-in-law sitting on a bench among the rhododendrons. She seemed oblivious to her surroundings, a far-away look in her eyes, a wistful expression playing about her countenance.

"Georgiana, may I intrude upon your idyll? I hope you do not grow melancholy since your decision regarding Mr. Darnley."

She looked up quickly and returned to the present. "Of course you may join me, Elizabeth, and no, although I hated to hurt the gentleman's feelings, I do not regret what I have done."

Her presence of mind impressed me. Indeed, Georgiana's growth into a mature, self-assured young woman pleased me greatly. I could not help but hope that my influence had helped this to come about.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Wonderful, now that I am allowed out of doors."

"It must be difficult for you to be confined, loving to walk as much as you do. I recall a day when Richard and I came upon you on that bench hidden away over there at the edge of the lawn. You were reading a letter. I believe it was not long after you and William married and only a few days before the Harvest Ball."

"Mmm, I think you are correct, and I recall that letter being very important to me."

"You seem so much happier now than you were those first months of your marriage."

"I am, but why should I not be with two fine sons and the love of your brother?"

Georgiana smiled and looked away. "I am glad you and William made a love match, but your example makes it difficult for me to even think of marriage."

"Why, whatever causes you to say that?"

"I look upon your marriage as ideal, Elizabeth. I want the same for myself."

"My dear, your brother and I do not live perfect lives. You are well aware we often disagree and even argue."

"Yes, but it never lasts for long. You may quarrel one day, but by the next morning, all is made right. I desire that kind of union."

"Well, you shall have it," I said, emphatically. "Mr. Darnley may not be the right man for you, but you are still very young, Georgiana. There will be other men to choose from. In truth, once word gets out that you have refused him, I am certain a steady stream of gentlemen callers will plague your brother all over again."

She frowned and looking away, remained silent for a while. I rose and began to snip a bouquet of marguerites and daisies, placing them in the basket I carried on my arm. It was not long before she took the basket from me, offering to carry it while I made the cuttings.

"Elizabeth, has Wills heard from Richard lately? It seems as though he has been gone forever. He has not written to me in more than six months. I sometimes fear he has forgotten me."

I pressed my lips together. I dreaded to relate the news we had received the evening before.

"Elizabeth?" She walked in front of me so that she could see my expression. "What is it? Has something happened to him?"

I took her hand and led her back to the bench. "A letter came from Lord Matlock late last evening. Colonel Fitzwilliam is in London, staying at Eden Park."

"Eden Park!" she exclaimed, her eyes aglow. "He has returned to England at last! It has been four years, Elizabeth. Do you realize he has been out of the country that long?" I nodded and could not help but see that those four years had not diminished Georgiana's feelings for her cousin. I wondered, though, what all had happened to him.

"I shall go in and write to him immediately, asking him to visit us here at Pemberley," she announced as she rose from the bench and turned in the direction of the house.

I put my hand on her arm. "Georgiana, a moment, please. There is something you must know."

"What is it?"

"The colonel has been injured in the war."

"Injured! In what way?" she cried, sinking back onto the bench beside me.

"A sword wound to his leg."

She made a small cry, much like an animal caught in a snare. "But he will be all right, will he not?"

"Aye, the Earl said he would survive, but he will walk with a limp the rest of his life."

Tears formed in her lovely blue eyes and threatened to spill over at any moment. "Oh, my dear Richard. I cannot bear to think of him being hurt. I must go to him. We must all go to him immediately." She jumped up and ran toward the house. "Where is Wills? He must make plans for us to leave this very day!"

William, of course, made no such plans. He was unwilling to leave our new son and me, and since I was unable to travel yet, a great argument arose between brother and sister. Back and forth they volleyed reasons for and against the trip, but Georgiana would not be dissuaded. Eventually, William gave in to her pleading and agreed she could travel to London, but only if her former companion, Mrs. Annesley, would leave her house in Lambton where she had retired some years ago, and accompany her. Georgiana was such a favourite of the older lady that she was easily persuaded to make the trip. The next day the ladies and their maids, four of Mr. Darcy's most trusted footmen, and his most careful driver transported my sister-in-law to Eden Park. Against her brother's will and truly against any reasoning he put forth, she had insisted she would go.

As we watched the carriage drive out of the park, William sighed and swore once again. "This stubborn streak in Georgiana is most unattractive. I know not from where it comes!"

I held my breath to keep from laughing aloud. The two of them grew more alike in temperament each day, but neither of them could see it.

---

Our annual Harvest Ball took place at the end of September that year, an event William and I both relished because of the special memories it evoked between us. I was somewhat surprised that Georgiana had not returned by that time, since it still remained her favourite party of the year. As I attempted to read through the lines of her sporadic letters, I could only hope that her relationship with the colonel progressed. It appeared that Richard was in low spirits since his injury had necessitated his retirement from the military. I wondered if he would now consider himself even less qualified to ask for Georgiana's hand or, for that matter, whether he still cared for her in that manner. After all, they had been apart over four years and none of us had seen him during that time. I felt certain my sister-in-law cared deeply for him, else why would she turn down every eligible young man who attempted to court her. Perchance, however, I was playing the romantic and it would not turn out as I hoped after all. William, of course, knew nothing of all this. He was as hopelessly blind as always to his sister's feelings, although he had learned to allow her to express them. We had made some little progress during the years.

That night at the ball (as we had done every year), Mr. Darcy and I stole away for a few moments, deserting our guests to return to the stable and the haystack just out its back door. A full moon shone once again as though we had ordered it, when William and I dropped upon the mound of hay and he began to kiss me. The years had not diminished the thrill of his touch, nor had I grown immune to the delicious taste of his kisses. If anything, I was more like putty in his hands than ever, for I knew full well the pleasure he could give me and I could see the joy in his eyes when he provoked that response in me that pleaded for more.

"Can you still recall that night when first we kissed in this spot?" he asked.

"How can I not?" I raked my hands through his curls.

"Why did you run from me, Elizabeth? I have always wanted to know."

I shook my head. "I still do not have an answer, William. Perhaps I wanted to know whether you would come after me, whether you truly wanted me."

"I was born wanting you. I may not have known it at the time, but I believe I searched for you all of my life."

Those words and the tender look in his eyes reduced me to a helpless muddle once again and we struggled desperately to contain our passion. After many kisses and close embraces, we rose to return to our guests. He, of course, brushed the hay from my person, but I, in turn, spent no little time in doing the same to his backside, a task I deliberately took time to accomplish.

Among the numerous surprises I had encountered from my husband since our marriage, his romantic sensibility was one that I never expected. He seemed to recall each and every time we had done something for the first time. Before Mr. Bingley's wedding to Jane at Netherfield, one evening Mr. Darcy had summoned two musicians and asked them to play the very song we had first danced to. The only dancers in the ballroom, he led me through the steps as though we were at a fancy dress ball. I attempted to stifle my laughter but it was impossible when, at the end of the number, we caught Caroline and Mrs. Hurst standing in the doorway with shocked, but obviously envious expressions upon their countenances.

At the townhouse in London, the adjoining door between our chambers stood open permanently. Indeed, it might as well have been removed for it no longer barred either of us from the other. My sleepwalking adventures ceased as quickly as they had appeared, once I spent every night in my husband's bed.

In a private moment, Mr. Darcy even admitted that the night he surprised me in my bath, he had, indeed, seen me stretch my leg up in the air and run warm water down it. That sight had caused him to stand transfixed, unable to turn away, as he should have done. By the time he made that confession, of course, all I could do was smile, for the shock and anger I felt that night had vanished forever.

Many evenings when Georgiana was away, after dinner Mr. Darcy would lead me into the billiards room, where he continued to instruct me in the proper way to play the game. I must confess I proved a slow learner and it took much patience and intimate demonstrations before either of us felt I had mastered the game. I never did understand the point of the sport, unless it was to allow lovers the opportunity for close proximity while being tutored.

In like manner, I had yet to learn the Italian language, and even still required my husband to translate the words of particularly romantic arias in my ear when we attended recitals and concerts. He must have thought me quite thick to make such slow progress in my studies of the foreign tongue, but he never complained, patient soul that he is.

Upon more occasions than I can remember, when rainstorms struck Pemberley at night William and I would steal away to spend the evening in his old chamber at the end of the hall. I had never allowed Mrs. Reynolds to transform it into a guest room. It still remained our secret haven where we had first allowed fulfillment of our great need and passionate love for each other. So, stealing away from the Harvest Ball to the haystack retreat outside had become a yearly recurrence and, I confess, one that made the entire night that much sweeter.

~ * ~

We had just returned to the great hall and the party when I looked across the room and saw none other than Colonel Fitzwilliam enter the room with Georgiana on his arm and Mrs. Annesley follow close behind them. The older lady quickly joined acquaintances who greeted her, and our cousin and sister moved further into the room. Richard appeared thinner and older than last we saw him, and he now relied upon a cane to assist him in walking; however, his experience had only added a distinguished air and done little to mar his looks. We quickly crossed the room to greet them and from the sparkle in their eyes, I surmised that all was well. They joined us at the head table and partook of the sumptuous feast laid before us. After dinner the colonel asked Georgiana to dance, but she protested, saying she was perfectly happy sitting beside him. He insisted, however, and led her to the floor. I know not how much pain he endured to go down the line of that dance, for he hid it well with the smile upon his face. Afterwards, though, he did not dance again and my sister-in-law, who enjoyed the art more than anything, was content to remain seated by his side for the remainder of the evening.

Two days later I came upon Mr. Darcy sitting at his desk, his face turned toward the window, so deep in contemplation he did not hear me enter the study. When I called his name, he appeared startled, as though he returned from a great distance. I, of course, immediately questioned his inattentiveness. He said Colonel Fitzwilliam had just asked his blessing on his marriage to Georgiana. Needless to say, I was thrilled, but I attempted to temper my reaction until I knew William's response.

"It seems that Lord and Lady Matlock are settling the bulk of her fortune upon him immediately. His father's title and majority of wealth will go to his elder brother, of course, but because of his mother's generous endowment, my cousin feels he can provide for my sister more than adequately."

"And did you give your approval?"

"Yes, of course, if Fitzwilliam is Georgiana's choice."

"Oh, he is, I am sure."

He looked at me curiously. "Elizabeth, something tells me this announcement is not news to you. Am I correct?"

I looked away, searching for the right words. "I have long suspected Georgiana cared for him."

"Of course, she cared for him; we all do. I have the feeling, however, you have known for some time that she loves him not only as a cousin, but as a man. Am I wrong?" I shook my head slightly and he pressed on. "What do you know of the matter?"

"William, I guessed that Colonel Fitzwilliam was in love with Georgiana before he left England. When I asked him, he confessed it, but he requested I keep it in confidence. I feared he might never declare his intentions, for he insisted she have time to grow up, time to reach her own conclusions as to her feelings for him. He left without expressing his desires to her. He was too much of a gentleman to do that."

"And yet he told you," William said, a frown crossing his face. "What other secrets do you harbour that you have kept from me?"

"None. Believe me, this is the only one and I am much relieved that it is out in the open, that it has turned out well."

Just then the colonel and Georgiana entered the room and she ran to embrace first her brother and then me. "Oh, Elizabeth, did you ever think I could be so happy?"

"I did and I rejoice with you!"

When William did not add his felicitations, I nudged him slightly with my elbow and he immediately gave voice to them. Well, I thought, we are an old married couple after all, for here I am elbowing my husband, an action I thought I would never resort to!

Georgiana returned to Richard's side and tucked her hand inside his arm, her face wreathed in smiles as she looked up at him.

"Richard," I said, offering my hand, "let me congratulate you! You have won the prize."

"I have, indeed, Elizabeth. I have won the fairest flower in all of England, for my little 'Sprout' has blossomed into the loveliest rose!"

~ * ~

Some five weeks later, Mr. Darcy and I set out for London to attend Richard and Georgiana's wedding. It was a short engagement, to be sure, but they both declared they had been apart far too long. When Mr. Darcy voiced some objection, I reminded him that we, ourselves, had been engaged less than a fortnight before our wedding took place. Our sister elected to be married from the majestic sanctuary in which we worshiped when we lived in town. I was somewhat surprised, thinking she would choose the small church at Derbyshire, but it turned out that both bride and groom preferred London. Mrs. Annesley, once again, had aided us by traveling to London with Georgiana some weeks earlier to shop for her trousseau and wedding clothes and remaining with her in the townhouse until we joined them. That enabled us to refrain from taking the little ones into town with all its germs and possible fevers. We left the children with Jane and Mr. Bingley, as she was expecting her third child and, upon doctor's orders, could not travel. Although I had weaned my babe by that time, it was difficult to leave him and his brother, but William promised we would return within a week.

Unfortunately, it began to rain the day we set out and the farther we traveled the harder it rained. The roads soon vanished, becoming soggy, muddy ruts, and we bounced around inside the carriage much as we had done on our own wedding day. When we stopped at a small village to change horses, we were dismayed to learn that up ahead the river had risen sharply and the bridge was now four foot deep in swiftly rushing water. The local villagers warned us not to proceed until the rain let up and the water receded. By that time, evening reigned, the storm causing us to make poor time.

As I entered the small, rustic inn with Mr. Darcy, a sudden wave of familiarity brushed over me and I looked around, wondering when I could ever have been there. Mr. Darcy and I rarely stayed at an inn, for he much preferred the comfort and luxury of our own homes, or that of our friends and family.

"You be in luck, sir," the innkeeper said, bustling about in anticipation of entertaining paying guests for the night, "the best suite - the only suite - in the house is free. Two connecting rooms, sir, right up these stairs. Just follow me."

That voice! I turned to look upon our host and yes, it was the same little man who had ushered us up those stairs in years past. This was the very place in which we had spent our wedding night. As I reached for the handrail, I remembered the burnished chocolate colour and when I looked down, I saw those same wooden steps worn to an even duller shine. At the head of the stairs, the man led us past a closed door to the so-called suite at the end of the hall. Inside, Mr. Darcy walked around inspecting the two rooms, an impatient, displeased air about him.

"Is this the best you can offer, man?" he asked.

When the innkeeper nodded, William looked at me with an apologetic expression. "Well, we have no choice. I suppose we shall have to make the best of it."

"Yes, sir." The man hurried to the grate to lay a fire. "Let me get a blaze started and then I'll have my wife bring up what's needed."

"Before you do that," I said, "did I not see another room at the head of the stairs? Is it vacant?"

"Oh, yes, Ma'am, but it be only a single room, not near as nice as this one."

"Could we see it?" I asked. Mr. Darcy frowned at me. "I would truly like to see it."

"Yes, Ma'am," the innkeeper said, a look of confusion about his face, as he led us down the hall and opened the door. We walked into the room and immediately a rush of memories flooded my senses. Was it only yesterday I had followed my new husband into that chamber, a most reluctant bride, fearful and angry that I had been forced into an arranged marriage? The same lumpy old chaise sat to one side, its middle sagging even more, if possible. The furnishings had not been altered in the slightest during the years; even the same worn quilt covered the bed. I walked around the room, running my fingers lightly across the small table sitting before the cold fireplace.

"I should like to stay in this room, Mr. Darcy." I turned to observe his reaction. I was not disappointed, for I could see the shock of recognition in his eyes, as well.

"Here, Ma'am?" The owner of the inn's voice was incredulous. "But the other rooms be much grander."

"We shall take this room," my husband said. "Light the fire and see that our things are brought up, if you please."

The man shook his head in wonderment, but he did as he was told. When he finished, his wife and serving girl furnished the room with clean towels and poured fresh water in the ewer. Upon their final departure, Mr. Darcy took my hands and brought them to his lips.

"What are the chances we should find ourselves in this room once again?".

"And after all this time?" I replied.

"The very room we spent our wedding night." He shook his head. "A poor beginning, you must admit."

I smiled and walked over to the bed, running my hand across the quilt. "A very poor beginning. But I must confess the room holds an appeal for me."

"In what way?"

"This was the first bed in which we slept together."

"A pity that neither of us were conscious of it."

"Yes," I said, turning to him, "a very great pity."

He ran his finger along the side of my face and under my chin. "I can still see the fire in your eyes that greeted me that next morning. My, but you were angry!"

"And why not?" I retorted. "You promised to sleep on that lumpy old chaise, as I recall."

He looked at the referenced piece of furniture and then at the bed. "I did, but something drew me to your bed, Elizabeth."

"Nothing drew you, William. In truth, you were somewhat worse the wear from drink, and you stumbled into bed with me by mistake."

He slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me closer. "I think not, my love. I may have been inebriated, but it was never a mistake. I think an unseen force drew me to you as clearly as though we were somehow tied together. It was that same force that caused you to find your way into my bed when walking in your sleep, that led you to my portrait at Pemberley when I was still in London that took me to the assembly at Meryton where I first laid eyes on you. We were meant to be together, to love each other, to be drawn one to the other forever. It is a force that cannot be denied."

I opened my mouth to speak, but he covered it with his own sweet lips. That delicious taste of heaven caused that familiar quickening deep within me. "Do not deny it, Elizabeth," he managed to mumble between kisses. "Do you hear me? Do not deny it."

In truth, I had no intention of denying it, but if he thought that I was and insisted on kissing me to prevent my doing so, I saw no reason to tell him otherwise. I simply surrendered to his love, an action I continue to enjoy to this day.

The End

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