Prologue
T
wo rich gentlemen entered the squalid London
boarding house, barely suppressing their horror.
The dirty street, strewn with unmentionable refuse,
the hordes of unwashed, neglected children, and
women offering themselves for a few coins seemed foreign
and far away from the clean, pristine order of Grosvenor
Square. They ignored the looks of amazement and curios-
ity from the proprietor as the obviously wealthier gentle-
man asked for directions to one of the rooms. The gentle-
man’s face was grim and stony as he led the way up the old
staircase, absently wondering if the stairs would hold their
respective weights until they reached the top.
Sucking in a deep breath, he knocked upon the door. A
young lady, a girl really, opened the door. She was pale and
trembling as her eyes widened in recognition. Shamed and
speechless, she cast her eyes to the floor.
“May we enter?” he asked in a soft, authoritative voice.
Sitting on two mean chairs, the second gentleman asked
in a voice full of bitter pain and disappointment, “How
could you do this, young lady? How could you leave your
family and consent to such a scandalous elopement?” The
girl burst out into tears which, although welcome, gave
him scant comfort. “I can not believe it. Your brother and
I have been searching for you day and night for a week.
To throw yourself into the power of such an immoral, de-
praved man is intolerable!”
Finally, the other gentleman spoke wearily. “Richard,
she did not know of Wickham’s character. We never told
her.”
Moved with anger and fear, he responded, “Perhaps that
was a mistake on our part, Darcy, but she did know better.
No young lady needs to know of a man’s character to real-
ize the imprudence of quitting the protection of her guard-
ians to elope.”
The girl began weeping and was nearly incomprehensi-
ble, but they did hear her between gasps. “I am sorry. You
are right. I did know better.”
During the exchange, Darcy had leaned forward in
his chair, his hands covering his face. He slowly drug his
hands down his face and turned to his sister. “Georgiana,
we want you to return with us.”
“How can I after what I have done?” Georgiana whis-
pered as her gaze remained firmly on the floor.
“No one knows of your misbehavior beyond Wickham
and Mrs. Younge, and I daresay their word will not stand
against ours.” She silently nodded, and solemnly the trio
gathered her belongings and made their way to the car-
riage, each relieved to leave behind memories of misery and
stench.

Eight weeks passed with little disturbance in the Darcy
family. The mood was still depressed and serious as Colonel
Fitzwilliam entered the townhouse. Richard Fitzwilliam
looked on Darcy with ill-disguised disapproval. Darcy’s
drive, and Richard suspected, his guilt, had taken its toll.
His cousin’s coat was hanging on his form, which had
already been slim. Worry and exhaustion lined his face.
“Darcy, you look horrendous. You will be of no assistance
to Georgiana or anyone else if you do not slow down. You
are working too hard.”
Darcy frowned as he remarked coldly, “How can you
even say it? After what happened to her, I doubt I could be
diligent enough.”
“Negligence played a very small part in our misfortunes,”
Richard returned sternly. “Georgiana is responsible for
her horrible decision, not to forget the scheming of Mrs.
Younge and Wickham. Look, Darcy, we are two single
gentlemen. We can not accompany her at all times. We
provided for her, cared for her and set her up with every
comfort.” Before they could argue in earnest, the butler
announced Bingley’s arrival.
Bingley stopped momentarily, stunned at the poor
health of his friend. He was not sure what had preoccu-
pied Darcy in the last few months; but, from his appear-
ance, Darcy was unwell. Bingley recognized upon further
conversation, his friend appeared even more grave than
usual. Affecting his customary cheer, Bingley finally came
to the point. “I did not receive a reply to my note regard-
ing your intentions to join me in Hertfordshire. You seem
to need a break, and the sport should be splendid. What
do you say, Darcy?”
Fitzwilliam looked at his cousin and spoke first. “You
really should go. Mrs. Annesley is well settled, and the re-
spite will benefit you.”
Darcy sat back in his chair, looking at his two friends
silently for several moments. He was exhausted. Perhaps
away from London, into a society of no consequence, he
could gain some relief. At the very least, the absence of soi-
rées, card parties, plays or engagements would be welcome.
“You have convinced me. I shall join you.”
1
 Chapter 1
D
arcy paced his bedchamber, disturbed over
his inexplicable attraction to Miss Elizabeth
Bennet. In little over a month since arriv-
ing at Netherfield, her presence had become
equal parts delight and torment. She leaves tomorrow at
least and none too soon. He had never been so bewitched
by any woman. Miss Elizabeth’s spirit and liveliness, her
lovely, intelligent eyes, and her love for her sister stirred
his admiration. He grudgingly admitted he was not im-
mune to a pretty face or figure either. But even beyond her
family’s deplorable behavior and connections, he did not
need the complication of a wife to add to his other duties
and responsibilities.
Even with that distraction, the time spent in
Hertfordshire had been beneficial. He felt rested, and his
coats fit again. He absently fingered a volume, chuckling
as he thought of his conversation with Miss Elizabeth re-
garding women’s accomplishments. He never thought he
could find amusement in a woman contradicting him, but
the sweetness of her manner combined with the flash of
her eyes had been enchanting. Caught in such pleasant
musings, he barely noticed the servant knocking.
He tore open the express and scanned his contents. He
paled as he hurriedly reached the end. Good God, what else
can happen?
 Ireland.
The next morning Darcy forced himself not to run to
his sister’s chambers upon arriving in London.
“Georgiana, what is the matter?”
She struggled to sit up as a wave of dizziness washed
over her. “I have felt unwell for the last fortnight. I have
been weak and unable to eat much.” Seeing the guilt on
her beloved brother’s face, she hastily explained. “I am sor-
ry for not telling you sooner but I have already caused so
much trouble…”
“My dear, you should not have keep your illness a secret.
Your elopement was extremely unwise, but jeopardizing
your health for your past mistakes will not help either of
us. Please rest while I summon the doctor.”
Upon completing his examination, Dr. Richards entered
the study. Darcy felt tendrils of fear creep upon him as
he noticed the physician’s grave, uncomfortable expression.
“Whatever it is, I shall thank you to come to the point di-
rectly.”
“Very well, Mr. Darcy. Your sister is with child.”
2

For the first time in several years, Darcy wished des-
perately for his mother. He remembered telling her all his
boyish secrets and feeling the soothing comfort of her em-
brace. His father, although a fine, generous man, had never
been close to his son and heir. However, Darcy and Lady
Anne, both reserved and extremely clever, truly understood
each other.
We were both Fitzwilliams, through and through, he idly
mused. Father never understood her, so he could never under-
stand me. He thought upon his miserable failure towards
his parents. Georgiana had been the darling, sweet girl
they had waited upon. Their mutual desire for a daughter
was one of the few mutual desires they shared, he reflected
sadly, thinking upon his boyhood impressions of their un-
equal marriage. He had never felt as inadequate as he had
during the past ten days. He did not know how to ease his
sister’s physical distress nor her emotional unease. She was
extremely uncomfortable even discussing it, and he was
scarcely less so. With Richard away preparing for a pos-
sible invasion of France, he would have to face this crisis
without even the Colonel’s counsel. He had no mother, no
father, and no cousin. He was truly alone.
Throughout his reflections, his confidence in the right-
ness of taking Georgiana away from Wickham never wa-
vered. Even an illegitimate child was preferable to a life with
a degenerate gamester and philanderer. We have excellent
connections; and, with her dowry, I could marry Georgiana
to a minor aristocrat or gentleman, preferably in Scotland or
Sir Patrick would do. He knew the gentleman’s estate
needed an infusion of cash. Darcy owned a small neigh-
boring estate, which would enable him to regularly visit
her in Scotland. He would rather hand over her dowry to
improve Sir Patrick’s lands than see it wasted on Wickham.
At least Sir Patrick has no vicious habits and is even tem-
pered.
But what of the child? He could not imagine such a man
wanting to raise another man’s progeny, and his pride ran-
kled at having to explain his sister’s indiscretion. Besides,
Georgiana is unfit to be a wife to anyone. She has always been
exceedingly shy, but now she seldom meets anyone’s gaze or
lifts her voice above a whisper. She flinches at the smallest
sound. I wish I were immoral enough to murder Wickham!
During his conversation with her after the doctor’s news,
he gathered enough of Georgiana’s sobbing tale to know
that Wickham had forced himself on her. Doubtless in a
vain attempt to secure their marriage. Wickham is a fool if he
thought me capable of abandoning her to such a fate, he pon-
dered grimly. But I still have to ascertain what to do with
the child.
 He felt grief settle upon him as he thought of his sister’s
infant. With the stain of illegitimacy, the child will grow
up with the scorn and whispers of Society. The wealth and
influence of the Darcy name will keep the baby from being
shunned, but what infamy! The Darcy and Fitzwilliam fami-
lies have been known for possessing upstanding reputations
and a proud heritage. No, there has to be another solution. I
cannot fail an innocent babe as well as Georgiana. What can
be done?
He knew of families passing off illegitimate children
to other married members. He sighed as he realized that
would not be possible for him. His uncle, the earl, was a
widower. Neither his eldest son, John, nor Richard were
married. He was the last of the Darcys, beyond a few dis-
tant relations he hardly knew.
A plan began to form as he continued pondering the
possibilities. I could marry. It would have to be a quick, qui-
et aff air. If he were to succeed, he would have to conclude
the marriage expeditiously. But where would I find a bride?
He knew Lady Catherine would be delighted for him to
marry Anne; but, once his aunt knew of the circumstances,
the reproaches and lectures would be intolerable. She
would use his failures and her position as Anne’s mother to
insinuate herself in every aspect of his life. He would have
to look outside his family.
But whom could he trust? Suddenly, he knew. He began
making plans immediately.
Chapter 2
S
ince her refusal of Mr. Collins the day be-
fore, Elizabeth found few sources of comfort at
Longbourn. Her mother’s petulant ravings be-
came increasingly intolerable and mean spirited.
Mrs. Bennet had purposely kept her inside after breakfast,
while the other girls walked to Meryton. She had been by
turns scolded, cajoled and threatened until she longed to
escape. Even more painful than her mother’s arguments
was her recollection from yesterday of her father, whom
she felt she could trust to defend her.
“Lizzy,” he stated sadly, “I must ask you to reconsider.”
“Yes, Mr. Bennet,” her mother interrupted. “Tell her
about her duty. Tell her if she does not accept him, we will
all be turned out of this house as soon as may be. Tell her
she must accept him.”
“Mrs. Bennet! Kindly leave us alone. You are not helping
anyone,” he said impatiently. After many complaints, she
departed with a triumphant glare toward her daughter. Mr.
Bennet began again. “I know he is not the most sensible
man, and I dislike agreeing with your mother on any sub-
ject, but you do have a duty to her and your sisters.”
“Papa,” Elizabeth interjected with tears in her eyes. “If
there was any hope I could ever respect him, or hold him
in any esteem, I would consider his offer, but I cannot even
think of marriage to him. Every feeling revolts!”
Sighing heavily, her father walked to the window and
stared out. “I always thought I would have a son who
would inherit all of this but it was not to be and It is too
late to do more for you all now. I cannot force you to ac-
cept him, but I want you to do your duty to your family. I
shall see about putting off Collins for a day or two for you
to reconsider.”
She had never been so cruelly disappointed in him. She
felt the angry tears sting her eyes upon realizing that her
father wanted her to accept a man that he could not even
endure for a fortnight invading his library. Elizabeth shook
aside her tears and nearly sprinted when she reached the
gates of Longbourn, so happy to be free.
She thought of the last time she had actually been hap-
py. Was the ball at Netherfield only two days ago? She re-
membered her surprise and relief at Mr. Darcy’s absence,
although she did feel a twinge of guilt when she heard of
Miss Darcy’s sudden illness. Not only did Mr. Darcy not
attend, but Mr. Wickham was absent as well. She recalled
how little pleasure she had in enduring the most mortify-
ing behaviors from her own family. These are the people I
am supposed to sacrifice myself for, she thought bitterly as she
recalled her wild younger sisters and her indiscreet mother.
Papa wants me to tie myself to a man I disdain for them.
3
 She could still recall the scornful derision upon the
countenances of Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst and shud-
dered to think how they might influence Mr. Bingley
against Jane. She knew Mr. Darcy was unlikely to ap-
prove the match either. He is already thinks himself above
us all and I am certain he feels little fondness for Mama. She
rounded the curve of the path and found herself face to
face with the subject of her musings. Reluctantly, she con-
sented to Mr. Darcy joining her on her ramble, although
she could not imagine why he would wish it. No doubt to
find more fault with my family.
“Miss Elizabeth, I hoped to find you out here today.” She
noticed he seem distracted and unusually pallid. Pausing
for several minutes, he finally blurted out, “I have strug-
gled to find the proper words but I think in such cases,
frankness is preferable. I need a wife and want to offer you
my hand in marriage.”
 nearest tree as she stared in morbid fascination. “Her other
She sat upon a tree that had fallen close by as the
earth slightly shifted. “Mr. Darcy, I am very surprised. I
had no idea that you held me in any particular regard.”
Embarrassed at her speech, she continued with a rosy blush,
“I beg your pardon. That was very impolite.”
He seemed sympathetic as he sat next to her in silence.
He finally said more gently, “I have admired you for some
time but I admit, other circumstances have necessitated
my proposal.”
“Circumstances?” Elizabeth asked warily. She could not
imagine, nor was she certain that she wanted to know,
what circumstances would necessitate a rich gentleman to
propose.
He turned to look at her with a sadness that struck her
heart in spite of her dislike of him. “My sister, Georgiana,
is with child, and I intend to marry and raise the child as
my own.”
“What of the child’s father? Should not they marry?”
Elizabeth head spun as she tried to keep pace with the
conversation.
He looked sternly disapproving and tersely stated, “No.
I would not wish Mr. Wickham on my sister or an infant.”
Elizabeth paled and quietly said, “Mr….Wickham? No,
no, it cannot be.”
Seeming not to hear her, he blurted, “God, I could
kill him for what he is done.” Seeing the rage on his face,
Elizabeth began to believe him. She certainly did not want
to believe Mr. Darcy but why would a proud man invent
such a story about his own sister? He began to pace in
front of the fallen tree as he continued his narrative, “I al-
lowed my sister to go to Ramsgate this summer with her
companion, Mrs. Young, in whose character we were un-
happily deceived. Evidently by design, she arranged for a
4
meeting between Georgiana and Mr. Wickham. He per-
suaded her to elope with him, to gain access to her fortune,
and no doubt to exact revenge upon me. A marriage be-
tween them is unthinkable; such a man could only subject
her to misery of the acutest kind.”
Alarmed at his disclosures, Elizabeth protested, “Sir, I
am honored that you would confide your private affairs to
me, but I do believe it is most inappropriate.”
“I quite agree with you, madam, and if I had a choice, I
would never burden you. However, I can think of no other
way to make you understand. Indeed, before agreeing to
marry me, you must know.” Before she had opportunity
to renew her objections, he explained, “He told Georgiana
he intended to elope to Scotland. He could not marry her
otherwise because she is not yet sixteen. Instead her took
her to London.”
If it had been directed toward her, Elizabeth would have
been frightened at the hatred reflected on Darcy’s face. She
watched him angrily break a few small branches on the
guardian, our cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam and I found her
a week later, in conditions so deplorable that I still can
scarcely believe it.”
“We persuaded her to return with us.” Darcy’s voice
broke and Elizabeth wondered if he might actually give
way to tears. After a few breaths, she heard his remote voice
continue, “The day you and Miss Bennet departed from
Netherfield, I received an express from Georgiana, request-
ing my immediate presence in London. Upon summoning
our physician, I discovered her condition.” He seemed to
suddenly recollect himself and colored as he said, “I beg
your pardon, madam, at relating such a tale to a lady, but
so it is. I am willing to raise her child as my own, but to
do so, I must marry and I wish to marry you.”
Elizabeth did not how to respond to such a speech. She
fell silent for several minutes while she contemplated his
situation. She certainly felt a surge of sympathy for him,
but how could she even consider it? She did not even like
him. “Mr. Darcy, I do not know what to say. Your situa-
tion is most unenviable and I am very sorry for it, but I do
not know how I can accept your proposal. I hardly know
you and however impolite it sounds, I do not feel a suf-
ficient amount of affection which I always assumed neces-
sary to enter the married state.”
He looked upon her solemnly. “I know I have not shown
my preference for you; indeed, I had no intention of rais-
ing expectations that I would not fulfill, but I have ad-
mired you from nearly the beginning of our acquaintance.
I assure you, as Mrs. Darcy, you will continue to have my
utmost respect and my affection. I am confident with time
and familiarity, we can be content together.”
She suddenly realized that he had told her twice of his af-
fection for her. Elizabeth whispered softly, “You admire me?”
His earnest expression bore through her. For the first
time, she could not willfully misunderstand the approv-
 al in his gaze nor her corresponding flutters. He replied
breathlessly, “Yes, yes, I have. You are a lovely, witty, loyal
woman.”
Valiantly attempting to regain some composure, she
smiled archly, “After the assembly at Meryton, you’ll un-
derstand why I find your appreciation of my beauty dif-
ficult to credit.”
Darcy blushed at her statement before replying gravely,
“I beg your pardon for such incivility. I was upset about
my sister’s elopement and in no mood to even be in
Hertfordshire. I should have never agreed to it, except I
would not have met you otherwise.”
It seemed that the ground was spinning madly. Elizabeth
was bewildered and disconcerted. She wondered how she
had been so mistaken about him, about Wickham, about
her father, about everything. Is anyone around me truly
who they are supposed to be?
“I know of no other woman with whom I wish to spend
my life. I want a woman who would walk three miles to
attend her sister and can understand my devotion to mine.
I have confidence in you and your discretion.” He gave her
a small smile and offered, “It would be an excellent match
for you.”
She bristled at his implication. The last thing I need is
someone else reminding me of my situation! She replied frost-
ily, “If I might return your frankness, I do not want my
reputation compromised any more than you want it for
your sister and her baby.”
She could not understand why she was still speaking to
him. She knew she should simply refuse such a singular
offer, but the sad, soft light in his eyes compelled her to
silence. She could not help but think of her own father,
doubting if he would expend the effort Mr. Darcy did.
Soberly, he said softly, with that same disconcerting ear-
nestness, “Let me assure you, madam, risk to your repu-
tation is unacceptable and I will use all my resources to
protect you. I know you have no reason to believe me after
what I have related, but I intend to be a good husband and
a diligent father.”
His grave look of pain moved her. More gently, she re-
plied, “You are not to blame for the scheming of others.”
His use of the word duty struck a chord, recalling her own
unsavory situation at home. She needed to be alone, need-
ed to think. She finally said weakly, “I wish to think upon
it overnight, if I may, sir.”
 of them and force them into his plan, but he did not.
Elizabeth shortly returned home, perturbed and
confused. She heard her mother’s shrill voice as she entered
the garden. Her mother looked as ill-tempered as ever and
Jane was following behind, no doubt trying to soothe her.
“Lizzy, Lizzy! Where is that child?”
“Here, Mama,” she sighed as she removed her bonnet.
“I hope you enjoyed your walk, Lizzy. After your father’s
death, Mr. Collins will turn us out and I doubt you will
have much time for rambling about, gaining freckles and
refusing any eligible offer for you. I have had quite enough
of your stubbornness. I wish to tell Mr. Collins at dinner
tonight that the matter is settled.”
“Mama, please, you know my sentiments; if you an-
nounce it tonight, I will deny it, I assure you.”
“You must be sensible, foolish child! How many offers
do you think you will receive? You have not half of Jane’s
beauty nor half of Lydia’s good temper. Mr. Collins will
do very nicely for you and we shall secure a home. I insist
you accept him!”
“No, Mama!” Elizabeth screamed shrilly, all patience
exhausted. She barely noticed her sister stiffen. Her voice
softened slightly. “I will choose whom I will marry.”
Seeing Elizabeth on the verge of tears, Jane interjected,
“Mama, please, let’s speak of it no more. Lizzy knows your
sentiments and arguing will do no good.” Mrs. Bennet
was loathe to quit the subject, but Jane’s serenity eventu-
ally prevailed. However, Elizabeth knew it would not be
long.

After a miserable evening, Elizabeth retired. Her fa-
ther retreated to his library immediately after dinner and
she bore up under the allusions of Mrs. Bennet and Mr.
Collins without any assistance except from Jane. Her lips
lifted slightly as she recalled Jane’s attempts to deflect the
conversation.
She brushed her hair slowly, thinking of her family. She
had never been blind to the faults of her family circle, but
she was becoming increasingly aware of the harm in their
behavior. As if being practically penniless is not enough of
a hindrance. Perhaps we could attract more sensible suitors
were it not for the insensibility of our own family. Ignoring
the horrible circumstances propelling her latest proposal, at
least Elizabeth did not doubt his intelligence. She finally
admitted that she was flattered to excite such a confidence
from a man like Mr. Darcy and she could not but admire
his principles. While she would never accept a man sole-
ly for his wealth, she knew London was full of Caroline
Bingleys who would. He could have chosen to marry one
She could not help but remember Mr. Collins words
from two days ago, “It is by no means certain that anoth-
er offer of marriage will ever be made you”. She was not
so certain that she would never receive another offer but
his words, and her family’s behavior, did give her pause.
Although, I may hope for no more such singular off ers. The
thought made her reluctantly giggle, the first girlish giggle
5
passing her lips in two days before sobering. But an off er
from such a wealthy, connected and powerful man? That was
unlikely, nearly impossible.
Can I accept a man based on his admiration, my pity, and
my own distress? I do not know! I have been so mistaken, so
misguided, I do not know what to think!
The brush clattered nosily onto the vanity. Almost ev-
erything I knew about Mr. Darcy has been incorrect. How
mortifying to credit Mr. Wickham’s assertions, and display a
partiality for such a man. I could not have been more blind if
I had been in love.
She yanked on the ribbon as she tied it around her curls.
Even if his story about Mr. Darcy and the living were true,
and I can not trust any account from him now, nothing could
justify such villainy. Mr. Darcy may very well be proud and
reserved, but what had I based my dislike upon beyond an
uncivil remark wounding my vanity?
Sinking onto the cool sheets, she pounded the pillow
mercilessly. Certainly if there was any excuse for incivility, Mr.
Darcy should be excused. If I am to be pressured into marriage,
I can marry someone of my choosing, and clever, wealthy, and
handsome suitors do not come around often. His pride is noth-
ing in comparison with Mr. Collins’ servility to his patroness
and his utter lack of sense. Elizabeth eventually drifted off
into an uneasy slumber, still undecided on her fate.
Miss Bennet’s relations, I have nothing further to add.”
Particularly since they will be my relations as well.
Miss Bingley could not keep silent at such provocation.
“Upon my word, you change your opinions quickly. Barely
over a month ago, you said of Miss Bennet, ‘she a beauty,
I would soon call her mother a wit’, only to later speak
of your admiration for her ‘fine eyes’. Now you no lon-
ger think their low connections lessen their chances of an
advantageous marriage. Has your admiration of her eyes
blinded yours?”
Darcy turned a sharp gaze toward her, watching her
flush then pale. “I will admit I consider Miss Elizabeth as
one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance. I am
still determined not to interfere in another man’s affairs.
If you are finished, I need to attend to some urgent busi-
ness.” Darcy bowed, then exited the drawing room, leav-
ing both ladies various degrees of incredulous, mortified,
and stunned.

Darcy’s hopes for a quiet return to Netherfield were

quickly dashed as Bingley’s sisters cornered him at their
first opportunity.
“You must do something, Mr. Darcy. We should all go
to London and convince Charles to stay there. He is about
to make a most imprudent marriage…” Darcy touched his
fingers to his left temple, trying to stem his faint head-
ache as he listened to her account. He knew Miss Bingley
was prone to exaggeration, but he also knew she was not a
liar. He had no doubt the substance of her account of the
Bennet family’s impropriety was accurate. What can I be
thinking to connect myself to such a family? Even a fortnight
ago, I would never have considered it. Thankfully, Pemberley
is a long way from Longbourn, and I have worse evils before
me.
When Miss Bingley reached the end of her narrative and
drew a breath, Darcy interjected, “I just returned from
London and have no intentions of leaving today, even if I
wished it. As it stands, I am in no position to interfere in
Bingley’s affairs.”
“Mr. Darcy,” Mrs. Hurst began, “You have kept my
brother from attaching himself to other undesirable ladies.
Last season with Miss Rhys, for instance.”
“Yes, but Miss Rhys is a flirtatious, unprincipled for-
tune hunter, not a proper lady. If he does not object to
6

Chapter 3
E
lizabeth slowly walked toward her designated ren-
dezvous, her limbs seeming heavier with each step.
I can yet change my mind. She saw Mr. Darcy in
the distance, his frame shockingly upright even
amongst the towering trees. As he turned to face her, the
slight flicker of warmth in his green eyes convinced her.
She was amazed at such an occasion, he could still dis-
play the same cold, well-bred manners. He appeared per-
fectly calm while her heart pounded painfully. He inquired
sedately, “Have you reached a decision, Miss Elizabeth?”
She swallowed violently, forcing the sound into her
throat. “I have. I accept your offer.”
He gave her a brilliant smile, she assumed of relief.
“Thank you. I would like to speak to your father today,
with your permission.”
Elizabeth tried to control her blush. “Before you go to
my father, there is something I should tell you since you
have been so forthright with me. My cousin, Mr. Collins,
has applied to my parents with an offer of marriage.”
Darcy’s brows knit in confusion. “He applied to your
parents without asking you?”
Elizabeth laughed nervously. “No, It is even more ridic-
ulous as I refused him already. Longbourn is entailed upon
Mr. Collins and my parents, especially my mother, have
lectured and scolded me for two days even though I can-
not, I will not, accept him.”
Darcy silently pressed his handkerchief into her hand as
all the contrary emotions trickled down her cheeks. While
she composed herself, he said, “I am sorry, Miss Elizabeth.
It sounds like a horrible business.”
Nodding her head, Elizabeth gathered her courage, de-
termined to satisfy her curiosity. “I suppose we should re-
turn to the subject of our own engagement. I must admit
I am uneasy.” She could feel her face crimson but she was
determined. “How are we going to conceal your sister’s
condition and convince the world that I am….with child?”
She saw Darcy’s face turn as red as hers felt as he out-
lined his plans. Too awkward to speak and assuming he
probably felt likewise, she turned her head away, watching
the last of the autumn leaves swirl past her ankles.
 any conception of; her friend’s scheme to secure Elizabeth
At an appropriate hour, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley
called on the ladies. Once Mr. Collins discovered the gen-
tleman’s connection to Lady Catherine, his unremitting
soliloquy deepened at the same pace as the furrow on Mr.
Darcy’s brow. His expression was grave and silent and he
looked at Jane and Bingley as often as he looked upon her-
self. She nearly exhaled audibly in relief when Mr. Darcy
made his excuses to seek her father, claiming business to
the astonishment of most of the drawing room.
Elizabeth was amazed at her discomposure; Lydia’s
squabble with Kitty over a snip of ribbon nor Mr. Collins’s
ridiculousness could distract her. She was uncertain what
emotion dominated when Mr. Darcy returned with a reas-
suring smile, discreetly informng her of her father’s request
for her presence in the library.
Her father appeared grave and sad. “Mr. Darcy informs
me that you have consented to marry him.”
“I have, Papa.”
Her father shot her a disbelieving look before a mask of
sad acceptance reigned. “I have given him my consent. I
can hardly afford to refuse him anything.”
Taking a steadying breath after a beat or two of silence,
Elizabeth said, “We want to be married by the end of next
month.”
He looked as if he wished to protest but he did not. “As
you wish, Lizzy, but you have to obtain your mother’s
agreement. I would ask you to wait until tomorrow on ac-
count of Mr. Collins.”
Mr. Bennet removed his spectacles, laying them upon
his mahogany desk. He rubbed the bridge of his nose dis-
tractedly before he could finally speak. “At least I will soon
have my library back to myself. Very well, my child. Have
Hill send Mr. Collins in.”
Elizabeth quickly fled, happy to conclude the distaste-
ful business. Unfortunately, her peace was not of long
duration. The turmoil caused by two insensible people
not obtaining their goal was not to be underestimated.
Between Mr. Collins’s and Mrs. Bennet’s complaints of
how ill Elizabeth used each of them, every inhabitant of
Longbourn was disturbed. Her only consolation was that
the gentlemen had already returned to Netherfield. She
soon realized, without Darcy’s proposal, her refusal of Mr.
Collins would make life at Longbourn intolerable as one
day of her father’s disappointed silence combined with her
mother’s vocal ire had been miserable.
She was grateful for her family’s plans to dine at Lucas
Lodge that evening. An evening of respite from the ire of
her mother, the snickers of her younger sisters and the an-
gry pride of Mr. Collins could be nothing but welcome.
She glanced appreciatively at Charlotte for diverting his
attentions to herself. Elizabeth could not have known
Charlotte’s kindness extended farther than Elizabeth had
from any return of Mr. Collins’s addresses, by engaging
them towards herself, was thankfully concealed.

7
Mr. Darcy called again the next morning, as soon as
politeness dictated. He recognized, with some discomfort,
only Jane and Elizabeth were not dismayed by his pres-
ence. Jane’s warm, genuine smile and Elizabeth’s attempt
to smile were a sharp contrast to the astonishment and irri-
tation of the other ladies. He never appreciated Jane more
than when she suggested, “Mama, I do think we should
show Mr. Darcy our winter garden. May Lizzy and I ac-
company him?”
Mrs. Bennet no doubt felt importuning Elizabeth with
Mr. Darcy’s company a just repayment for her disappoint-
ing refusal the day before. She turned toward Elizabeth
with a sniff, “I need you in the house, Jane, but Lizzy may
show him if he likes.”
Upon his avowed eagerness to see the garden, he and
Elizabeth headed outside. She found the silence of their
walk surprisingly comfortable. I suppose silent moments
have been precious treasures of late, she mused, startling
when he spoke.
“How are you faring this morning, Elizabeth?”
She tried to control the blush at hearing his informal
address suddenly realizing how much her relationship with
Mr. Darcy would change. “I am well, sir.”
“I hope you will call me Fitzwilliam. That is my name,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
She let out a small laugh. “I suppose that is important
information. Please do call me Elizabeth, if you like, but
I hope you do not mind if I work up to using your name.
Everything seems so sudden.”
“Quite so,” he agreed quietly, drifting into a momen-
tary silence, until suddenly pulling a small pouch from his
pocket. “I have something for you.”
He revealed a exquisite ring, reducing Elizabeth to an
astonished gasp. The oval, deep blue sapphire flashed with
light blue sparks as it caught the sunlight. Surrounding it
were small round diamonds adding their own layer of bril-
liance. Darcy gave her a slightly abashed smile. “I know
that engagement rings are not fashionable but this ring has
been reserved for the future Mrs. Darcy for many genera-
tions. I will not take offense if you choose not to wear it,
but it belongs to you.”
Elizabeth looked at him in amazement as she stam-
mered a reply. “Mr. Darcy, I would be…honored…to wear
it.” Elizabeth carefully secured the ring into her sleeve and
took a deep breath as they returned indoors.
 Elizabeth looked at her earnestly, squeezing her hand.
“Jane, you did everything you could and more than you
That evening, Elizabeth immediately took up the task
of convincing her mother. Hearing the news, her mother
sat completely still for several minutes, before jumping up
and exclaiming, “Good gracious! Lord bless me! only think!
dear me! Mr. Darcy! Who would have thought it! And is it
8
really true? Oh! my sweetest Lizzy! how rich and how great
you will be! What pin money, what jewels, what carriages
you will have! I am so pleased—so happy. Such a charming
man!—so handsome! so tall!—Oh, my dear Lizzy! pray
apologize for my having disliked him so much before. I
hope he will overlook it. Dear, dear Lizzy. A house in town!
Every thing that is charming! Ten thousand a year! Oh,
Lord! What will become of me. I shall go distracted.”
Having baited her trap, Elizabeth then explained about
their wedding date. “Dearest child, what can you be think-
ing? We shall need more time to plan, more time to gather
your trousseau. I think February would suit better.”
Elizabeth felt a mischievous delight in shrugging in-
differently. “As you think best, Mama, but I do hope Mr.
Darcy will not mind. He is a man accustomed to his way,
and if we oppose his wishes, he might reconsider.”
“You are a clever girl! Yes, yes, I do believe you may be
right. We will have to shop in Meryton but I daresay we
can have sister Gardiner bring the finest fabrics from town
when she arrives the day after tomorrow. Dear Lord! I must
send the express directly if it is to reach my sister. How
fortunate she and the children are coming early.” Elizabeth
bit her lip, remembering her mother’s complaints just that
morning on the inconsideration of her sister’s visit so soon
after Mr. Collins’ departure, but she dared not comment.
Eventually, Elizabeth plead a headache and retired, hop-
ing the heavy walnut doors would provide enough silence.
Her mother’s chatter at dinner, his father’s composed si-
lence and her sisters’ stunned amazement did little for her
equanimity. She could have hardly been at fault if she did
have a headache, considering the varied, unsettling emo-
tions of the previous two days. And there’s still more to come,
she thought soberly.
Hearing a quiet knock, Elizabeth responded with trepi-
dation only to be slightly alleviated when Jane entered the
room.
“I hope I am not disturbing you, dear Lizzy.”
“Jane, I am never sorry to see you.” Elizabeth was ex-
tremely upset upon seeing the pale color of her sister’s
cheeks as she stepped into the candlelight.
“Lizzy, I want to congratulate you, and I do, but I am
worried for you. I think Mr. Darcy is a fine man, indeed,
his admiration of you would be enough in itself to secure
my good opinion, but a marriage without affection to a
man you dislike…oh Lizzy. I feel this is all my fault. I
should have done something when our parents forced Mr.
Collins on you.”
know. You remained my only comfort for days, dearest sis-
ter. You must not think I dislike Mr. Darcy for it is not
true.” She could hardly qualify what she did feel, but she
did not dislike him. “I know my opinion of him was very
poor and immoderately expressed, but after knowing him
better, I agree with you that he improves upon further
acquaintance. I admire and respect him or I would never The next day, Mr. Collins stole toward Lucas Lodge at
consider it.” first light, throwing himself at Charlotte’s feet, much to
Jane looked perplexed. “What about the history you re- her and her relatives delight. Upon his acceptance, he im-
lated regarding Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickham?” mediately took leave of Longbourn and Elizabeth could
She longed to reveal everything but she dared not. not have been more relieved to see him go. Such an insen-
Burdening Jane would not make her easier. Besides, it sible man, who had caused so much trouble, could be little
is Mr. Darcy’s secret, not mine. “I have not discussed Mr. missed.
Wickham’s story with him yet, but I do believe in Mr.
Darcy’s character.”
Jane was silent, turning over the news in her mind.
Finally, she spoke. “Lizzy, I do congratulate you. If you
think you feel enough, I am content.”

Darcy returned to Netherfield and made arrange-

ments to return to London in the morning. Finishing his
instructions for departure and a large stack of expresses, he
finally sat back with a sigh. He longed to send for a tray
and recuperate from the flurry of activity, but he knew he
could not rest yet.
He had planned to wait until the end of the evening to
announce his engagement, but Miss Bingley provided the
perfect opportunity at the start of dinner.
“Mr. Darcy, what have you been doing so secretly, sir?
No one knew your whereabouts this morning, you have
been in your chambers all afternoon and now you’re re-
turning to London. Your actions appear most mysterious.”
“It was not my intention to mystify anyone. I have been
making arrangements for my marriage.”
Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst’s soup spoons made an in-
elegant clank as they dropped into their respective bowls.
Mr. Hurst paused for a moment then resumed eating while
Mr. Bingley froze. Miss Bingley recovered her speech first,
her voice sounding amusingly strangled. “Your…marriage?
Who is the fortunate bride?”
“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.” The pronouncement caused
Bingley’s soup spoon to join the din.
“Darcy,” Bingley said jovially with a delighted smile.
“When did all of this come about?”
“I finalized the arrangements with Miss Elizabeth’s fa-
ther today.”
Miss Bingley managed a polite, if unsteady, tone.
“How…unexpected.”
Bingley laughed cheerfully. “It should not be so very un-
expected to you, Caroline. You have been teasing Darcy
about his preference for Miss Elizabeth for weeks. She’s an
admirable lady, Darcy, and I wish you both very happy.”
The rest of the party echoed their host, some more sin-
cerely than others.


9

Chapter 4
E
lizabeth was immediately caught up in wedding
preparations. Her aunt arrived two days after
Darcy’s departure, armed with fashion magazines
and fabric. Between appointments with the seam-
stress in Meryton and the flurry of sewing happening at
home, her fingers ached and her skin felt like a pin cush-
ion. It seemed her family and most of Meryton were sew-
ing enough garments for half a dozen women as she was
fitted for a whirlwind of dresses, bonnets, gloves, stocking
and undergarments. She began to feel a sense of excite-
ment, laughing with her mother, aunts and sisters over lace
and fabric and growing wistful realizing she soon would
be leaving her childhood home behind.
Her only cause for revulsion came in the form of Mr.
Wickham, his attentions causing considerable distress
when he visited Longbourn with some of his fellow offi-
cers. After offering his congratulations, he said with a look
of cold calculation, “I must admit, your news has taken
me by surprise. No one suspected Darcy of having any at-
tachments.”
“Mr. Darcy is very discreet to be sure.” She took great
care to keep her tone light and cool as she sipped the tea
from her cup.
The malicious gleam in his eyes caused her to avert her
gaze momentarily as she drew a quick breath. “I know
all too well how prudence must conquer preference. We
all must be aware of our own interests. I hope you know
yours.”
“I believe I do.” Elizabeth spoke calmly, internally seeth-
ing at a man so cruelly, heinously deceptive. She had not
thought so very ill of Mr. Darcy before his insinuations of
treachery. When she recalled his remarks of Miss Darcy,
a young girl he seduced, she felt a white hot choler settle
upon her.
“I see you are wearing Darcy’s ring. I will say, he is likely
to show you every consideration. His pride will not allow
for less.”
She looked down at her ring fondly, the blue stone shin-
ing brilliantly against the yellow of her gown. Recalling
Mr. Darcy’s gentle, almost shy manner of presenting her
heirloom ring and his promises to protect her, she could
only say, “Mr. Wickham, on that I quite agree.”
 lady who would do so against her will.”
ENGAGEMENTS MUST BE CONTAGIOUS, Elizabeth thought when
she walked into the drawing room the next morning, dis-
mayed at her apparent interruption of a private moment
10
between her sister and Mr. Bingley. He whispered in her
ear, before enthusiastically heading toward the library.
“Oh dearest Lizzy! I can not believe it. Oh, why can not
everybody be so happy?”
Elizabeth smiled brilliantly at the sparkling radiance
of her sister. “Until we have your goodness, we can never
have your happiness.” Jane left to speak to her mother, and
Elizabeth’s smile slowly faded, as she carefully considered
what she had said.

Collapsing in his chair, Mr. Bennet shook his head
sadly after Bingley left the library. All my scheming with
Fanny and Mr. Collins was unnecessary. Jane will make a
brilliant love match with Mr. Bingley and I have left my
Lizzy to suff er the worst of fates.
Even if I could prevail Lizzy to break the engagement, I
do not dare. Their engagement has spread all over Meryton
and Darcy and Bingley are friends. The gossip would be di-
sastrous, and between the gossip and their friendship, Jane’s
engagement could be jeopardized and I can not allow it. He
coughed as he looked into the fire, nearly in tears at what
he had done.

Georgiana sat in her parlor, a painful contrast to the
cheerful yellow hue of the space. She almost seemed to
shrink into the elegant blue settee as she gazed numbly at
her needlework. Darcy felt her flinch when he moved to sit
by her before she emitted an unsteady sigh.
Mindful of the tense stillness of the room, Darcy began
in a calm, yet awkward, tone, “Dearest, I have some news
for you. I am sure you have wondered what we are to do
about your expectancy.” He saw her stiffen as she contin-
ued her stitches. “I have decided to marry and raise the
child as my own.”
She looked up although she had yet to turn her head
and meet his eye. She forlornly whispered, “Brother, you
can not. A lady would never willingly…”
Darcy pursed his lips as he saw her hand shake. Realizing
she was unlikely to speak, he continued, “You remember
Miss Elizabeth Bennet from my letters, dearest? She has
agreed to assist us and I promise you, she’s not the type of
Georgiana turned her gaze on him as she asked solemn-
ly, “She knows about me and the…child? Why then? Why
would she do such a thing?”
“I told you how she cared for her sister when Miss Bennet
became ill.” He tenderly touched her cheek, relieved when
she did not startle. “She loves her sister and understands
how very much I love you.”
He wiped the tears from her cheeks as he wrapped an
arm cautiously around her shoulders. He felt her turn
her face and bury it in the crook of his arm before she
spoke. “I have ruined my life and now yours. If I had not
been so foolish, none of this would be happening. You are
being forced into marriage because of my mistakes. Oh
Fitzwilliam, I am so sorry.”
“Please…Georgiana,” he whispered brokenly, stricken
to the heart. “I am marrying Elizabeth because I want to.
I have a great deal of affection for her, so you must not
think you’re ruining me.” He kissed the top of her head
gently. “Everything will be well, dearest.”

Darcy noticed the letter with unfamiliar, yet distinct-
ly female handwriting. Seeing the postmark, he slightly
smiled as he quickly opened the letter, soon turning dis-
mayed at its contents.
“…his insinuations about your denial of his rightful profes-
sion (which I have credited as some form of falsehood) pales to
our conversation of yesterday.
He has no power over me, I assure you, but his continual
presence before my family and his knowledge of their connec-
tion to you, causes my unease. I dislike adding to your burdens
when you have so many, but I knew you would understand
my distress and perhaps know of a way to remove him from
the vicinity. I hope you and your sister are in good health.
Best regards & etc.,
Elizabeth Bennet”
How had Wickham managed to be in Hertfordshire, of
all the places in the kingdom? Why did not she tell me? His
eyes widened as he recalled her recognition of Wickham’s
name the day he proposed. He gave a slight shrug and
shook his head. I suppose that detail was lost. It is not as if
we did not have an abundance of topics to discuss.
He felt the indignation cause a flush on his face. After
what Wickham’s done, he has the nerve to spread tales. I
should not be surprised. He has always delighted in turning
those I care about against me. Father never could see him for
the snake he was and Georgiana…. The thought of that man
in proximity to his fiancee caused him to shift uncomfort-
ably in his chair. Elizabeth is correct. He is a menace that I
must eliminate. But how?
Suddenly a gleam entered his eye. I will finally be rid of
him, at least for some duration. He began to write another
letter, his lips settled in a line of grim satisfaction.
After finishing his letter, he noticed with surprise that
Elizabeth’s letter was not the only one from Hertfordshire,
although this time he recognized the writing all too well.
Knitting his brow in concentration, he reached the end of
the letter and sighed. I hope you know what you’re doing,
Bingley, although I rather doubt it.
Darcy had observed Jane carefully during his visit with
Bingley at Longbourn, and saw little indication she re-
turned his regard. He thought upon all of the times past
he interfered with his friend’s love affairs and felt slightly
guilty at his refusal to assist Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.
Yet how could I interfere? I could not object to their connec-
tions and I have been worrying over my own crisis. Perhaps if
I would told him of her indiff erence…
He gave a resigned sigh. Well, if he will attach himself
to someone unsuitable, at least he found a well-bred, polite
lady. Miss Bennet has never acted anything but properly se-
rene. Thinking on all that had happened to him recently,
he could only add, it could be much worse.

Darcy looked at the earl wearily as his uncle began to
speak. After a virulent confrontation with Lady Catherine
on the preceding day, he felt unequal to another family
squabble. “I shall be frank, Fitzwilliam. I can not imagine
what you’re thinking to throw yourself away on such a girl.
I am most seriously displeased. Catherine says your fiancée
is the cousin of her clergyman and comes from a family of
loose girls of poor connections and little wealth.”
“You know my aunt speaks from her disappointment over
Anne, and her clergyman—well, you know the type of man
she requires.” They both shared a wry smile. “Uncle, I know
Miss Bennet is not what you expect. I never expected such
a match for myself but she personally is very admirable and
will not harm my name. She’s neither an seductress nor a
fortune hunter, but a proper, worthy young lady.”
His uncle looked at him for a long moment, his green
eyes piercing him. “If you were John or Richard, I do not
know if I would believe you, but I have never known you
to be entangled with anyone not of the highest character. I
will wait to reserve judgment but I am very disappointed.
When is the blessed day?”
Darcy cared little for his uncle’s sarcasm but answered
anyway. “The 21st of December.”

Elizabeth sat by the fire watching her young cousins
as they played on the floor, thinking upon her own im-
pending motherhood. She had never been overly fond of
children besides her own cousins. Unlike Jane, who was
always eager to pick up and play with babies, she had
been content to daydream while the neighborhood women
swapped stories on the delights of their children.
11
 She would not even be raising her own biological child,
a child she had nurtured and carried within her body. I
must find a way to love the baby with all my heart. How un-
fair it would be to treat him diff erently than our other chil-
dren.
Other children. Of course we shall have other children.
Certainly not right away, but eventually, he will want to…
exercise his rights. Her cheeks turned bright red and her lips
parted as she nervously toyed with a lock of hair around
her right ear. I have no intention of refusing my own hus-
band, but… Lost in thoughts of all the unknowns of the
future, she nearly missed Jane’s admonishment.
“Lizzy, you look flushed. I think you’re too close to the
fire.”
“Yes, Jane, I think you are right.”
12
Chapter 5
D
arcy returned to Hertfordshire a fortnight
after his departure, his every step sharp and
deliberate as he followed the magistrate into
the barracks. His eyes remained cool and im-
passive when Wickham was informed of his arrest.
“Darcy, what is the meaning of this?” Darcy almost
smiled, noticing the unease in his former playmate’s eyes.
“I should think it obvious, Wickham. I have come to
collect on your debts. You must admit, the payment is
long overdue.”
He saw the man’s eyes widen in comprehension before
Wickham’s face settled into its usual arrogance. “I have to
give you credit, Darcy. I knew you had connections, but I
never thought You had resort to deceit to be rid of me.”
Darcy asked the magistrate for a moment of privacy and
turned toward Wickham. His eyes flickered with anger as
his clipped tones crackled in the small room. “Deceit is
your domain, not mine. You are being sent to Fleet prison
for your debts. Surely you did not think you would quit
Derbyshire without my assuming the debts you invariably
leave behind. Your trade and gaming debts were substantial
but the price was well worth it to be rid of you now.” He felt
a sense of satisfaction when fear entered Wickham’s eyes.
“I will not say anything…about Georgiana…..if you
leave off. I could go to Canada or India. A small commis-
sion…”
“….is a consideration unnecessary and wholly unde-
served. I am through wasting my benevolence on you.
Unless you have the funds to pay your debts, and we both
know you do not, I have every right to send you to prison.”
Wickham glanced at him in desperation. “Your father
would have never allowed you to do this to me.”
Darcy took a step closer to the man and thought of
punching a man for the first time as a grown man. He
replied in a voice dangerously low, “You dare bring Father
into this after what you have done to Georgiana? You are
disgusting.”
His tone turned chillier along with his eyes. “I should
have exposed you for what you are years ago. Bringing
yourself to my notice this summer was a grave mistake,
Mr. Wickham, and imposing on my fiancée was the height
of madness.” Darcy turned on his heel and headed back to
his carriage.
Darcy’s face was full of disdain as he silently sat at the
dinner table the next evening. The family at Longbourn
seemed determined to do as little credit to themselves as
possible. Mrs. Bennet had seated him to her right, bless-
edly speechless, unless to show deference to his opinion.
When she began eff using over his preference for pheasant
with far more spirit than the subject required, he had sup-
pressed a sigh.
He tried not to stare outright at the two youngest,
shocked by their accounts of their beaus in the militia un-
til their father proclaimed them “two of the silliest girls
in England”. He could not but agree with the sentiment,
however inappropriately expressed by the girls’ own father.
Darcy found ample reasons to disapprove of Mr. Bennet
and his neglect of his family. He had the means to provide
for a governess and to set aside some funds for his daughters’
futures. With a family of five daughters, only a certain amount
of economy was possible, and yet, he should have made some
eff ort. To leave his children with so few resources is intolerable.
While Mr. Bennet seemed an intelligent man, Darcy
could not but feel a certain dislike toward him for pres-
suring Elizabeth to marry her cousin. Darcy shuddered to
think of her wasting away in Kent, her lively, witty spirits
irretrievably dulled by his overbearing aunt and her repul-
sive parson. Marriages are based on wealth and connection all
of the time, but nothing can justify asking a daughter to un-
willingly bind herself to such a man. Even if she had refused
the obsequious parson, for her to remain in Longbourn sur-
rounded by such negligence…she is much better off with me.
His expression immediately softened when he recog-
nized the embarrassment on the faces of the two eldest
Bennet girls. Both of them, in concert with Mrs. Gardiner,
had discreetly attempted to check the youngest girls im-
proper talk, to little avail. Sitting at the table with her fam-
ily, Darcy was more amazed by her than ever. How could
two such excellent ladies emerged from such a family?
Elizabeth thankfully turned the conversation as she pre-
vailed upon Mrs. Gardiner to relate some anecdotes from
the latest play in London. Darcy was pleased at the intel-
ligence and good breeding in the lady from Cheapside and
her husband. The couple’s four children, while display-
ing the customary exuberance of all young children, had
been well mannered in the time he spent with them in the
drawing room. He decided that Elizabeth and Jane could
not always have been at Longbourn; they must have spent
considerable time with their relations in London. He won-
dered, not for the first time, what Elizabeth might have
accomplished with the resources of a Miss Darcy. His lips
curved slightly. The world is about to find out what she can
accomplish as Mrs. Darcy.
 connections of importance and with a family whose be-
Darcy and Elizabeth walked in the garden, each try-
ing to ignore the giggling faces of her two youngest sisters
visible through the window. They walked in harmonious
steps, dead leaves crunching beneath their feet, as their
companionable silence echoed the stillness of the winter
air. Shielding Elizabeth from view, he turned to face her,
lifting her hand for a gentle kiss.
“Thank you for wearing the ring. My mother always wore
it and I have such happy memories associated with it.”
Seeing the sad look on his face, and trying to ignore the
sensations he produced with his kiss, she answered softly,
“You must have loved her very much.”
“Yes, I did.” He added so quietly, Elizabeth was not cer-
tain if he meant to speak aloud, “You remind me of her
in some ways. Not so much in manner but she was very
witty and had an unmistakable presence. In manner, she
reminds me more of Georgiana, at least how she was…be-
fore this summer.”
“Tell me, Mr. Darcy, about your sister.” He seemed puz-
zled by her question, until she clarified, “I know very little
other than Miss Bingley’s list of her accomplishments.”
He smiled a little. “Miss Bingley is rather voluminous
on the subject, but there is little she can say which I would
not agree. Georgiana is rather accomplished. She plays
beautifully and draws very well.” His tone suddenly shift-
ed. “Before…Ramsgate…she had a smile which lit up the
room.” He looked away sadly and sighed.
Obeying her instinct before she could think, Elizabeth
placed her hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly.
Blushing when he glanced warmly upon her, she dropped
her hand quickly, but said softly, “I am sorry.” Turning
away, she said with an abashed smile, “Mama insists that I
remain indoors until the wedding. She will be downstairs
soon and I should precede her.” With his accepting nod,
they entered the warmth of the house.

The night before the wedding found Darcy in his
chamber, staring at the same words of the volume in his
lap, his thoughts riveted on the evening that had trans-
pired at Longbourn. He had seated himself in his preferred
chair in the farthest corner, content to observe Elizabeth
embroidering, caught by the graceful elegance of her wrist
moving over the fabric. He thought, not for the first time
during the last fortnight, what a remarkable, handsome
woman she was.
He had been struck by the unexpected twist his life had
taken. While not mercenary, he certainly never conceived
a marriage with a woman of practically no fortune, no
havior incited his reproach. Nevertheless, he could not be
truly sorry if he did still feel regret over Elizabeth’s cir-
cumstances. When he decided on her, he knew his deci-
sion was sound in light of his predicament.
13
 Even her initial statement of not feeling enough affec-
tion for him to marry him, had been a perverse source of
comfort. How many women of his acquaintance would
have dared to even consider it? Women with much more
wealth and much brighter prospects would not have hesi-
tated to accept, circumstances notwithstanding. He nev-
er would have been certain to whom they would reveal
Georgiana’s condition nor how they would treat her and
the baby to come.
The thought of spending his life with her was exhilarat-
ing, although he did not exactly approve of the emotion.
He imagined bringing her to Pemberley and indulging in
the light of her presence as he conversed, and even more
likely, debated, with her. She is the only woman living, except
for Georgiana, whose constant society I have ever desired and
my aff ection for Elizabeth is certainly not sisterly. Thinking
of the privileges that would soon be his, and quickly sup-
pressing a thought towards the privileges he would have
later, he soon retired.

Three miles away, his bride-to-be was caught in reflec-
tions of her own. Elizabeth supposed she had been silly
to relive her girlish days by spending the night in Jane’s
room, but Jane had seemed to enjoy her company. They
had giggled almost as boisterously as Lydia and Kitty, re-
calling stories of their girlhood adventures in the environs
around Longbourn.
Her smile quickly faded as she began thinking upon her
marriage in the morning. In all her girlhood fantasies of
marriage, she dreamed of falling in love with a charming
sea captain as they sailed away together or perhaps a for-
eign prince taking her on a romantic journey to an exotic
land. Nowhere in her childhood had been the image of a
marriage where she felt little more than esteem and respect
for a silently stern, serious gentleman whom she did not
wholly comprehend. Even as her view of marriage matured
and became more practical, she thought she’d feel a degree
of affection for the man whom she married.
Even so, she mused in the intimate silence of her girl-
hood chamber, in the actual world, I have seen very few
marriages based on even the promises of esteem and respect.
She thought of her own ill-suited parents and the impend-
ing wedding of Charlotte and Mr. Collins. In my world,
full of marriages based on the sacrifice of every better feeling
to worldly advantage, I am as happy as any woman has a
right. Mr. Darcy is likely correct; with time and familiarity,
contentment will surely come. He is certainly been kind to me
and very generous as well. Unbidden, she thoughts drifted
to her aunt and uncle Gardiner and her sister and Bingley,
and quickly repressed a sliver of doubt as she blew out the
candle.
14

The next day dawned brightly as the winter sun gently
warmed the ground. Elizabeth walked to the chapel with
her sisters, taking care to mind her gown. When she had
glanced at herself before leaving, she scarcely recognized
her own reflection. The woman in the mirror looked so
pretty, so splendidly elegant as to render her a stranger.
She took a deep breath, spying the modest stone building
where she would join her life with another.
The walk to the wedding breakfast was remarkably dif-
ferent. Now on the arm of her husband, she reflected on
the ceremony. Those words she had heard so many times
before took on a new meaning. She remembered the prom-
ises and vows and as she caught Darcy’s gaze, so soft and
warm upon her, felt a sliver of hope.

Thomas Bennet watched silently as his daughter
and her new husband prepared to leave after the wedding
breakfast. He knew something in her had altered the day
he had forced Mr. Collins’ proposal and he was saddened
by the loss of intimacy between them. He gazed again at
the fastidious, quiet gentleman and wondered anew if she
really knew what she was about.
He forced himself to acknowledge her husband was an
excellent man, in his own way, and he could not keep from
begrudgingly respecting Darcy. He wondered if a similar
sensation happened to Elizabeth. Certainly, Darcy remained
cold and uninviting but there was a softness in his eyes, and
a slight warmth in his tone when he spoke to Elizabeth. She
could have done worse. He repressed a shudder and a cough
as he contemplated what could have happened if he had pre-
vailed upon Lizzy to accept Mr. Collins. I can not believe
I considered giving her to such a foolish man no matter the
reasons. Elizabeth could have never been respectable in such a
marriage. I only hope she can be respectable in this one.
Darcy placed his hand on the small of her back as
Elizabeth tearfully made her farewells. Elizabeth did not
understand how the pressure could be so reassuring when
her feelings were so ambiguous toward her husband. Her
three youngest sisters and mother she took leave of with
some composure. Even her aunt and uncle she had man-
aged to say her farewells calmly, knowing she would see
them in London soon. But when she turned to hug Jane,
she felt herself tremble. She assumed Mr. Darcy felt it as
well, since she felt an increase of pressure on her back.
“Goodbye Jane,” she whispered as she clung to her sister.
“I do not know how I shall do without you to remind me
to be patient and think before I speak.”
 “You do not do yourself enough justice,” Jane replied as
she wiped her own tears. She clasped Elizabeth tightly. “I
do not know how I shall manage either. Lizzy, you will
write me?”
After her assurances, the sisters parted. “Elizabeth,” Mr.
Darcy said softly. “The carriage awaits us and we should
start our journey before it turns dark.” Elizabeth looked
around her girlhood home once more, trying to remember
the sights and sounds of a beloved home.
She looked up at her husband, grave as usual but his
green eyes held an abundance of compassion and under-
standing. She gave him a small, watery smile. “I am ready,
Mr. Darcy.” She certainly hoped it was true.
Chapter 6
T
he townhouse in London was everything yet nothing
like Elizabeth had expected. She entered the foyer,
the cool marble as formal as the line of servants, all
immaculately dressed in perfect order. She smiled
tentatively at the sea of unfamiliar faces, trying to commit to
memory the names she would need to know immediately.
After their dismissal, she turned toward her new sister, a
renewed loathing toward Wickham washing over her. She
watched the girl’s terror filled eyes before Georgiana skit-
tishly turned away while his words unpleasantly echoed. I
wish I could call her amiable. It gives me pain to speak ill of
a Darcy. But she is too much like her brother,—very, very
proud.—As a child, she was aff ectionate and pleasing, and
extremely fond of me; and I have devoted hours and hours to
her amusement. But she is nothing to me now.
She had expected Georgiana Darcy to be somewhere be-
tween her younger sisters exuberance tempered with Miss
Bingley’s fashionable elegance. To her shock, Georgiana
was an exceedingly shy, frightened girl. I can not imagine a
girl less able to cope. Poor, wretched child. She looked from
her sister’s despondency to Darcy’s grave concern over her,
both touching her heart.
Darcy and Georgiana conducted her on a tour of
the house, though Georgiana never spoke a word. As
they made their way through the expansive townhouse,
Elizabeth felt her apprehension ease slightly. The rooms
were handsomely furnished yet exuded a pleasing sense of
comfort. She shook her head as she realized she was the
mistress of this place.
Once they reached the family chambers, Georgiana
excused herself quietly. Darcy paused at one of the doors,
before reaching for the knob. Quietly, he stated, “Your
chambers, madam.”
Elizabeth felt herself flush and lifted her chin as she
passed before him. She jumped slightly as the door clicked
behind them, feeling silly at her skittishness. Being in his
presence, in a bedchamber, seemed too….too….intimate.
Refusing to acknowledge her discomfort, she focused in-
stead on viewing her chambers.
She was pleased to note her room was decorated in
the tasteful manner of the rest of the house, albeit in a
slightly older style. Every surface in the room was clean
and gleaming, no doubt in anticipation of her arrival. She
was slightly surprised but upon momentary reflection, she
knew she should not be.
Suddenly his voice pierced the silence. “I am certain you
would like to redecorate your chambers. The room has not
been touched since my mother’s death.”
She glanced back at him, relaxing a little at his high
color, relieved to find him appearing no more at ease than
15
herself. “It is a lovely room.” Searching for something to
say, she asked, “Where does this door lead?”
“My chambers.” The low tone of his voice and the slight
change of expression disconcerted her. The only thing she
found more disconcerting was the large mahogany bed,
suddenly overwhelming the space. Hastily, she said, “This
door must lead to the dressing room then.” She quickly
walked to the adjoining wall and away from a territory un-
known.
 her effusions over Pemberley. Finding a selection of foreign
Later, after Mr. Darcy had disappeared through the
disturbing connecting door, Elizabeth sat on her new bed,
staring absently at the beautiful pastoral painting hanging
on the wall. Everything in her room, while refreshingly
comfortable, spoke of an elegant wealth to which she was
unaccustomed. She looked down at her ornately beautiful
wedding band, its metal cool against her skin, and sighed.
At least I shall have several months to become accustomed to
his entering my chambers for any other reasons.
Her new husband was a gentleman, albeit a very wealthy
one; she, a gentleman’s daughter. Before arriving in
London, she had not given it further thought and as she
looked around her, she found her views very foolish. She
thought of the order prevalent throughout the townhouse,
the impeccable service from the servants and slightly shiv-
ered. It was all so different from home, full of barely orga-
nized chaos with very little expectation placed upon her.
In her new room, encased in one of the most fashionable
townhouses in London, she felt very alone, almost as if she
lived in a strange land. Certainly, she would enjoy visiting
her aunt and uncle upon their return to town, but her aunt
had as little experience in the life she had embarked upon
as Elizabeth herself. Her taciturn husband was the sole fa-
miliar presence in this world.
He would be the only person whom she could turn.
All her concerns, all her questions regarding her new role
would have to be addressed to him if she could not deci-
pher her own answers. Well, Mr. Darcy, I believe we are
going to become much more familiar indeed.
 settee, exhausted from the visits of a seemingly endless
Elizabeth awoke the next morning, slightly nervous
and somewhat excited about beginning her new life. After
dressing, she navigated her way to the library, the most re-
assuring room in the house to her mind. The sight of the
numerous volumes, the smell of old books and the cozy
chairs bore the most similarity to her life at Longbourn.
She thought forlornly of all the happy times she and her
16
father had shared there, discussing books and laughing at
the absurdities of the neighborhood. I still can not believe
Papa behaved as he did about Mr. Collins. And when we dis-
cussed my engagement with Mr. Darcy, he said barely a word.
He spent more time in his study during the last two months
than I can ever remember.
Deciding to contemplate a more pleasant subject,
Elizabeth made her way through the maze of books, ab-
sently taking in the size of the room. If Miss Bingley is to be
believed, Pemberley must be something indeed. A smile un-
willingly crossed her lips at the thought of Miss Bingley and
books, she selected a volume and sat in front of the fire.
So engrossed in her book, she did not notice Darcy’s en-
trance a few moments later. She could not know what an
adorable picture she made, a few of her blond locks escap-
ing her hairpins as she distractedly ran her fingers along
her hairline. She seemed exasperated as she muttered, the
crease in her brow deepening.
“Deep thoughts, Mrs. Darcy?” Darcy smiled until she
suddenly jumped up, the volume falling to the floor. “I beg
your pardon, madam. I did not intend to frighten you.”
Her skirts made a swishing sound as she bent to retrieve
her book, looking charmingly flustered. “It is quite al-
right. I decided to improve either my Italian or my French.
Obviously, I should have chosen French.” Smiling archly,
she added, “I thought I could become accomplished more
quickly if I approached them simultaneously.”
He was momentarily puzzled then softly laughed. “I
suppose you refer to knowledge of the modern languages
and improving your mind through extensive reading? I
must commend your ambition.”
She seemed stunned for a moment before replying,
“Perhaps I was too ambitious. My Italian was even more
neglected than I thought.”
“Would it benefit you if I were to assist?”
She gifted him with a surprised, but seemingly pleased,
smile. “I would like that very much, sir.”

The drawing room was finally empty and she was all
alone, much to Elizabeth’s relief. She flung herself on the
stream of callers. And this is winter…I can only imagine
how it’ ll be during the season. The very thought made her
groan.
She now comprehended her husband’s distaste for soci-
ety, if this morning was any indication. So much falseness
and insincerity she had experienced. At least in Meryton,
however vulgar the society, everyone was genuine.
Mr. Darcy’s presence throughout much of the morning
was unexpected and much appreciated. His stern glares
had ended the expression of more than one lady’s improper
curiosity. She no longer questioned why he was attached to
her. While not the most beautiful or highly fashionable wom-
an, I am sincere, even when I am sincerely mistaken. The
majority of women I met today were so tiresome.
Darcy was indeed pleased by his choice of wife. The
morning’s visitors were a clear reminder of everything he
detested and threw Elizabeth’s superiority into striking
contrast. She is so above the malicious gossip, the insipid con-
versation and the petty minds.
Despite her lack of experience in these circles, she had man-
aged the morning extremely well without my assistance. She
had been a charming hostess and fielded the questions with
her customary humor. He had thrown a few pointed glares
at the most impertinent, but he had no doubts Elizabeth
would have handled them splendidly in her own way.
He could only smile, thinking upon his pretty, unaffect-
ed wife whose presence he already enjoyed. His ill man-
nered comments in Meryton seemed so nostalgically ironic
as he now considered his wife altogether too handsome
and too tempting. Unlike most women he had known, she
could not be summed up at first glance as he had initially
attempted to do. She was not merely lovely or simply intel-
ligent, or only charming, but the combination of her traits
combined into a potent force more compelling every day.
He experienced a rush of satisfaction as he peered out
his window onto the fashionable street. In the face of so
much sadness and sacrifice, securing her company is one of the
few sources of pleasure I have experienced.
 that today was the first time she’d played since….Ramsgate.
A few days later, Elizabeth sighed as she stared unsee-
ingly at the papers on her desk, the menus temporarily
forgotten. She was disturbed by her memories of her pale
new sister with her immensely sad eyes. Georgiana had not
spoken a word to her in the days since she arrived and it
troubled her. Surely there is a way I can convince her to at
least speak to me.
After leaving the housekeeper, Elizabeth walked into
Georgiana’s sitting room, music in hand. Georgiana sat
on the blue divan, gazing into the fire, seemingly unaware
of Elizabeth’s presence. A nagging uncertainty struck
Elizabeth, wondering if she should disturb Georgiana’s
reflections. Pushing forward her resolve, she spoke softly,
“Georgiana?”
Startled, Georgiana’s green eyes locked with hers briefly,
gleaming with recognition before she gazed down. “Yes,
Mrs. Darcy?”
“I do hope, if you are comfortable, you will call me
Elizabeth, or Lizzy, like my other sisters.” A look of sur-
prise flashed in Georgiana’s eyes before she glanced away.
“Your brother tells me you play the pianoforte exquisitely
and I have been struggling with a Mozart movement.
Would you help me with it?”
Georgiana nodded and obediently followed to the piano-
forte as Elizabeth set the music down and began to play.
She was midway through the piece when the discordant
notes sounded forth. In apparent frustration, Elizabeth
turned toward her. “Is there any way you could play this
for me? Perhaps if I hear you play it, I can see my mis-
take.”
Georgiana hesitated for a moment before sitting to play.
Her proficient playing filled the room with its warm mel-
ody.

Hours later, Georgiana’s thoughts drifted toward
Mrs. Darcy. She told me to call her Elizabeth or Lizzy. Why?
Her brother’s description of Elizabeth made it impossible
for Georgiana to think her anything but amiable, yet she
was surprised at how kind Elizabeth had been. She had as-
sumed Elizabeth’s efforts were for the benefit of her broth-
er, whom she knew was grieved because of her.
But today, Elizabeth sought her company, when her
brother was no where around. Why would she do that? She
must think me the most wicked girl in England. And yet…I
saw no contempt nor disapproval. Fitzwilliam was correct,
she truly is lovely. I am so pleased, for my brother’s sake. At
least his wife will not be a source of disappointment.
She glanced briefly at the pianoforte, startled to realize
The disgust rolled through her when she recalled playing
for him, being praised by him, never discerning his plans.
Foolish, stupid girl. I deserve all of this. I only hope Elizabeth,
Fitzwilliam and this child will not suff er on account of me.

Elizabeth tried to control her blush when her hus-
band entered the library. He had arrived for the third day
in a row and it dawned upon her that he was purposefully
meeting with her. Why does this feel so strange and improp-
er? He is my husband.
Despite some lingering embarrassment, their meetings
in the library served an important purpose beyond the
improvement of her Italian. If Darcy was charmed by her
witty intelligence, Elizabeth was impressed by his bril-
liant mind. She had long considered him clever, but in the
privacy of their townhouse, he lost a measure of restraint
and she found his company more agreeable. Even during
her stay at Netherfield, he had spoken to her as a person,
instead of automatically dismissing her because she was a
17
woman and now, without the restricting presence of others Elizabeth’s reassuring smile, he followed the gentleman’s
or her own willful prejudice, he was a source of wonder. lead.
His respect for her as a rational, sensible creature only in- Jane soon caught Elizabeth’s attention for a private chat.
creased her admiration of him. Her look was serious as she clasped Elizabeth’s hand. “You
Their ease with books made her more comfortable ap- look well, Elizabeth.”
proaching him with other concerns. Despite sometimes Elizabeth laughed. “I am well, Jane. Mr. Darcy has
feeling very young and very naive, Darcy listed to her care- hardly had time to starve me yet.” Seeing her sister was
fully in his customary serious manner, never making her not satisfied, she returned Jane’s grasp, and repeated her-
feel foolish. Even when she and her father had been close, self earnestly. “I am well.”
she could always depend upon a dose of sarcasm she never
experienced from her new husband. She found she quite
liked his manner toward her.
Darcy felt his own sense of relief. In the tranquility of
the library, they had eased some of the awkwardness be-
tween then. He found himself smiling more than usual,
often hours later recalling one of his wife’s witticisms. He
was also pleased when she began to approach him with
some of her concerns. He had not given much thought to
how much had changed for her and he determined to as-
sist her in the transition. I want her to be as content in my
home as I am to have her here.

Elizabeth entered the dining room, in high spirits as

her husband looked upon her fondly. “What has you so
well pleased, Elizabeth?”
“I received a letter from Jane. It arrived late as she wrote
the direction very ill. She will be arriving tomorrow in
London, to stay with my aunt and uncle.”
Darcy suppressed a groan. It is too much to hope Mrs.
Bennet remains at Longbourn. Aloud, he remarked, “I know
you look forward to seeing Jane.”
She smiled broadly. “Yes, I admit I am. Even more sur-
prising, she writes the rest of my family remain at home.”
He tried to restrain his own smile.

The morning after Jane’s arrival, the Darcy carriage

pulled up to the Gardiner house in Gracechurch street.
Darcy stepped out and immediately handed out two hand-
some ladies, proudly offering each an arm. After greeting
the Gardiners and witnessing Jane and Elizabeth’s enthusi-
astic greeting, he was eventually invited by the gentleman
to retire into his study.
He hesitated for a moment, looking at his sister in con-
cern. She had spoken little but seemed somewhat content
in her present company. Elizabeth sat beside her and in
the present company of Jane, Mrs. Gardiner and the
Gardiner children, he saw no cause for alarm. Catching
18

Chapter 7
W
hen Darcy returned with Mr. Gardiner
into the drawing room, he was unprepared
for the sight greeting him. Georgiana was
on the sofa with young Thomas Edward, a
tiny smile on her lips as the little boy told her a tale of his
adventure in the park. His wife sat in a chair, a few blond
curls grazing the nape of her neck, with Mary Gardiner in
her lap showing Elizabeth her new doll.
The children reminded him of the impending separation
he would have from his sister, causing him a slice of pain.
Despite knowing he and Elizabeth would follow, he could
not help the distress at the thought of letting his sister out
of his sight, which he had been loathe to do since discover-
ing her condition. But even through his dark thoughts, he
also felt a ray of hope.
Seeing the two women he adored most in the world sit-
ting with Elizabeth’s cousins gave him a glimpse of what
was to come at Pemberley. Georgiana’s child, no, my and
Elizabeth’s child, will toddle through the halls, a new genera-
tion of Darcys emerging. Glancing toward Elizabeth, he also
felt a fierce wave of desire at the thought of other children
who would follow. His touched his fingers to his lips for a
moment, envisioning his wife in the nursery at Pemberley
with a few small children surrounding her.
Her dark brown eyes filled with a captivating sparkle
of mirth as Elizabeth observed Bingley, obviously besotted
with her sister. She soon acted upon the impulse to gen-
tly tease Bingley about some of his habitual nonsense, and
then she laughed. Darcy felt his lips lift upon hearing it,
the beautiful, tinkling sound striking a chord in his heart.
 tiously, “I will happily cooperate however I may to allay
The next morning, Mrs. Gardiner sought Elizabeth for a
private talk when she called in Grosvenor Square. She smiled
at her niece affectionately and gripped her hand. “Have I told
you how much I like your husband? I admit to being slightly
concerned before your marriage, but upon further acquain-
tance, I think he is an excellent man. He wants a little more
liveliness, but I think it something you could teach him.”
Elizabeth was a bit bewildered by the comment as she
sipped from the delicate china teacup. She had been bus-
ily occupied in learning from him; the thought of teach-
ing her husband any type of lesson had never crossed her
mind. Abrupting changing the subject, her aunt colored
and said, “I was hoping we might find a time to talk. I
wanted to chat with you before you married, but we never
had a moment alone.”
Elizabeth smiled archly. “Moments alone are a rarity at
Longbourn. What would you like to speak about?”
She noticed with amusement her aunt’s cheeks glow rosy,
until she spoke. “I wanted to talk to you about marital….
obligations. I was not sure what Fanny had told you but I
wanted to…” Her aunt looked away before quickly adding,
“I wanted you to know if you have anything You had like
to ask or any concerns, I am willing to discuss them. You
and Jane are beloved nieces and I want your happiness in
all aspects of married life.”
It was now Elizabeth’s turn to crimson. Mrs. Bennet
conveyed the act of union as possibly pleasurable, with-
in marriage, but Elizabeth had been uncomfortable with
some of her mother’s advice. Consequently, when her
mother later spoke of how to discourage her husband, if
she wished, by mistresses and locked doors, Elizabeth be-
came uncertain of how much of her advice could be relied
upon.
She could only whisper, “Thank you, aunt.” Apparently
relieved, her aunt soon turned the subject. Elizabeth felt
certain if one day she might desire her aunt’s advice, she
would never be able to ask for it.

Elizabeth listened attentively as Darcy explained
the contents of each ledger, grateful her father saw fit to
discuss some of his financial dealings with her during
more pleasant times. She was grateful she at least had some
idea of what to expect. Darcy suddenly looked up from
the ledger with some discomfort.
“I do not want you to think I intend to be ungenerous
but we will have to exercise some moderation and econo-
my.”
Elizabeth blinked in surprise before responding cau-
any difficulties.”
“No, I am explaining myself poorly. I use the bulk of
my personal fortune for investments and improvements to
Pemberley estates and I wish to pass those funds to my
heir. The economy is to supplement your settlement, for
daughters and younger sons.”
Elizabeth thought him endearingly embarrassed as he
added, “I do not wish for you to save from your personal
income nor do I intend for the rooms to fall into disre-
pair or become uncomfortable, but some small measures of
economy will be sufficient.”
She briefly thought of Longbourn, her father complain-
ing of her mother’s spending, while neither corrected the
situation. Mr. Bennet made certain they did not fall into
debt, but neither had there been any economy. In contrast,
the handsome, grave man next to her was concerned for
children who had not been born. Children who, even with-
19
 out his meticulous planning, would have much better pros-
pects than myself or my sisters. Though she did understand
his request; while his settlement on her had been very gen-
erous, if they were to have several children, it would be
divided, and nowhere near the dowry Georgiana had.
Never will one of our daughters need to contemplate accept-
ing a man out of anything except pure inclination. Unable to
resist, Elizabeth leaned over and grazed his cheek with her
lips. Her innocent gesture made her feel shockingly for-
ward as his presence suddenly seemed very powerful. But
those feelings were soon forgotten at his look of pleased
amazement and she watched his fingers touch the spot
where her lips had been.
“Thank you for taking such prodigiously good care of us
all.”
Darcy turned solemn. “I have not always acted so.”
“I have never seen you act otherwise,” she cried earnestly.
“But you are subject to the same limitations which befall
us all.” He walked to the window and stared outside, his
melancholy evident in the tension of his shoulders.
Grasping for something to turn the somber tide, she
forced a smile. “Mr. Darcy,” she said gently, “You had bet-
ter explain this ledger to me again.” He returned to her,
patiently resuming his explanation.
 thought she had broken, but gazing at the dining table,
The mirror reflected a tiny bulge in her midsection to
Georgiana’s eyes as she stood in her shift. For now, it was
indiscernible, but she knew it would not be hidden forever.
In a few months, I shall give birth to a human being. How
will I look upon the baby and not remember?
In spite of all her efforts, she could not help but recall
the horror of the night all her girlish ideals had died. The
night she finally realized Wickham only wanted her mon-
ey and what evil he was willing to commit to secure it. The
memories assaulted her as she dashed away a few despair-
ing tears.
She then recalled him as a boy at Pemberley, holding
a bucket and fishing pole as he headed down to the river
for sport. Fitzwilliam would indulgently allow her to tag
along behind them and she considered those two boys the
most dearest in her world. She did not feel the boy fish-
ing at Pemberley was even present in the man who had
ignored her on that stormy night in London. How I wish
I had never left the protection of my brother and foolishly de-
parted Ramsgate with him.
Will this baby be a reminder of my folly, of my sins? How
will I ever look upon him with anything but sadness? She con-
tinued to gaze into the mirror, but she found no answers.
Suddenly, she whispered in fierce determination, “No, I
will not allow myself to punish a child for my mistakes.
This child must never, ever know.”
20
After dressing, Georgiana was surprised to find Darcy in
the library instead of his study. He is always in his study at
this time of day. His routine had never wavered since he came
into his inheritance. Yet, she could hear the voices drifting
from within the library, clearly the cheerful sound of her
new sister and the relaxed tone of her brother.
“Elizabeth, you sing beautifully in Italian. I am certain
you can grasp this passage.”
“While I appreciate your pretty compliment, singing is al-
together different from reading and understanding, though
it is rather nice to comprehend more of what I sing.”
The amusement in his tone was unmistakable. “You
could sing in English.”
“Never, sir. Singing Mozart in anything but Italian is
scandalous.”
Georgiana was amazed by Elizabeth’s tone but
Fitzwilliam obviously remained amused. “Elizabeth, you
never cease to amaze me.” She carefully retreated back to
her chamber, smiling slightly at the ongoing banter, un-
willing to disturb the serenity of her brother.

Chewing on her lip had been a bad habit Elizabeth
covered in its formal tablecloth, complete with exquisite
place settings and elegant flower arrangements, she gnawed
it relentlessly. She felt silly for being nervous as her guests
consisted of her family and the Bingleys and Hursts, but
her feelings persisted. She so did not want to disappoint
either of her families in her debut as hostess.
Such was her state when Darcy found her. He admired
her in her fetching blue silk, a slightly rueful smile tugging
at his lips. I may have been hasty in not reducing her pin
money. If I thought her figure appeared to advantage before…
He reprimanded himself for such frivolous thoughts, espe-
cially when he determined she was discomposed.
“Elizabeth, you seem distressed. What is the matter?”
She laughed nervously. “Will you think very ill of me if
I confess my nervousness?”
He pressed her hand lightly, raising it to his lips for a
gentle kiss before answering seriously. “No, I would not. I
would remind you with the composition of tonight’s guests,
no one wants to see you fail.”
“Except for Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst.”
“Perhaps, but I have never known you to be intimidated
by them.” Seeing his knowing smile, she felt her courage
rise.
“You are correct Mr. Darcy,” she replied firmly. “Let’s make
our way to the drawing room. Our guests arrive soon.”

The dinner arrangements for the evening were a suc-
cess. Georgiana had every confidence in her sister, but she
was pleased it had turned out well. She had considered not
attending; her brother and sister would say nothing if she
stayed in her rooms, but she felt it unfair. There would
be much need for such explanations of her absence later,
when her condition was apparent.
As it was, she liked the present company. Elizabeth’s re-
lations were all kind, friendly and amiable, never pressur-
ing her to speak. When she did speak, though usually only
doing so when there was the least chance of being heard,
they listened, but even more amazing, they were sincere.
No wonder Fitzwilliam married her.
The rest of the company was made up of the Hursts and
Bingleys, all acquaintances of several years. Her brother’s
friends had been so polite to her that she startled at the
manner in which Miss Bingley addressed Elizabeth. “Miss
Eliza…I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy,” she began with a
politely insincere smile. “Dinner tonight is excellent.”
Elizabeth imperceptibly raised an eyebrow. “Thank you,
Miss Bingley.”
“Of course,” Miss Bingley continued immediately, “Mr.
Darcy has always retained the most efficient servants. The
household practically manages itself, which must be a great
comfort to you.”
Georgiana could perceive her brother’s displeasure while
Elizabeth looked….amused. “The staff is most helpful,
Miss Bingley,” she replied with a tinge of amusement col-
oring her voice. Elizabeth turned toward Jane, asking her
of news from home.
Miss Bingley allowed Jane to answer before adding, “I
did hear the militia plan to leave by June.” Georgiana tried
to control the shaking of her hand as she carefully lowered
the crystal goblet back onto the table. “That will be a great
loss to your sisters.”
Georgiana restrained a gasp as she focused on her plate,
the color draining from her cheeks. Darcy had told her of
Wickham’s presence and occupation in Hertfordshire be-
fore her brother removed him. She could feel Darcy’s gaze
upon her but did not dare look at him for fear of tears.
Elizabeth surreptitiously grasped her trembling hand be-
neath the tablecloth.
“The departure of the militia can mean little to my sis-
ters,” Elizabeth replied coolly. “with the possible exception
of Kitty and Lydia, who will recover from the loss soon
enough. I assure you, my sisters’ interest in soldiers is con-
fined to their efforts to protect us from Napoleon and the
French.”
The subject thus ended when the situation on the
Continent took reign. Georgiana timidly glanced up at
his brother, expecting he would be concerned and possibly
even displeased with her. He shot a glance of tender con-
cern on her, and then relaxed at her attempt at a reassuring
smile. Georgiana eventually recovered, although she did
not speak again for the remainder of the evening.

Darcy focused a warm gaze of admiration on his wife,
enraptured by her performance on the pianoforte as her
lively tune and lovely voice filled the air. Her deft actions
with Miss Bingley earlier in the evening once again re-
minded him of what an exceptional woman he married. He
had known during Elizabeth’s fateful stay at Netherfield of
the danger she represented, but only now did he under-
stand where the true danger lie. He had comprehended his
enchantment with her at Netherfield, and did everything
in his power to dismiss it, excuse it and ignore it.
But marriage had stripped him of the power of misun-
derstanding. She now lived in his home, presiding as his
hostess and his wife, and he could not ignore her effects
on him. In her constant company, he could not dismiss
how handsome he found her, nor could he overlook how
much he admired her intelligence and her character. He
no longer had the luxury of excusing his feelings for her as
a simple infatuation.
He was in no danger from infatuation, a force he could
simply conquer. No, he knew the truth of it; he simply
loved her. Simply, he thought gravely, as the irony struck
him. There is little simplicity to it. He felt certain there was
little, if any, return of his sentiments. Nor was he free to
act if she had felt more than respect for him.
But one day… One day Georgiana will give birth and
we shall return to Pemberley with the baby. What then? He
shook his head firmly, and simultaneously ran his gloved
fingers across his lips, determined not to dwell upon
thoughts so far into the future.

After a fortnight in London, the Darcys prepared
for their departure to Pemberley. Darcy had determined
the weather allowed for a safe journey and was eager to
go home. If it were not for leaving her aunt and uncle
Gardiner, Elizabeth would have felt even more thrilled
to depart from town. Her aunt and husband had regaled
her with so many tales on the splendors of the North, she
could hardly wait to view them herself. She felt the excite-
ment rise as Darcy carefully handed her into the carriage
and they set out for Derbyshire.
21

Chapter 8
E
lizabeth retired in her chamber at Pemberley and
sat thoughtfully by the fire, carefully considering
her impressions of the last few days. She was ex-
traordinarily pleased by her new home, already feel-
ing a sense of ease and belonging. Her varied duties were
slightly disconcerting, but with her husband’s assistance,
she felt confident she could overcome the challenges.
The grounds were everything delightful, full of abun-
dant natural beauty without false adornment. The hand-
some stone building itself was very much to her liking and
when she stepped inside and toured the house, she was im-
pressed by the beautiful views from each room, decorated
with the elegance and good taste she now associated with
her husband. To be the mistress of Pemberley is something
indeed.
She had been stunned when the housekeeper, Mrs.
Reynolds, spoke so very fondly of Darcy as she conducted
Elizabeth on the tour. Elizabeth had been initially dis-
appointed when the steward immediately commanded
Darcy’s attentions, but now she was immensely grateful as
the housekeeper painted a more complete picture of the
child and young man who had become her husband. She
could still recall the snatches of the praise she’d heard.
“If I was to go through the world, I could not meet with
a better master. But I have always observed that they who
are good-natured when children are good-natured when they
grow up; and he was always the sweetest-tempered, most gen-
erous-hearted, boy in the world.”
“He is the best landlord, and the best master that ever lived.
Not like the wild young men now-a-days, who think of noth-
ing but themselves. There is not one of his tenants or servants
but what will give him a good name. Some people call him
proud; but I am sure I never saw any thing of it. To my fan-
cy, it is only because he does not rattle away like other young
men.”
For the first time, she thought upon the scope of his
power to bestow good or evil, as a brother, a landlord and
a master, and now a husband, and soon, a father. His fine
reputation, related by an intelligent servant of many years,
provided her with a sense of satisfaction as it only con-
firmed and enhanced her own opinion. Most of the men
she’d heard of who had inherited early left their affairs to
their steward, content to pursue all manner of idleness and
vice. Even Mr. Bingley, whom she considered an excellent
man, could not approach the excellence of Mr. Darcy. No,
my husband had not been like other young men, she thought
fondly.
She deliberated on the impact of the portrait gallery
and its effects on her notions of her husband. She had not
previously considered her husband’s connections to some
22
of the most powerful families in England. His great uncle
had been a judge and his mother, the daughter of an earl.
She had identified several maiden names as surnames of
members in the House of Lords. The dissimilarities be-
tween her former sphere and his seemed even clearer.
The reserve and serious demeanor seemed much more
comprehensible in light of his duties and the world in
which he resided. She did not approve of his summary
dismissal of all of Hertfordshire, and especially not of his
open disdain, but she could overlook it as a flaw of charac-
ter, balanced by many excellent traits. His hauteur and ex-
cessive solemnity might be areas in which she could assist
him. She determined her aunt was right; he would benefit
from a little liveliness and she intended to provide it.
She smiled when she recalled Mrs. Reynold’s words. “I
have never had a cross word from him in my life, and I have
known him ever since he was four years old.” Elizabeth had
been taken aback at the amiable light in which the house-
keeper had portrayed Darcy. But with further opportunity
to observe him, comfortably ensconced in a place he loved
above all others, Elizabeth saw his amiability more clearly.
Not only was his increased affability displayed toward her-
self, but toward his dependents as well.
Though honestly, he was always truly amiable. Otherwise,
he would have taken off ense at my saucy speeches to him when
we met, and I know him too clever not to recognize them for
what they were. Instead, he admired me and obviously con-
tinues to do so. His good nature and admiration could only
increase her feelings toward him.

A few days later, Darcy roamed the paths, mentally
chuckling in amusement. My wife must be the only woman
in England out in this weather. Not even the servants and
tenants are about. He had to refrain from grinning when
the footman informed him of Elizabeth’s walk in the snow.
She had taken to Pemberley immediately and although he
had hoped she would become fond of it, he took pride in
her pleasure, watching the delight and wonder in her eyes
when she gazed out the windows of every room he had
seen her inhabit.
He could not know while he thought of her that she
had spied him walking toward her. She could not prevent
a grin from forming on her face as she scooped up a hand-
ful of snow. Ducking behind a tree, she waited until he
was close enough to pelt him on the shoulder with a snow-
ball, giggling at his look of incredulity. Emerging from her
hiding place, she saucily stated, “Retaliate if you dare, Mr.
Darcy,” before scampering off into the woods.
Darcy momentarily froze, shocked by her actions. He
wondered briefly what the servants would think of the
Master and Mistress of Pemberley frolicking in the snow,
but then he beheld Elizabeth turn toward him and throw
another snowball, grinning with rosy cheeks and the most
impish of sparkles in her eyes, and he found he did not
particularly care…so much. “You had better run,” he
growled as he chased her, smiling upon hearing her mis-
chievous laughter.
He felt a small rush of relief when she headed toward
the east woods, well out of sight of the house. Despite her
quickness, she was no match for his longer legs and he soon
caught her, hearing her delighted squeal as he grabbed her
waist loosely from behind. She spun around to face him
and he released his grip, watching her backing away and
laughing at him. “I am a newcomer, unfamiliar with the
ways of the North, Mr. Darcy. I hope the punishment will
fit the crime.”
He laughed quietly, slightly stunned at his own light-
heartedness. “Oh no, you little slip of mischief. You shan’t
get off that easily.” His laughter deepened, mingling with
her own, when she stumbled and fell backwards. Out
of breath, he sat down next to her, remnants of laughter
clinging to the quiet wintry air.
Glancing up at him, her eyes retaining a trace of imp-
ishness, she remarked brightly, “I am certain you have not
been attacked in such a manner in a long time.”
“No,” he replied in a tone full of humor. “No one besides
you would dare.”
She turned slightly serious. “You will tell me if you are
displeased by my behavior. I do not wish to distress or em-
barrass you.”
“Elizabeth,” he replied immediately, “I doubt I will ever
be displeased with your liveliness. It is a trait of yours
which I find irresistable.”
She met his gaze with surprise, her eyes illuminating
with an allure he was wholly unprepared to resist. All
mirth died in the crisp winter air as it suddenly trans-
formed, still and silent. Darcy slowly leaned toward her,
winding an arm around her shoulder and brushing her lips
with his own as the softness of her lips invaded him.
When she sighed dreamily, lifting a sparkling, awe-
struck gaze upon him, his remaining control snapped. He
returned to her mouth with a small moan, threads of ex-
citement wrapping around him when she met his kiss with
equal force. He eventually drug his lips from hers, plant-
ing soft kisses down the side of her face, not even the cold-
ness of her skin penetrating his consciousness. Not until he
heard, “Fitzwilliam,” her melodious voice finally uttering
his Christian name in a low, raspy tone, did a semblance
of reality invade.
When he met her eyes, alight with passion, the moment
of madness ended. Passion? He thought desperately, scram-
bling to his feet inelegantly.
“Mrs. Darcy,” he stammered. “I believe we should return
indoors.” He stretched his hand to assist her, nearly groan-
ing at the sweet confusion surrounding her. “I do not want
you to become chilled.”
He noticed with some regret as awareness flooded into
her and she began to blush. “Yes,” she said awkwardly as he
helped her to her feet. “We should return inside at once.”
He headed for his study immediately, a tangled web of
fear and longing. I have never been so lacking in discipline
in my life! What is the matter with me?
He gazed helplessly into the fire before a mirthless
chuckle escaped. The same malady that has afflicted me al-
most since we met. One glance from her, one smile, and I am
a lost man. He had not noticed until their snowy interlude,
but he now noticed her manner toward him had slightly
altered since their arrival at Pemberley.
Oh God, he thought, dismayed and overjoyed, she is be-
ginning to have aff ection for me. He stabbed ruthlessly at
the fire, frustration oozing from every pore. I should not be
surprised, he mused, thinking upon her kindness toward
Georgiana. She has a most aff ectionate heart.
He calculated the interminable months ahead before he
could fully express his feelings for her. In all his planning,
he had never considered this burden, not seriously enough.
Before he had proposed marriage, he had considered the
sacrifice in accepting Georgiana’s child as his heir. He con-
sidered his distaste of deceit and even Elizabeth’s undesir-
able relations. But now an entirely new sort of sacrifice be-
came apparent.
He had never fully appreciated the burden in the acces-
sibility yet unattainability of the wife he had come to love,
now with burgeoning feelings of her own. It went against
every inclination to abstain from loving her fully, as a man
ought to love a wife he adores. I must keep myself under
better regulation than I displayed today. All of my plans, for
the child and for Georgiana, will be ruined on account of my
selfish indulgence.
Elizabeth may not have felt as much as her husband, but
she was dazed and confused. What happened to me today?
What happened to Fitzwilliam? It was impossible to think
of him other than Fitzwilliam now. Being at Pemberley,
seeing him truly in his element, had enhanced a trickle
of affection for a man she began to understand, a man of
whom she thought very highly.
Kissing the man she admired, and her own husband at
that, had seemed the most wonderful, natural sensation in
the world, but now, considering what was at stake, she felt
ashamed. I must not let it happen again. I will not let my
weakness ruin the plans for Georgiana or the baby. Despite
her innocence, she somehow thought the vow might be
more easily made than kept.

Their resolutions were made easier upon the unexpect-
ed arrival of Colonel Fitzwilliam the next morning. After
greeting the ladies politely but briefly, he grimly entered
23
Darcy’s study. He had received the letter from Darcy an- Richard was astonished. “Another wedding? Well, I say,
nouncing his most unfortunate marriage. Richard had read Hertfordshire seems a popular place to find a bride. Darcy,
the letter twice to credit its contents, hardly believing the You had better begin at the beginning, when you joined
news. Bingley, and tell me everything.”
If he had not been sorely needed with his regiment, and The interview had been difficult, but Darcy was relieved
he thought it would have changed the outcome, he would he had told his cousin. With Richard’s agreement to escort
have ridden to Hertfordshire and demanded to know what Georgiana, they both felt somewhat mollified. Darcy still
madness had overtaken his usually astute cousin. But now loathed leaving her, but he knew she would be well cared
that he had leave, he was going to unravel the mystery. for in his absence. Within a few days, Richard left, with
Darcy barely explained the situation before Richard ex- promises to return at the end of January for the journey.
ploded.
“Good God, what were you thinking? You should have
sent for me! I am Georgiana’s guardian too.” 
“You were not available and I had to act.” Darcy’s eyes
flickered with impatience at the censure in Richard’s tone.
“Damn it, Darcy. I should have been informed of the Upon furthering their acquaintance, Elizabeth de-
situation immediately. I would have left the regiment and cided Colonel Fitzwilliam received all of the manners the
come to London. I should have married Georgiana.” He rest of his family lacked and could only rejoice at the easy
suddenly collapsed into a nearby chair. “Poor Georgiana.” congeniality of one of her husband’s relations. Colonel
Darcy answered firmly, “I know you would have quit Fitzwilliam was not exactly a handsome man, but in man-
your regiment, which is precisely why I did not send for ner he was every inch the gentleman. She was mystified
you. Your presence would not have changed my mind and at the difference between him and his father and brother.
it would have raised questions, especially from my uncle, The Fitzwilliams had not been rude or uncivil when she
which I do not wish to answer. Nor would I have allowed met them briefly in London; on the contrary, they had
you to marry Georgiana.” been unfailingly, coldly polite, and Elizabeth found their
Darcy’s tone grew sorrowful and reflective. “She is too company barely tolerable. When she thought of spending
fragile to become a wife to anyone. I cannot imagine her in time with them at Pemberley, or at Lord Fitzwilliam’s es-
an encampment of soldiers; and, if you had perhaps settled tate in Lancashire, she found herself rolling her eyes.
her elsewhere, she cannot manage a household when she At least his uncle, chilly civility aside, was not casting him
barely speaks above a whisper. You deserve better, and so off as did his aunt. No, she thought with a martyred sigh,
does she.” as long as they are civil to me, no matter how uninviting, I
“So you sacrificed yourself? A marriage with a penniless must, for his sake, remain civil myself.
country miss is not exactly why I encouraged you to join
Bingley in Hertfordshire. You had other options.”
At his cousin’s narrowed eyes and heightened color,
Richard exclaimed, “I certainly do not mean anything like
that. I may not be as devout as you, but I would never
suggest such a course, if only to protect her life. I simply
meant we could have taken on the child as a ward.”
Darcy replied in annoyance, “I will not censure the in-
nocent. I did what had to be done and I would gladly do
it again. The baby will be a Darcy, without the stain of il-
legitimacy, and will have everything he deserves.”
“Including Pemberley?” Richard looked into his cousin’s
eyes, filled with unwavering resolve, and sighed. “Very well,
Darcy. You have always been too noble for your own good
and It is too late to change your mind. Tell me how you
intend to accomplish it so I may be of assistance. I insist
on being party to it.”
Darcy looked at him, a flash of relief in his eyes. “There
is a task you can perform for me, for which I would be
most grateful. If you can arrange it with your regiment, I
would like you to travel with Georgiana to Scotland and
stay with her until Elizabeth and I can join her. Bingley is
marrying Elizabeth’s eldest sister in March.”
24

Chapter 9
I
t only took a few days for Colonel Fitzwilliam to ad-
mire the new Mrs. Darcy. Even in his shock and grief
for Georgiana, he could not keep from smiling slightly
as he discussed travel, music and books with her with
appropriate comments from Darcy and even a few quiet
remarks from Georgiana. Much like his cousin, he was
struck by the artless charm and intelligence of Darcy’s
pretty young wife.
I should have known when the only acerbic comment
Father could make was how unsuitable her fortunes and con-
nections. He had to admit he had some reservations on that
account himself, but upon furthering his acquaintance
with Elizabeth, he felt more confidence in Darcy’s choice.
Since Darcy was determined to marry, at least he married a
woman whose society will not be a further burden. He had
listened with amazement and perceived Georgiana’s alarm
as Elizabeth teased Darcy. More astonishing was Darcy’s
amused tolerance of it, even returning a few remarks of his
own.
His cousin’s behavior was clarified for him when he
caught an admiring glance Darcy directed at her in a
brief unguarded moment. Few would have noticed it, but
for Richard, who had never seen Darcy truly admire any
woman outside of their own family, it had been startling
to witness. He was almost amused at the quiet, restrained
romance occurring at Pemberley, especially when he no-
ticed the lady herself was not immune to his cousin.
Once this child is delivered and they have returned to
Pemberley, it will be a sight to behold. He suppressed a smile
at the sport he would have at Darcy’s expense. But at the
moment, he thought more soberly, it is hardly a jesting mat-
ter.
So he left Pemberley with a heavier and a lighter heart
than before.
 pointed your brother and your cousin. You would not have
The pianoforte sounded throughout the sitting room
as the final note still clung to the air. Georgiana looked at
Elizabeth with a tiny smile. “That was much better.”
“I am still no proficient, but I did hear some improve-
ment.”
“Your playing is really very lovely and now you have the
piece perfected.”
At first, Elizabeth thought her tone dismissive, but then
considered perhaps Georgiana was uneasy as her gaze
nervously skittered away. Surely not on account of me?
“Georgiana, I hope if I am overwhelming you or imposing
on your time, you will tell me. I fear sometimes my exu-
berance leads me astray.”
Georgiana suddenly crumpled, her anguished words
tumbling forth. “Why are you being so kind? Is it because
of my brother? I know you admire him, how can you not?
But you should not think you must be kind to me for his
sake, at least when we are alone. I am sure you think me
very wicked.”
Elizabeth replied softly as she grasped the younger girl’s
shaking hands. “I do admire your brother very much. As
you said, how could I not, but I do not think you are
wicked. You met a charming, devious man, whom you had
known since childhood, and you made a mistake. After all
my mistakes, how could I judge yours?”
Seeing her sister’s puzzled look, she explained guiltily, “I
did not grow up with Mr. Wickham, and I am older than
you and I believed him.” Neither Elizabeth nor Georgiana
was aware of Darcy’s presence in the doorway. He had
sought his sister’s company, hoping to buoy her spirits,
when his wife’s words chilled him.
Georgiana looked up in shock. “How?”
“I am certain your brother told you about Mr. Wickham
joining the militia in Meryton a few days after your broth-
er left to meet you in London. I believed him when he ac-
cused your brother of denying him a living out of malice.”
Elizabeth noticed Georgiana tremble as she asked, “Did
he mention me?”
Elizabeth hesitated before answering, “Yes, he did. He
did not mention…Ramsgate…but he did make some re-
marks about your being not amiable and being proud
when nothing could be further from the truth. So how can
I blame you for trusting in a man whom I trusted myself?”
She suddenly felt Georgiana embrace her and she held
the girl just as tightly. “Thank you, Elizabeth.” Georgiana
let go and turned her head. “But you never would have
eloped, you never would have been forced…”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened in comprehension. “Oh
Georgiana,” she whispered and drew Georgiana into her
arms again as the younger girl cried softly.
Georgiana’s voice turned fierce as she released herself
from Elizabeth’s embrace. “You never would have disap-
ruined your life and forced your brother into deception.
What…happened…to me is all my fault.”
“No, Georgiana, it is not,” Elizabeth replied firmly, pull-
ing back to look into her eyes. “You made a mistake, yes,
but what happened…being….violated…is not your fault!
There is no excuse for any one, any man, to act so.” She
drew her sister back into her arms, surprised to see Darcy
standing at the door.
Darcy entered the room, carefully focusing his gaze on
Georgiana. “Elizabeth is correct, my dear. I only wish I
had told you and Father what Wickham truly was.”
“Why did you not?” Georgiana asked softly, no trace of
accusation or malice in her tone.
25
 He turned sad and grave. “Georgiana, you know Father
and I… He was an excellent man, but Wickham’s manners
were more suited to his own. I could not tell him his favor-
ite was the most unprincipled, licentious man. He only be-
came truly vicious after Father fell ill and he felt he could
act without restraint. After settling with him over Father’s
will, I never imagined we would see Wickham again, so I
kept silent. I am grieved and sorry for it.”
“It is not your fault, brother,” Georgiana whispered. “I
can not blame you for not telling me. You could not
know.”
After they both left, Georgiana sat for over an hour,
thinking upon what Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth told her.
They do not think it is my fault. She stared at her needle-
work as it dawned on her. It is not my fault. I did not know
he could act so wickedly. I may forever regret my lack of sense,
but I did not know any of this would happen. For the first
time since that horrible night, she felt a small burden lift
from her heart.
 gender my approval. Perhaps if you had behaved as you
Darcy was relieved after speaking with Georgiana,
hoping she might improve. But he was distressed, angry
and hurt at what Elizabeth had revealed. Elizabeth had be-
lieved that reprobate over me. How could she? I had never
given her cause to think so poorly of me.
Fear gripped him, recalling how upset she had been
when he mentioned Wickham’s name the day he pro-
posed. He had been too upset about Georgiana to notice
then, but now he could recall the tremble in her voice and
her pale cheeks. Surely she did not have an…attachment to
him.
He was uncertain which thought gave him the most
pain. The thought that Wickham had touched her heart,
while she had married him without affection or her ad-
mission she had thought him capable of malice while be-
lieving Wickham everything honorable. First Father, then
Georgiana, now her. Does that man have to touch the hearts
of everyone I love? What does it matter now? She does admire
and respect me, does she not? If the other day was an indica-
tion, I have her aff ection now. But why, why would she be-
lieve him? I cannot make any sense of it.
The jumbled refrain repeated itself until Darcy de-
cided he must ask, even though he feared the answers.
Discovering her whereabouts in her study, he marched
into the room, securing the door behind him. He paced
in front of her desk for a moment, before stating coldly. “I
would be interested to know how you believed me capable
of such injustice and malice.”
Elizabeth paled then flushed. She kept silent as she stared
at her hands resting in her lap, too mortified to speak. He
asked sharply, “Were you attached to Wickham?”
26
“No!” she cried passionately, looking up in surprise. “I
did have a preference for him, which shames me still, but
I was not attached. There was nothing between us except
the folly of listening to charm and lies.”
“I do not comprehend you, madam. How could you have
believed that man? How could you have ever thought me
capable of such behavior?”
Elizabeth looked away briefly before turning her gaze
back on him. “I told you I overheard your remark at the
assembly. You wounded my vanity, and he did not.”
He looked at her in angry disbelief. Silence reigned in
the room for several minutes until he said composedly, in
short tones, “You heard one ill-judged remark and based
your dislike on it? I thought you much more clever and
certainly more charitable.”
He saw the anger visible on Elizabeth’s face as she cried,
“That was not my only basis, sir! It was very obvious how
distasteful you found the society in Hertfordshire and how
superior you perceived yourself to it. Your looks of disdain,
your conceit, and your injudicious remarks to others and
certainly, about me, were obvious and not inclined to en-
ought, in the manner of a gentleman, my opinion would
not have been so poor.”
He answered, contempt apparent in his voice, “And that
is your opinion of me! Might I ask why you married such
a man?”
She cared little for his tone, as she lifted her chin and
said, “I knew you were telling the truth about Georgiana
and Wickham and I determined our marriage would be a
good match for me. And while I was resolved about Mr.
Collins, my life at home would be miserable with my par-
ents attitude toward my refusal.”
His face twisted in pain at the thought of his wife mar-
rying him solely for his fortune, not wanting to believe
her coldly mercenary with the capacity to marry a man of
whom she thought so poorly. “So you have allied yourself
with a man whom you disliked for my wealth. I knew my
position was a consideration but I never thought you a for-
tune hunter.”
Even through her anger, Elizabeth felt a pang of regret
as the pain flickered across Darcy’s face. She rose from her
seat and stood beside Darcy, adding more temperately, “I
will not let you think me capable of such base motives.
Despite how unappealing your manner, I found your will-
ingness to marry for the benefit of an unborn child highly
admirable and I respected you for it. No material wealth,
nor family troubles, would have induced me to accept you
if I did not think I could respect or admire my husband.”
He carefully searched her face for several minutes, be-
fore bowing and leaving her study.

 In the past two days, Georgiana had thought often upon
her situation, past, present and future. One of her biggest
shocks was the realization that she had left the entire mat-
ter to her brother, which was not too surprising, except she
was not even aware of what he had planned. I need to know,
she resolved, making her way to his study.
“Brother, I need to speak with you,” she began quietly.
“What is it?” he replied, gesturing her to sit in one of
the leather chairs in front of his desk while he took the
adjacent one.
“My…condition will be apparent before long.” She felt
her cheeks burn but pressed ahead. “How are we going to
conceal it?”
Darcy looked at her carefully for a moment, before
explaining, “I have made arrangements for a cottage in
Scotland through my attorney, using a fictitious name.
Richard will take you there in a fortnight with a compan-
ion, a midwife. She is a cousin of Mrs. Reynolds and was
formerly in service here. I have interviewed her personally
and am confident she shall remain discreet. Elizabeth and
I will join you in March, after Bingley and Jane’s wedding.
We will stay in Scotland together until we can credibly
pass off the child as mine. I hate to send you without ac-
companying you, but I must attend…”
Georgiana hated the look of guilt on his face. “You are
right, brother,” she replied softly. “You must go. I have
been so hurt, so sad, and I have neglected to thank you
for searching for me in London and for everything you
and Elizabeth have done for me. You have been the best
of brothers.”
“No, I have not. I do not deserve your praise,” he replied
sadly, averting his gaze.
“But you do,” Georgiana cried. “You have cared for me,
and even married for me. I know there were other options
at much less cost to yourself.”
Seeing his brother become more despondent, Georgiana
hesitantly broached the subject of Elizabeth. The tension
between her brother and Elizabeth had not escaped her
notice and she felt guilty as she suspected herself as the
cause. “Brother, are you angry with Elizabeth for speaking
to me yesterday? She was only attempting to reassure me,
and I was relieved to hear she does not think ill of me.”
“No, Georgiana,” he said shortly. “I think we needed
to discuss it and I am grateful you feel more comfortable
with Elizabeth. I want you to become true sisters.”
“Then why are you so angry with her?” she whispered.
“You have barely spoken to her since you discovered us in
the sitting room.”
Georgiana thought carefully then gasped. “Are you an-
gry with her because of her belief in him?”
Darcy rose abruptly and walked to the window, before
stating sternly, “I do not want to discuss it, Georgiana.”
Hearing her sniff suspiciously, he turned to her and said
firmly, but kindly, “Elizabeth and I must solve our own
problems.”
Georgiana looked at him mournfully. “I know it is not
my place to interfere, but I cannot let you remain angry
with her and not tell you what I have done. Have you ever
wondered why I left with him from Ramsgate?”
Darcy turned back to the window, pressing his forehead
against the cold glass. “Please, Georgiana…” he protested
sadly.
“I must tell you, brother,” Georgiana said in quiet deter-
mination. She blushed at his glance of surprised displea-
sure, but continued, “He convinced me we had to elope.
He said your pride would never allow a Darcy to marry the
son of a steward. He said you were jealous of him, because
of Papa’s preference, and your pride and jealousy would
stand in the way of our happiness. I believed such lies! I let
him convince me you were capable of petty jealousy and
preventing my happiness.”
“I would not have rejoiced in such an unequal match
for you, even without Wickham’s reprehensible character,”
Darcy remarked quietly.
“Perhaps not,” she conceded. “But I know what a gener-
ous man you are, brother, and how much you love me. If
he had been an honorable man, truly and disinterestedly
in love with me and settled respectably, I could have con-
vinced you to let us marry eventually. Your pride in our
name would never stand in the way of my ultimate hap-
piness. But I let him convince me otherwise,” she ended
sadly.
“You were no match for such a practiced scoundrel,
Georgiana, and I do not blame you for believing him.
Father was always convinced of his goodness.”
“How can you forgive me and Papa but not Elizabeth?”
Georgiana ventured timidly. “She did not know him or
you as well as I.”
“I already forgave her for believing him,” Darcy said
quietly, his voice hardly above a whisper. “But it is not as
simple as that.”
“Brother…” Georgiana began.
“No, Georgiana, I must handle this in my own way,”
Darcy said firmly. He then turned around and smiled at
her, “I do not want it to become a habit, your disagreeing
with me, but a return of your spirits is a welcome change.
I am almost pleased to disagree with you. Please, do not
concern yourself with me, my dear. Elizabeth and I will
manage.”
He wished he possessed the confidence he portrayed to
Georgiana. He, of all people, knew the misery of an un-
happy marriage, having seen parents so ill-suited. He had
loved them both; they were each intelligent people with
admirable qualities, but their flaws prevented them from
finding a way to a true understanding. As the years went
by, they did not seem to want to understand, content to
live their lives independently, for the most part. He desper-
ately hoped he had not resigned himself and the woman he
loved to such a fate.
27

Chapter 10
T
he letters were finished and Darcy threw his quill
upon the desk. The two days passing had been mis-
erable. Elizabeth’s accusations had angered him,
but anger had abated, to be replaced by remorse.
He was forced to admit she had been correct in much
of her assessment. The society in Hertfordshire was mostly
as he had thought it would be: savage, unrefined and im-
polite, and he had categorically dismissed all of them as
beneath his notice. He had assumed he would find no one
worth knowing beyond his own party, until a sweet, lively
lady had caught his eye.
He ran his fingers through his hair distractedly. If
she had thought ill of me, I only have myself to blame. The
thought of her belief in Wickham still stung, but he could
understand it. She is not even one and twenty and has not
been much in the world. Is it any wonder her judgment of
such a devious man was in error?
He sighed forlornly. I certainly have a contrary manner
of increasing her good opinion of me. I spoke in anger and ac-
cused her of being a fortune hunter. I knew she was beginning
to have aff ection for me and she had shown her respect for me,
but I let my resentment over the past take hold. I treated a
woman worthy of being pleased very poorly and I am sure she
must despise me for it. But I cannot allow it to stand.
The previous evening had been the worst, bringing back
unpleasant reminders of his parents—the uncomfortable
silences and the pitiful attempts to appear happy. But as
he thought it over, he realized there were important differ-
ences. He did not wish to be estranged from his wife; and,
as he discreetly observed her, he felt almost relieved to find
how distressed she appeared.
Picking up his quill, he decided to write another letter.
 trembled. Hesitating for an instant until her obvious dis-
The days passing had been scarcely less painful for
Elizabeth. Darcy had not been unkind when she saw
him at meals or in the drawing room after dinner, but he
seemed unapproachable. She did not dare broach the sub-
ject of their argument, though she realized some of her ret-
icence was due to her own guilt. Each hour passing since
their argument, she became more despondent, recalling
her own misbehavior. She had waited in the library for an
extra half hour each morning, yet he never came. Sitting
in their customary seat on the settee, she stared down at a
neglected book as a thin mist of tears blurred the page.
How many times has Jane gently chastised me for my tem-
per? For not making allowances for others? I let Fitzwilliam’s
28
unjust words anger me, even though I already knew how mis-
taken and willfully prejudiced I had behaved early in our ac-
quaintance. Had I not decided, only a few days ago, how his
good character outweighed his flaws? That I might assist him
with his manner? Only to reveal his flaws in the most painful
manner! How could I have acted so?
She recalled his words during her stay at Netherfield, a
feeling of despair washing over her. “My temper I dare not
vouch for.—It is I believe too little yielding—certainly too
little for the convenience of the world. I cannot forget the fol-
lies and vices of others so soon as I ought, nor their off enses
against myself. My feelings are not puff ed about with every
attempt to move them. My temper would perhaps be called
resentful.—My good opinion once lost is lost for ever.”
Without his good opinion, how shall I manage here? One
of the biggest surprises of the past three days was not that
she missed his advice and assistance, but how much she
had missed him: his quiet good humor, his smile and his
companionship.
She snapped the book shut and placed it on the floor.
Now there will be no more cozy meetings in the library and
tranquil evenings in the drawing room. What have I done?
She covered her face with her hands and gave in to the
impulse to cry.
Moments later, she flinched in surprise as she felt a warm
hand on her arm and heard a low, unsteady voice. “Please
do not cry, Elizabeth.” Elizabeth dropped her hands to
find Darcy kneeling beside her, looking every bit as miser-
able as she felt. He took his handkerchief and wiped the
errant tears from her cheeks.
“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth blushed at being caught weeping
and looked uncomfortably away.
She felt his hand gently brush her chin, turning her face
back toward him. “I hope I am not the cause of your tears.
If so, I would ask you not to cry on my account. I behaved
abominably, and I am very sorry for it.”
She looked at him through watery eyes. “No, I am the
cause of my own tears. I know you are very angry and
rightly so.” She trailed off, pursing her lips as her lower lip
tress overcame all rational thought, Darcy moved his hand
to her cheek, softly stroking it.
“No, my dear, you mustn’t think that. I have been upset,
but upon reflection, Mr. Wickham’s success at imposing
upon you should not, perhaps, be wondered at. Ignorant as
you previously were, detection could not be in your power,
and suspicion certainly not in your inclination.”
He glanced down at the rug, a grave look of pain crossing
his face as he dropped his hand from her cheek. “It was all in
the past and I ought not have made such accusations about
your character and motivations. Mostly I was angry about
your accusations about my character, but your words about
my pride, my conceit and my manner were well-deserved.”
She felt the tears roll down her cheeks at the reminder of
how much she had injured him. “Please, do not remind me
of what I said. I have been heartily ashamed of my words.
With your distress over Georgiana, I can hardly blame you
for your behavior in Hertfordshire.”
Seeing he remained pained, she gripped his wrist resting
beside her and added, “I know you are a fine man, truly I
do! I was too angry to tell you how much my view of you
has changed. I did not tell you how amiable and intelligent
I think you are and how much I enjoy conversing with you.
I have found many more reasons to respect and admire
you since we have married.”
She forced herself to take a deep breath, determined
not to sob, before continuing in a shaky voice. “To now
think so highly of you, and know how justly you despise
me for my poor judgment and immoderate temper is very
unpleasant.”
He glanced up at her, surprise evident in his voice. “I
do not dare despise you. What of my temper and my un-
just accusations? You told me how your opinion of me has
changed since we have married, and I should tell you mine
has as well.”
Noticing the alarm on her face, he leaned forward to
touch her left cheek, kissing her right cheek reverently. His
lips curved at the look of astonishment in her eyes. “I find
you amazing, more so each day.”
Smiling tremulously, she offered, “Let us not quarrel
over who has behaved worse or who became the more an-
gered. As long as you are not angry, I am satisfied.”
He looked at her seriously. “I am not angry, but
Elizabeth, I do not want you to fear my anger. I want us
to understand each other, to be true friends and partners.”
He smiled gently as he continued to touch her cheek, un-
able to tear his hand away. “I have appreciated your forth-
rightness, so you must tell me if you are displeased.”
“You have my friendship, sir.” Her smile then turned into
a small laugh. “You should know enough of my frankness
to know me incapable of acting other than forthrightly,
even if you would wish it.”
He shook his head in amusement as he stood and kissed
her hand softly. Hesitating for a moment, he removed a
letter from inside his coat and handed it to her. “I was
planning on giving this to you this evening, but I shall
hand it to you now. I shall see you this evening, madam.”
Puzzled, Elizabeth opened the letter and began to read:
“Dear Elizabeth,
I hope you will not take off ense at my salutation. I displayed
the sentiment poorly two days ago, but you are dear to me,
very much so. I should have corrected the situation sooner,
but my anger stood in the way. But I have since decided I
must write to you, and beg your forgiveness.
I had no right to question your motives for marrying me
and I hope you will forgive my transgression. You were
forthright about acknowledging your hesitation when I
proposed marriage and I respected you for your honesty. I
cannot, and will not, use Mr. Wickham as an excuse for my
abominable behavior, but I feel you, of all people, deserve a
full explanation. You have heard parts of the history from
myself, from Georgiana and from Mr. Wickham himself, but
I will now provide you with a complete account, to the best of
my ability.
Mr. Wickham was my father’s godson and the son of our
steward, who was a highly respectable man. You have seen
for yourself what a charming manner he possesses and my
father, not being a suspicions sort of man, never saw his
godson for what he was. As a person of similar age, Mr.
Wickham could not conceal his vicious propensities from
me and I discerned early on his lack of principle and
decency. When my excellent father died, he left the sum of
one thousand pounds and a request to bestow the living in
Kympton upon Mr. Wickham’s taking orders.
When he came to me, renouncing all intentions to become a
clergyman, and professed an interest in studying law, I felt
relieved. I knew he ought not be a clergyman and I hoped,
rather than believed, him to be sincere in his intentions. I
gave him a sum of three thousand pounds, in lieu of the
living, and believed all relations between us to be dissolved.
Unfortunately, as we well know now, I was gravely mistaken,
when he once again convinced a member of my family to
believe in his goodness, and we are all forced to live with the
consequences of his ability to deceive.
I know none of this history will justify ever speaking in such
a manner to you, but I hope you can comprehend why the
thought of your believing in him, trusting him, and perhaps
having a former attachment to him, caused me to act rashly
and most unwisely. I can only tell you how deeply sorry I am
for it. Your increasing competence as Mistress, your strength
of character as you have risen above every challenge and your
intelligence would be enough to retain my admiration. But
your concern and benevolence to my sister, now so desperately
in need of a woman’s companionship, is a kindness which
I can never repay to you, and I hope my hasty actions will
not hinder a better relationship between you. As I told
Georgiana, my fondest wish is for you to become true sisters.
The situation with Georgiana has caused me to reflect often
upon my parents and their wishes for her, and likewise, my
thoughts have turned toward their marriage and what I wish
for ours. My father possessed an amiable, gregarious sort of
personality, while my mother was rather reserved and strict.
Theirs was a match of opposing personalities, you might say.
They were not unhappy, but neither were they very happy
together.
In darker moments, I have worried we might be destined for
their fate, as there are striking similarities in our opposing
29
temperaments, but upon reflection, I realize I have not done
either of us, and you especially, enough justice. We alone
have control over the direction of our marriage. We will
choose whether to let resentment build or to show mercy and
forgiveness to one another.
I have no doubts in you, but I well know my own limitations.
My parents, and my father especially, provided me with
excellent principles, but left me to follow them in pride
and conceit. You were right to point out those weaknesses.
My distress over Georgiana was no excuse to arrive in
Hertfordshire and treat others so disdainfully. However, I am
determined to overcome my deficiencies because you deserve
no less, dearest Elizabeth.
I have so many hopes for us, especially after Georgiana gives
birth and we return to Pemberley. None of those dreams will
be possible if we fail at truly understanding each other and
being forthright without allowing years of resentments, petty
disagreements or even others’ opinion on what is proper for
us to interfere. I feel such happiness is ours if we wish it and
work for it, and I am eager to make the eff ort. I hope this
letter is a small step in our path.
Eternally yours,
Fitzwilliam”
have gone out of your way to ensure my comfort and ease in
my new role and I would not have been able to ‘ have risen
above every challenge’, as you so kindly phrased it, without
your assistance.
I have noticed your tendency to dwell on your perceived
failures. Please, do not take my unkind words to heart, not
to the extent of chastising yourself harshly for having flaws as
do we all. I have become well aware of my own faults in the
past months. You seem to think I have none, but trust me, I
do, my former misjudgments and my temper among them. I
hope, with your patience, to overcome some of my flaws as I
hope to display like forbearance.
As you so eloquently stated, I also have witnessed daily proof
of the unhappiness associated with an unsuitable marriage.
I have no desire for such a marriage for either of us nor do
I wish to provide such a cautionary example of woe for the
child we will soon raise. Neither of us have had the best of
daily examples it seems, but we are fortunately both obstinate
and I, for one, hope our mutual obstinacy will overcome our
lack of proper example. I know, speaking for myself, I have
observed the most acrimony results when spouses forget they
once thought their partner possessed admirable qualities. I
am determined never to forget it, especially when I feel my
anger bursting forth.

 the path of our marriage. Despite our diff erences of temper,
After the evening ended, Elizabeth sat down to com-
pose her own letter. She had seen the concern on Darcy’s
face as she had been uncharacteristically quiet all evening,
but his letter had touched her heart and she knew she must
respond to it. She thought upon it for most of the evening,
until she finally knew what she wanted to say.
I have full trust in your words that we, indeed, will choose
we are united in our resolve to have every happiness and we
are willing to work together to obtain them. You have faith
in me, and I have every confidence in you.
Always yours,
Elizabeth”

“Dear Fitzwilliam,

I cannot tell you how much your letter meant to me. I have
read it at least half a dozen times and each time, I am struck
anew at what a wise, intelligent man you are. As you seem
to be aware, it is at times easier to write down one’s deepest
thoughts as opposed to finding the appropriate words at the
exact time to say them aloud, and there is much I wish to tell
you.

I, too, have my own apologies to off er. I let my temper guide

me when I spoke to you, and I pained you unnecessarily.
We all have faults and for me to point out yours in such
an immoderate manner was harsh and cruel. I hope you
will forgive me for it, and I promise I will try to restrain
my temper. I dislike causing pain to anyone, but to cause
you pain is intolerable and I have no wish to repeat it. You
30

Chapter 11
T
he fire in the library crackled merrily as the light,
cheerful voice sounded from within.
“Sospiro e gemo senza voler,” Elizabeth read, sit-
ting on the settee. “That means, I sigh and…”
“Groan,” Darcy translated from his place beside her,
hoping, rather than knowing, his voice remained neutral.
He wondered if she had any idea of the effect she had on
him, but looking down on her, obviously concentrating on
translating, he knew her allure was entirely unintentional.
Her lack of consciousness made her appeal even more
potent. He suppressed a sigh himself, restraining himself
from burying his lips in the golden locks on the top of her
head. Then he felt the urge to groan, watching her bite her
lower lip, before a pleased smile lit her lips.
“…I sigh and groan without wanting to,” Elizabeth
continued after a moment, startling him from his wan-
dering thoughts. “Palpito e tremo senza saper… I quiver
and tremble without knowing it. Non trovo pace notte nè
di… I find no peace night or day. Ma pur mi piace languir
così… And yet I like suffering this way.”
“Excellent, Elizabeth. You seemed to comprehend the
aria very well.”
“Yes,” she said quietly, feeling her cheeks burn under his
gaze. “Yes, I am beginning to.” Elizabeth had been thrilled
at their reconciliation but his request for honesty was more
difficult than she could have ever imagined. Darcy had
asked for an honesty from her which she had never dis-
played with anyone, not even with Jane, and being honest
with him also meant honesty with herself. It was moments
like these, caught in the heat of his gaze, when she doubt-
ed the wisdom of honesty.
She did not know exactly what she felt for him, if it was
truly love, or a warm affection for a kind, intelligent man
who appreciated her, but she found it increasingly difficult
to ignore her feelings. She felt her skin tingle and her heart
race as he whispered her name hoarsely. They looked at
each other for a long moment until she could remain still
no longer, and she saw Darcy’s astonishment right before
she leaned up, brushing her lips gently against his own.
Pulling back slightly, she felt the blissful, giddy happi-
ness envelop her at the look of profound pleasure spreading
across his handsome face. His green eyes, which she often
thought so chillingly cold, were now so expressively warm
as to render her slightly breathless. The color had risen to
his high cheekbones and, in spite of his cravat, she saw
him swallow reflexively. She often found him handsome,
but his reaction to her made him so devastatingly attrac-
tive as to cause her head to spin slightly.
He joyfully returned the kiss, deepening it as he drew
her closer into his arms. Her heart began pounding fero-
ciously and her hands crept upward and grasped his shoul-
ders. She finally released his lips with a glance of regret at
the necessity as she buried her face within his shoulder.
“Elizabeth,” he said again, wistfully.
“I know,” was her muffled reply.

Georgiana determined she would likely never wish to
marry, but she determined to become the best sister, and
the best Miss Darcy, she could be, for her brother’s sake
and her own. Elizabeth was delighted with her assistance
in organizing relief baskets for some of the tenants suf-
fering from the harsh Derbyshire winter. She was not as
brave as Elizabeth, nor did she think she ever would be,
watching her sister bundle up to visit tenants in the freez-
ing temperatures, but performing a useful task brought a
measure of cheer back to her face. It was simple enough for
her sensibilities; the cook, Mrs. Brown, had been in ser-
vice at Pemberley almost as many years as Mrs. Reynolds.
Georgiana had long felt a fondness for the kindly cook, re-
calling the afternoons as a child sneaking into the kitchen
as Mrs. Brown slyly handed her a treat.
But the winter’s day was not beginning favorably for
Georgiana. She tried to ignore the insistent pounding in
her temples, annoyed by the persistent headache of the
past two days, when she made her way to the kitchen to
instruct the cook. She thought she was performing her
task admirably, until she felt herself unsteady on her feet.
Elizabeth turned her gaze on Georgiana, concern evident
on her face. “Georgiana, are you well? You look flushed.”
She attempted a smile for her sister, not wanting to cause
Elizabeth or her brother any further worry. “I have a slight
headache. Perhaps I should lie down.” She rose quickly,
only to feel her head swim.
“Georgiana!” Elizabeth exclaimed. She pressed her hand
to Georgiana’s forehead before knitting her brows in con-
sternation. “You have a fever.” Georgiana heard her call for
Mrs. Reynolds but she could not decipher the words for
the insistent drumming in her head. She sat at the kitchen
table, resting her head in her hands until she heard her
brother’s grave tone penetrate the pain.
“Georgiana,” he said, his distress apparent even through
the painful haze of her headache. “I will assist you to your
chambers.” She nodded her head weakly as she felt him
slip his arm around her waist. They reached the staircase
when she felt the earth spin violently. Darcy lifted her in
his arms although she was in too much pain to notice or
care.

31
Elizabeth had never been more grateful for the loyal,
efficient Mrs. Reynolds. Her composure and wits were eas-
ier to maintain with the housekeeper’s reassuring presence
behind her. Not that her presence had made the situation
sanguine.
By the time they had undressed Georgiana and put her
into bed, she was moaning and trembling, before closing
her eyes and falling into a restless sleep. They had tried sev-
eral remedies over the past hours and bathed Georgiana’s
face in cool water repeatedly, yet her fever persisted. Her
pale, almost translucent skin, was marked by a scarlet
twinge upon her cheeks as the fever raged.
Elizabeth had never seen an illness come upon someone so
rapidly and she felt a surge of panic well up within her. Seeing
Mrs. Reynolds shake her head sadly with a knitted brow, she
did not think the experienced woman had seen such a rapid
sickness either. Georgiana laid upon her bed, tossing and
turning, murmuring words that made little sense.
“Papa!” she cried in a hoarse whisper as Darcy entered
her room. Hearing her, he grew even more pale and grey.
The sight of him sitting on Georgiana’s bed, his slightly
shaking hand holding hers as he stared with desperate eyes,
struck Elizabeth to the heart.
“Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds,” Elizabeth said as she
turned to the housekeeper. “We will ring if we need any-
thing else.”
“It is I, Georgiana. It is Fitzwilliam,” Darcy said quietly,
bathing her forehead in cool water.
“Papa,” the sick girl murmured. Darcy dropped his head
down and shook it sadly.
Elizabeth laid a hand on Darcy’s shoulder and said soft-
ly, “I think we should send for the physician.”
He nodded, without turning toward her, before he said
quietly, “I sent a rider to London two hours ago.”
Elizabeth was immensely grateful for those two ad-
ditional hours as she did not know what she or Mrs.
Reynolds would have done if the physician had arrived
later. The next morning not only brought no improvement,
but additional fear when Georgiana began crying out in
pain and bleeding. Elizabeth was frightened and she saw
the fear reflected in the housekeeper’s eyes.
But at last Dr. Richards arrived and examined his pa-
tient. “She has contracted an infectious fever. Her pains
are coming, not uncommon for expectant women who
become violently ill. Mr. Darcy, if you want to leave now,
Mrs. Darcy and I can manage.”
“No,” Darcy responded firmly. “I cannot leave her
alone.”
“She will not be alone, Mr. Darcy,” Elizabeth replied
gently. He could not be thinking clearly. Not only would
he be mortified later, but looking upon his ashen complex-
ion, she was not certain he would not faint and take ill
himself.
“I will not leave her, I promise you. If something else
happens, I will send for you.” She grasped his hand, feeling
32
it tremble, its icy coldness sending a corresponding shud-
der through her, and whispered, “I promise, Fitzwilliam.”

Two days later saw little improvement, despite all the
best efforts of the household. The physician appeared grim
when he exited Georgiana’s chambers. “Mrs. Darcy, Miss
Darcy’s condition is grave and I see little hope for improve-
ment if her fever does not break. I think you should pre-
pare for the worst.”
“No,” she immediately cried, briefly gripping the doctor’s
arm in panic. “You have to do something. She is only a
girl. She cannot…”
“I have tried every remedy. I will stay, with your permis-
sion, but at the moment,” he broke off with a sigh. “I see
little hope.”
She entered the sickroom to find her husband keep-
ing his usual vigil at Georgiana’s side. “Did Dr. Richards
speak with you?”
He nodded but remained silent. When he finally spoke,
his dispassionate tone seemed strangely out of place to
Elizabeth’s ears. “I keep thinking of Robert Burns.”
“Robert Burns?” Elizabeth parroted numbly.
“Yes. One of his poems repeats itself in my mind.
‘But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best laid schemes o’ mice and men
Gang aft a-gley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promised joy!’
I thought I could control what happened to her and had
such confidence in my decisions. If I had acted differently,
perhaps she would not be suffering now. All my planning,
all my scheming and I may lose her yet.”
“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth replied quietly, when the sen-
timent of her heart at last penetrated her grief, “you did
what you thought was best, out of the love in your heart
for your sister. I cannot fault you for it and she would not
either.”
He glanced at Elizabeth briefly before staring again at
his sister. She left quietly, unable to think of anything else
to say.

Mrs. Reynolds searched for Elizabeth until she was
found in her sitting room. The servant looked worried and
anxious, but Elizabeth was too numb to even feel uneasy.
 “Mrs. Darcy, Lord Fitzwilliam has arrived. He is asking
for the master.”
Elizabeth sighed wearily. “I will be down shortly. Show
him into the drawing room.”
After greeting her, he immediately came to the point,
in his usual cool, efficient tones. “I received Fitzwilliam’s
letter. I sent Richard an express before I left. How is
Georgiana?”
She glanced at the older man, catching the flicker of
fear in his green eyes and briefly recalling the same look
in Darcy’s that morning. “She is gravely unwell. The physi-
cian informs us there is not much hope. Her fever contin-
ues unabated.”
“I want to see my niece.” Elizabeth could do little but
show him to her chambers.
After sitting with her for a few minutes, he turned a
stern glare on Elizabeth. “I do not understand how this
could have happened. I never thought she was like Anne.
Their mother became similarly ill right after…” His eyes
narrowed as he said sharply, “Young lady, you need to tell
me what has been happening here.”
“I have told you all I can, your lordship.”
“More likely all you plan to tell me. Where is my neph-
ew? You may not tell me, but he certainly will.” She felt
the impatience well up at his imperious tone.
“I will not allow you to confront him, not now,”
Elizabeth replied firmly. Before the angry disbelief settled
over his face, she saw another flicker of fear, and his eyes,
so reminiscent of her husband’s, caused her to temper her
next words.
“When you see Fitzwilliam, you shall see for yourself his
grief and worry. I do not think he can bear your questions
now,” she pleaded quietly.
He looked at her appraisingly for a long minute before
replying evenly, “Very well. I am certain my nephew is quite
distressed. I will wait until Richard arrives, but I will obtain
some answers.” He turned on his heel and left the room.
Even without his uncle’s most unwelcome presence,
Elizabeth had already determined she must do something
about Darcy. The unrelenting demands on his time and
energy were undermining his health at an alarming rate.
“Fitzwilliam,” she said firmly, standing in front of the enor-
mous desk in his study, sadly beholding his gaunt, exhaust-
ed appearance. “Let me ring for a tray for you. You need to
eat something. Then perhaps you could nap upstairs while
your uncle and I look after Georgiana.”
“No,” he replied determinedly, not looking up from the
letter he was writing. “I have to see to a legal matter, and
then I need to ride out to the Smith farm. I will sit with
Georgiana when I return.”
She rolled her eyes at his obstinacy, restraining the impa-
tience from coloring her tone. “Could you not allow your
uncle to assist you? He and I could call on Mr. Smith in
your stead. You told me about the dispute last week, and I
doubt Mr. Smith shall argue too much with your uncle.”
“Pemberley is my responsibility, Elizabeth,” was his curt
response. “I will not abdicate.”
“I would never ask you to do so,” she snapped as her pa-
tience wore thin. “But you cannot continue in this vein.”
He turned a cold gaze on her, his cool, clipped tones
reverberating in study. “I shall thank you, Mrs. Darcy, to
allow me to mind my own affairs. I have done so before
you came to Pemberley and I refuse to fail my estate or
Georgiana.”
She felt the anger bubble forth in spite of her best in-
tentions. She placed her hands on his desk and he finally
laid aside his quill to meet her gaze, his cool eyes meeting
her angry ones. “You also have a duty to me, Fitzwilliam
Darcy, and I will thank you to remember it. If you think
you are performing any favors to me by neglecting yourself,
you are gravely mistaken. Your sister will not thank you
for it either.”
Her eyes softened when she caught the pained expres-
sion briefly upon his face. She walked around his desk to
stand beside him, touching his wan cheek with her fin-
gertips as his eyes fluttered closed. She took a deep breath,
determined to be as kind and patient as Jane would gen-
tly admonish her to act, as she beseeched quietly, “I have
never doubted your abilities to take care of us all, and very
well at that. I find it admirable, but I also admire your
intelligence. I am certain you will determine you can only
fulfill your duties to your satisfaction if you are well, and
there is nothing shameful in needing the assistance of your
family.”
He opened his eyes, placing his hand on the small one
resting on his cheek, before bringing it to his lips for a
brief kiss and releasing it. She suppressed a sigh at the de-
termination remaining in his eyes. “Please think about it,
Fitzwilliam.”
33

Chapter 12
L
ord Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth Darcy sat opposite in
the carriage headed back to Pemberley, as the earl
silently contemplated the young lady, desperate for
another subject besides his ill niece. In
London, he had been relieved to find Mrs. Darcy a mod-
estly pretty, well-mannered sort of girl, not the wild crea-
ture he feared would be the product of her disadvanta-
geous circumstances. She seemed to preside over Darcy’s
household in London with an adequate amount of poise
for a young bride, and Pemberley apparently found her ac-
ceptable.
She did not possess the fashionable manner of London
ladies, but he conceded her lack of artifice suited Darcy.
His nephew had never had patience for insincerity or fawn-
ing attentions, and the lady’s genuine manner and sense
of independence had served her well so far. He certainly
could not suppress the grudging admiration at her ability
to convince Darcy to let them visit Mr. Smith today.
Darcy had never allowed such transfer of responsibility
before, not even when his father had been dying. He knew
how deeply it went against his nephew’s ingrained sense of
duty to let anyone handle an estate affair. But the young
lady could apparently manage him quite well and she pos-
sessed an astounding knowledge and grasp of the boundary
dispute necessitating their visit. He had never expected his
nephew would discuss such matters with a woman, Lady
Anne being the sole exception, but Elizabeth Darcy was
obviously in her husband’s confidence. He looked again at
the young lady, barely older than a girl, sitting across from
him, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap. She had an
air of confidence he normally would have disdained in one
so young, and yet, combined it with an intelligence and
sense that could not but impress him.
And she has enough determination not to be intimidated,
not even by a stern, demanding uncle. From standing up to
my demands, to arranging for today’s visit, she has demon-
strated her concern for Fitzwilliam’s well-being. Knowing my
nephew, I am absolutely convinced their conversation could
not have been wholly pleasant, nor can I imagine an after-
noon in my company much of an inducement. Only genuine
concern for his welfare could have precipitated such actions.
She is correct to be concerned, he thought with a sigh, recol-
lecting his shock when he met his nephew, obviously be-
side himself with worry.
With the grave situation surrounding Georgiana, he was
not satisfied with the secrecy he perceived in the couple,
and even in his own son. He strongly suspected his jovial
son had been subdued when he returned from Pemberley
on account of Georgiana, and he could not force himself
to voice the horrible conclusions he had reached without
34
confirmation. I am certain he will show up in a day or two
and I will not rest until I discover the truth.

The earl did not wait long after his son’s arrival to seek
answers. No sooner had Colonel Fitzwilliam ridden to
Pemberley and visited Georgiana, did his father demand
his presence in his chambers. “I did not ask your cousin,
but I will ask you to tell me what happened to Georgiana
this summer.”
Richard glanced at his father in shock, but was too wea-
ry and distressed to argue. Lord Fitzwilliam listened quietly
with mounting anger until his son finished. He strode to
the window, looking out to regain some composure, before
spitting out contemptuously, “George Darcy was always
a fool where Wickham’s son was concerned. How many
times did Anne try to convince him of the danger poised
by that boy? He pushed aside his own heir to favor that un-
grateful brat and here is his repayment! It is intolerable.”
They were both still for several minutes before his lord-
ship added more calmly, “But Fitzwilliam’s actions are be-
yond my comprehension. How could he conjure up such a
scheme? And ensnaring a young lady to participate in it? I
did not think it possible for him to act so.”
Richard looked at the earl warily, before explaining,
“She knew about Georgiana and Wickham before she ac-
cepted Darcy.”
As he predicted, his father turned to him with angry in-
credulity. “Do you mean to tell me my nephew told a girl
he barely knew such a secret and he would not tell me?
Has he gone mad?”
He then narrowed his green eyes at Richard. “And you…
why did not you see fit to tell me? At the very least, you
should have talked your cousin out of it.”
Richard humorlessly laughed. “I did not even know
about Georgiana’s condition or Darcy’s marriage until af-
ter the fact. Even if I had known, do you think you or I
could have stopped him? You know how stubborn we all
are, and Darcy more than most. In his defense, Darcy has
always been a good judge of character. He assured me of
Elizabeth’s kindness and loyalty, and I have seen no evi-
dence to suggest otherwise.”
“Nor have I,” the earl conceded quietly as he returned
his gaze to the window. “But his behavior remains baffling.
There were other ways, much easier ways, to resolve this
situation without resorting to such a drastic step as mar-
riage.”
Richard sighed forlornly. “Yes, I know that is true for
you and me, but perhaps not for Darcy. As I told him my-
self, he is too noble for his own good.”
The earl scoffed, “I know all about Fitzwilliam’s ideal-
ism. It was one of the more tolerable qualities of his father.
At least, unlike his father, he usually tempers his idealism
with good judgment. I want to thrash him for what he has
done and for keeping it from me.”
His tone softened slightly, his affection obvious to his
son, “But I will not. Fitzwilliam has suffered enough. I
only hope and pray for Georgiana to survive. The thought
of more misfortune befalling Anne’s children is almost
more than I can bear.”
Richard could only agree.
 gue too strenuously with them both.
Elizabeth entered Georgiana’s chambers after din-
ner, where her husband already sat, absently stroking the
younger girl’s hand. They sat in silence for several minutes,
and Elizabeth startled when he finally spoke, his voice ee-
rily low and distant. “I remember Mama doing this, right
before…” Hearing his choked sound, Elizabeth sat gently
beside him.
She watched in stunned amazement as his shoulders
shook silently. She had been irritated and exasperated by
the distant reserve he had exhibited since his sister took
ill. She had known he was not unaffected; she had seen
glimpses of his fear and his sleep deprived, ragged appear-
ance was apparent. Seeing him now, so completely heart-
broken, she understood why he had not allowed his com-
posure to slip beforehand.
She wrapped her arms around his waist from behind,
pressing her cheek against his back upon hearing the un-
restrained grief of his voice. “I lost Mama, then Father
and now Georgiana’s child… I cannot bear the thought
of losing her as well. Why is this happening to her? My
sweet, little sister who has never wished ill for anyone in
her life…”
Her tears leaked from her eyes, into the back of his crisp
linen shirt as she replied shakily. “Georgiana remains with
us. We cannot lose hope.” She felt his hand grip her arm so
tightly it was nearly painful. He suddenly turned, embrac-
ing her tightly against his heart as he buried his lips into
her hair. She felt him shaking and dearly hoped, for all
their sakes, a better outcome than the physician predicted.
When she felt his trembling subside, she said, “Come,
Fitzwilliam. I have ordered a tray for you in your cham-
bers.” Sensing his hesitation, she loosened her grip upon
him and glanced up, brushing back a lock of light brown
hair off of his forehead. “Your uncle will sit with her. It is
all decided.”
Elizabeth never thought she would be grateful for his
uncle’s commanding presence, yet she was. The man,
whom she had so disliked in London, seemed quite dif-
ferent to her now. So much about him reminded her of
Darcy. His upright carriage, his eyes, even most of his cool,
reserved manners were copied in Darcy. She did not feel
he possessed the generosity of her husband, but she real-
ized, in his way, Lord Fitzwilliam was an excellent sort of
man.
He had taken some of the burden off of her by sitting up
with Georgiana, and he had backed her opinion on a cou-
ple of occasions when Darcy had needed a reminder not
to neglect himself. His uncle might not wholly approve of
her, and she was uncertain if she wholly approved of him
either, but they each approved of the other’s affection for
Darcy and their concern for his best interests were enough
to form a common bond. Darcy seemed disinclined to ar-
She did not know whether to be more relieved or
alarmed at Darcy’s easy acceptance when he nodded his
head and rose. He leaned over and kissed his sister’s fe-
vered cheek before assisting Elizabeth to rise. She slipped
an arm around his waist as they silently crossed the hall
into his chambers.

Elizabeth awakened to a glorious dawn on the last day
of January as a tiny ray of sunshine penetrated the heavy
velvet draperies. She shook off the vestiges of sleep and dis-
orientation, finally recognizing that she had fallen asleep
in Georgiana’s chambers. She glanced over at Darcy, the
anguish evident on his face even in slumber.
Elizabeth turned to the bed, almost afraid of the breath-
less silence of the room. Feeling Georgiana’s forehead, a
tide of fear washed through her until she spied the steady
rise of breath coming from Georgiana’s sleeping form. A
small smile broke out on Elizabeth’s face.
“Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said as she gently nudged him.
He bolted from his chair, a wild look of fear on his face.
“Her fever has broken.” He quickly marched to her bed, a
small, tentative smile curving his lips as he felt his sister’s
forehead, cool for the first time in over a week. He slipped
an arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders, pressing a kiss against
her temple, before summoning the doctor.
Upon confirmation from the physician of Georgiana’s
improvement, Darcy informed his uncle and Richard. The
cautious, tempered joy spread throughout Pemberley when
Miss Darcy woke and slowly recovered. Each sign of re-
turning strength, of increasing color, and restored health
caused the Darcy/Fitzwilliam clan to have new reasons for
gratitude.
35

Chapter 13
G
eorgiana glanced out the windows of the down-
stairs parlor, noticing with amazement the first
crocuses in bloom. Only one more week until
March. Soon, spring will arrive. She hardly knew
what to make of her jumbled feelings since she had recov-
ered from her fever. She had felt very sad about the loss of
the child, weeping piteously when her brother told her, yet
confused and guilty about the twinge of relief later.
She sometimes thought it was for the child’s benefit
never to be born. He or she would never know the hor-
rible circumstances of its conception. She would not have
to worry if one day the child should discover she was the
mother, and the father was a vile, hateful man, devoid of
every proper feeling. Then she would think of the sweet in-
nocence of the Gardiner children, and become overwhelm-
ingly saddened for the life that never would be.
She wished, not for the first time, she had someone she
could talk to about her conflicting emotions, yet she knew
she could not. Her family kindly listened to her, but they
could never truly understand. Her brother, while every-
thing excellent and upright, was a man unable to compre-
hend her emotions. Neither could Elizabeth understand,
always wrapped in the security of the affections of her
brother and his unstinting concern for her welfare.
Georgiana perceived a barrier between her and the rest
of the world as solid as the glass separating her from the
chilly February air. She would never be the same Georgiana
Darcy who traveled to Ramsgate. She would never be like
other sixteen-year-old girls, attending balls eagerly, hop-
ing for beaus. She was now different, changed forever, and
some days it was quite baffling, but she also found reasons
to be grateful.
Her brother had gradually ceased his anxious watch over
her and the shadow of grief began to retreat from his eyes.
She had been dismayed to discover her brother’s pale, thin
appearance when she became well enough to notice. Her
family had told her how he had worried and sat up with
her, night after night. And her sister, dearest Elizabeth,
was as precious to her as any sister could ever be. Elizabeth
had read, sang, and played for her, in the same kind man-
ner Elizabeth always had.
Not only had Elizabeth cared so faithfully for her, but
Georgiana saw the concern Elizabeth showed for her
brother, which could only make her dearer to Georgiana’s
gentle heart. In the quiet company of the drawing room,
she observed Elizabeth teasing him to elicit a smile or sub-
tly arranging the household to his preference as trays of
his favorite foods appeared in the rooms he occupied. She
had thought them companionable before, but now there
seemed to be a tangible bond between them.
36
Richard had told countless tales for her amusement of
life in His Majesty’s service, most of which she felt cer-
tain were fabrications, but she could not help but love him
for it. His eagerness to make her laugh touched her heart.
Uncle Fitzwilliam, who had long intimidated her before,
had been so kind, telling her stories of her mother’s child-
hood and she felt closer to him and her mother than ever.
She had suffered greatly and remained afraid of so many
things; but, when she considered the love and support of
her family, especially from Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth, she
felt fortunate. She perceived every heartache had some cor-
responding, if not wholly perfect, balm in the company
of her nearest relations. When she considered the fates
of so many young ladies like herself, without the best of
brothers, the kindest of sisters, the fondness and love from
cousins and uncles, she knew herself, in some respects at
least, to be a most fortunate young lady. She resolved never
to take for granted the privileges of being Miss Darcy of
Pemberley.

Lord Fitzwilliam sat silently as his nephew dispatched
orders for his upcoming journey to Bingley’s estate. After
the steward left, he remarked, “Nephew, I know Bingley
is a close friend of yours, but surely you can make your
excuses. I am sure he would understand.”
“Bingley has always been very amiable, uncle, but he is
marrying Elizabeth’s sister.”
“He is marrying your wife’s sister? Well, for a man of
Bingley’s stature, such a match is not wholly bad, especial-
ly with your marriage.” He remarked more sincerely, “If
her sister is similar to Mrs. Darcy, I am certain he could
do much worse.”
Darcy smiled slightly, knowing his uncle’s remark to
be eff usive praise, considering his previous attitude. “Miss
Bennet and Elizabeth have somewhat different personali-
ties perhaps, but Jane is an excellent woman.” His smile
faded. “I hate to send Elizabeth alone, although I doubt
I would be much assistance with ladies’ fashion, but she
deserves a fortnight with her sister after all the worry
Georgiana and I have caused her.”
His uncle looked at him seriously. “You both deserve
some respite. I could take Georgiana back to Lancashire
and you could accompany your wife.”
“No, uncle, I thank you for your offer, but I think
Elizabeth should go alone for now. I might ask you to take
Georgiana with you instead of taking her to Hertfordshire
with me.”
“Afraid to expose her to the savages of the southern
counties?”
Darcy laughed quietly. “Not everyone in Hertfordshire
is as gracious as my wife, I admit, though none of them
are vicious. I do not know if Georgiana is prepared for
their unconventional society.”
“I suggest you ask your sister, young man. She should be
recovered enough if she wishes the journey. She is remark-
able, and you and Richard should be commended.”
Darcy looked at his uncle sadly. “You know your praise
is undeserved.”
His uncle replied sternly, “You listen to me. I told
Richard and I tell you now. Neither of you could have fore-
seen the future. Even if I had been her guardian, I might
not have done any better. I would have hired a compan-
ion, and I would have been as susceptible to hiring Mrs.
Younge as the two of you. Your father allowed his godson
access to his family, not you.”
Darcy looked very disturbed by his criticism, and his
uncle continued, more gently, “I do not wholly blame
your father, although I was exasperated by the rift that
boy caused between your parents. Any young man in
Wickham’s circumstances should have been grateful for the
very generous support of your father, but he failed to take
proper advantage of your father’s benevolence. He and his
envy of you caused all of this—not you, not Richard and
not Georgiana. I will not sit idly by while the innocent
take on the crimes of the guilty.”
“I believe you are lecturing me, uncle,” Darcy replied
mildly.
“None of us are ever too old to be lectured. Besides,” his
uncle continued with a small smile, “I have the impression
you have endured at least one lecture from Mrs. Darcy,
and knowing women, you will likely endure many more.
Compared to the ire I imagine you will undoubtedly de-
serve from her, you can listen to a slight rebuke from me.”
Darcy and his uncle exchanged slight, knowing smiles.
Darcy saw his uncle redden and clear his throat uncom-
fortably. “Fitzwilliam, I should have spoken up before, but
I was too shocked at your marriage to think of it. I am
aware, due to what I now understand about your marriage,
there are certain…rites of marriage you have not experi-
enced with your wife.”
Lord Fitzwilliam looked down at the carpet as the flush
crept up on Darcy’s face and neck. “I do not know what
you have experienced in your bachelor days, but I am cer-
tain you have not acted as my sons have. Oh, they are both
good men, but you have always been rather…idealistic. A
new bride is a different sort of experience at any rate.”
His uncle sighed in exasperation, “I am rambling like
an old man, but I am determined to discuss this with you,
as you are without your father. There are some facts you
must know.” Darcy and his uncle talked in the privacy of
his study for almost an hour.
 He seemed very serious, but Elizabeth could not under-
Fleet prison lived up to every horror Wickham ever
imagined. He spent his days humbly begging at the grates
for meager funds from passersby and then forced to turn
over the sums to the jailkeeper in exchange for mean ac-
commodations and barely edible rations.
No one at Pemberley, not even the poorest tenant,
would subsist in such deplorable conditions. His life was
a far cry from the opulence he had imagined last summer
at Ramsgate. When the fever raging through the prison
consumed him, he was almost grateful.

“Fitzwilliam, is something troubling you?” Darcy
looked up from his breakfast plate, glancing worriedly at
Georgiana.
He did not understand the look in his sister’s eyes but
she looked…stable. “I received a letter this morning.” He
blurted suddenly, “Mr. Wickham is dead.”
No one seemed to know what to say. Elizabeth and
Darcy glanced surreptitiously at her while continuing to
eat. Finally, Georgiana spoke in a fierce tone, almost un-
recognizable coming from her. “May God forgive his soul
as I certainly never shall.”
The room was silent for several moments, before the sub-
ject of Jane’s wedding reigned over the table.

Darcy knocked on the connecting door to his wife’s
chambers, watching silently as the footmen carried the trunk
from her room. Closing the door behind her, she turned to
him with a smile. “I believe I am ready at last, Fitzwilliam.
After I take leave of our family, I am set to depart.”
Darcy looked at her solemnly before stepping near her.
He had loved her dearly before the frights of the past
weeks, but now she was inexpressibly precious. He could
not imagine any young bride able to cope with a stubborn
husband, a demanding uncle, and a gravely ill sister bet-
ter than his Elizabeth. He pressed a passionately intense
kiss upon her lips, the sweetness of her mouth spreading
through him, before releasing her to take her hand. “I shall
miss you, my dear. You will write when you arrive?”
She glanced at him, her eyes brimming with a steady
affection, utterly astonishing him each time he beheld it.
“Yes, I will.” She added somewhat anxiously, “You will join
me in a fortnight? If Georgiana remains well, of course.
Bingley will be hosting a ball at Netherfield.”
stand the light in his eyes. “I intend to be present, on one
condition.”
37
 “What is it, Fitzwilliam?” she asked in surprise. “I shall manage,” she replied. “Mr. Bingley is your inti-
“Each time I have asked you to dance, I have been re- mate friend, and Miss Bennet is Elizabeth’s sister. I should
fused. Now that you are Mrs. Darcy, may I hope you will attend and I want to be there, if you will allow it.”
accept me should I ask?” Darcy looked at his uncle, who merely shrugged. The
Elizabeth laughed cheerfully at her husband, delighting doctor had assured him, repeatedly, that Georgiana was
in the proof of his continued recovery from the trials and well, and he could see for himself the bloom returning to
horrors of the past weeks. “Well, Mr. Darcy, I remain un- her cheeks. He turned back to his sister with a gentle smile.
certain of your merits as a partner, and I know how you “As you wish, my dear.”
feel about yielding without conviction.”
Elizabeth rose on her tiptoes to kiss him softly, smiling
archly into his eyes before fondly brushing a lock of his
light brown hair from his forehead. “I suppose we shall
have to determine if your request is persuasive enough.”
Darcy decided it would be a very long fortnight until he
received an answer.

The fortnight did pass slowly for him. Were it not for
his duties at Pemberley and the recovery of his sister, he
thought the wait might have seemed interminable. The
estate, which he had long felt was his own, now also be-
longed to Elizabeth, as small reminders of her pervaded
almost every room. He smiled when he read her letter.

“Dear Fitzwilliam,

I have arrived safely at Longbourn in good health. The

journey was a long one, but with the competence of our
servants, not overly taxing. Mama is determined to keep us
busy at all hours, having planned so many engagements and
appointments, I have lost count. I thought you should be
forewarned, so you will not fret over my dereliction of duty.
(Do not deny it, sir, for I know your tendency to fret.) I look
forward to seeing you in a fortnight.

Aff ectionately yours,

Elizabeth Darcy”

Georgiana listened silently as her brother and un-

cle discussed their options for her during Bingley’s wed-
ding. She turned to her brother timidly. “Fitzwilliam,”
she said quietly. “I would like to accompany you to
Hertfordshire.”
“I would enjoy your company,” Darcy said, then hesi-
tated. “But the Bennets are not all like Jane and Elizabeth,
my dear. They can be rather…boisterous. I do not wish for
you to be uncomfortable.”
38

Chapter 14
E
lizabeth felt a rush of excitement as the carriage
rolled into Hertfordshire. She had exchanged fre-
quent letters with Jane, and some occasional ones
with the other members of her family, but nothing
could replace actually seeing them again. When she pulled
up to Longbourn, her family awaited her eagerly. She em-
braced each of them and listened politely, if not altogether
patiently, to her mother’s commentary. “Welcome home,
Mrs. Darcy.”
Elizabeth bit back a smile as her mother waved her hand-
kerchief carelessly. “Mrs. Darcy! How well that sounds.
Your carriage is very grand and you look so elegant! What
a fine gown.”
“Yes, yes, Mrs. Bennet. We all know your penchant for
finery. Give your papa a hug, Lizzy.” Elizabeth turned to
her father, momentarily dismayed by his appearance. He
looked frail, as she took in his pallid skin.
“Papa,” she inquired with concern, “Have you been
well?”
“As well as I might expect, with all the talk of silk and
ribbons. You are a sight for sore eyes, my child.” Mr.
Bennet rolled his eyes upon his wife’s commencement of
discussing dinner engagements and wedding clothes, com-
manding the attention of her daughters. The next three
weeks will be a sore trial, he thought as he led the way into
the halls of Longbourn, seeking the solitude of his study.
Elizabeth could not help but take notice of the differenc-
es between Jane’s engagement and her own. She had read
in Jane’s letters and heard her sister’s own frank admission
on how tiresome the long engagement had been. It did not
tax Elizabeth’s discernment to understand her mother’s de-
termination that Jane would have every attention bestowed
upon her from their Meryton neighbors. Mrs. Bennet had
seen the good sense when Elizabeth advised her not to test
Mr. Darcy’s patience with an unwanted lengthy engage-
ment, but Mrs. Bennet felt no fear from the affable Mr.
Bingley nor her patient eldest daughter.
They had traveled to London twice to spend recklessly
on Jane’s trousseau; and, to Elizabeth’s surprise, her father
hadn’t seemed to object to the extravagance. Elizabeth’s
eyes widened at the extensive trousseau Jane displayed
to her. She felt a surge of sympathy for her beloved sis-
ter, wishing she could have done more for her, although
Elizabeth doubted her mother would have paid any heed.
Her mother had sent Elizabeth a letter in late January,
bemoaning Elizabeth’s inability to host them at the ele-
gant Darcy townhouse due to their removal to Pemberley.
Were it not for the gravity of Georgiana’s health, Elizabeth
might have found amusement in her mother’s letter. But
now, witnessing her mother’s behavior personally, she felt
sympathy for Jane mixed with her amusement. Poor Jane,
to be cursed with so much patience and serenity. She had
never been more grateful Darcy’s forbidding manner made
her own engagement considerably shorter.
Elizabeth did fine some enjoyment during the fortnight
she spent in her childhood home. She laughed and con-
versed fondly with her sisters and caught up on all the
news from the neighbors. She certainly had every oppor-
tunity to renew her acquaintance with the neighborhood
as her mother had arranged an endless schedule of engage-
ments upon her arrival. She shot Jane a knowing smile at
the delight Mrs. Bennet took in using Elizabeth’s married
name, reminding the neighborhood matrons of her daugh-
ter’s advantageous circumstances.
During the days and evenings, there was much for
Elizabeth to do and little time for any serious thought. But
in the serenity of the night air, gently billowing the cur-
tains in her former chambers, she felt a pang of melancholy,
thinking of how everything she had believed about her fa-
ther had been overthrown. He had always been a reclusive
man, but she had been his favorite and had overlooked his
faults, though they had given her pain.
She thought she could overlook his lapse of judgment
with Mr. Collins and could go back to the easy relationship
they once had, but her father had spent most of his time in
his library or his chambers and made his wishes for solitude
clearly understood. Faced with his neglect and having such
a daily example of what a husband could be, she could not
keep from feeling bitterly disappointed. She felt slightly un-
balanced, as if she had truly never known him.
Her thoughts also turned toward Darcy and Georgiana.
She would think of the magnificent estate where she now
belonged, full of delightful paths for her walks and the
various important responsibilities she had left behind. Even
more compelling were the memories of her husband and
his quiet, amiable company along with her shy, good-na-
tured sister to whom she had grown so close. She recalled
with fondness the evenings spent in the main drawing
room, enjoying the intelligent conversation of her intimate
family party.
Not that they had neglected her, even now. She smiled,
thinking of the letters she had received from them both,
their anecdotes of the happenings at Pemberley and
best wishes for her visit. She rejoiced with her husband
at Georgiana’s continued improvement and with her sis-
ter when she wrote how Darcy had regained some of the
weight and color lost in January.
Despite all of the attentions from Darcy, Elizabeth could
not help a few seeds of doubt from creeping upon her. In
the company of her sister and Bingley, full of lovers’ en-
thusiasm, she was reminded her marriage had been made
under much different circumstances, and her husband’s of-
fer not the result of unalloyed inclination. Would he have
married a different woman, a wealthier, well connected
woman, more pleasing to his family?
39
 She knew she was being foolish; her husband had dis-
played his regard for her in countless ways. They had com-
panionship, mutual understanding and trust, ingredients
not seen in many marriages in her experience. And the
horror of Georgiana’s loss and illness had made each mo-
ment even more treasured, but a nagging doubt remained,
far in the recesses of her mind, and she was not completely
able to brush it aside.
 restraint to keep from running, relieved when she finally
“When do Mr. and Miss Darcy arrive at Netherfield,
Lizzy?” Mrs. Bennet queried one morning at breakfast.
“They arrive this afternoon,” Elizabeth replied, thinking
a fortnight had never seemed so long.
“Very good. I am sure Mr. Darcy will understand you
want to remain here until the wedding.”
Elizabeth looked at her mother incredulously. “I intend
to join him and Miss Darcy at Netherfield.”
“Mama,” Jane interjected patiently. “You must see Lizzy’s
place is with her husband.”
Mrs. Bennet replied peevishly, “Why must I see it? I
certainly do not see it. Her rightful place is here with us.
Lizzy, as I told you before you married, if you want satis-
faction, in and out of the marital bed, you must learn to
manage your husband.”
Elizabeth felt her cheeks crimson and saw the corre-
sponding blush on Jane’s. “Mama, Mr. Darcy and I are
managing admirably,” Elizabeth said firmly. “My place is
at Netherfield and that is my resolve.”
The ride to Netherfield seemed so surreal, as Elizabeth
contemplated how she was the matron escort for her el-
der sister. When she recalled her mother’s earlier words, it
caused her cheeks to flush, recalling how very unmatron-
ly she felt. Determined not to think of it now, Elizabeth
turned to her sister. “Jane, has Papa been spending all of
his time in the study since I have married? I have hardly
seen him since I arrived.”
“Oh Papa never comes out of his study or his chamber
anymore. La! I sometimes do not remember we have a fa-
ther,” Lydia replied with a careless toss of her head. Mrs.
Bennet was unable to accompany her daughters on ac-
count of a last minute call from Lady Lucas, but Lydia’s
insistence on attending the Bingleys was a suitable substi-
tute for her mother’s absence.
“I think Papa has been overcome with all the wedding
preparations,” Jane explained serenely before a faint frown
marred her beautiful face, “but I am surprised we have not
seen more of him since you arrived.” Elizabeth was as sur-
prised as Jane and did not know quite what to make of it.
 Jane and Bingley?”
40
Elizabeth felt a surge of delight when her handsome
husband descended the carriage steps at Netherfield and
handed out his sister. She joyfully embraced Georgiana,
pleased at her sister’s increased good health, and accepted
Darcy’s restrained kiss on her hand with misty eyes. She
sat in the parlor until she felt sufficient time had elapsed to
make polite excuses and head for her chambers.
Perhaps she had been a bit precipitous, if Miss Bingley’s
disapproving pucker was a trustworthy indication, but
she had to see him alone. She used every bit of ladylike
reached her chambers. Hesitating an instant, she took a
deep breath as she faced the connecting door. Her cheeks
blushing, she resolutely knocked upon it, briefly consid-
ering how she would feel if he was unhappy at her bold-
ness.
Those thoughts soon died when her husband opened the
door and entered her room, a brilliant, unrestrained smile
on his lips. The sight of his smile, the immaculate groom-
ing of his brown locks, and his impeccably tailored form,
more robust than when she had left Pemberley, made her
heart beat almost painfully. She launched herself into his
arms, his pleasant, masculine scent wrapping around her
as securely as his arms.
“Elizabeth,” he said with a joyfully bewildered laugh. “I
believe you missed me, dearest.”
“Oh, I did miss you dreadfully,” she replied happily,
drawing back to look on him again. “I enjoyed my family,
but it was not the same, not without you and Georgiana.”
She pressed her right cheek to his waistcoat and sighed
contentedly.
“Georgiana and I missed you as well, I assure you.” He
kissed the top of her head before continuing, almost in a
whisper, “Pemberley was not quite the same without you. I
am happy to be here.”
“You have plenty of opportunities to express your joy at
your return to Hertfordshire, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said
mischievously. “We have the dinner with Mama this eve-
ning and the ball the day after tomorrow, both of which
should provide endless pleasures.”
A smile tugged at his lips before he replied, “All of which
I will attend if you are present, although I cannot promise
how joyful I will be.”
Elizabeth did not attempt to restrain her laugh.

A few minutes later and much too soon for Mr. and
Mrs. Darcy, they made their way to the drawing room,
conscripted to accompany Jane and Bingley on a walk to-
wards Meryton. “Please enlighten me, Elizabeth,” Darcy
grumbled. “How did we draw the task of chaperoning
 Elizabeth smiled sympathetically. “Lydia wishes to re-
turn to Longbourn and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst are
not avid walkers. If you are unequal to it, you can retire
and I will go.”
“No, thank you, Mrs. Darcy,” he replied with more good
humor. “I am willing to endure it to secure your compa-
ny.”
Darcy was glad he had agreed. He was pleased to see
his friend’s happiness and even more so when he perceived
the affection reciprocated on Jane’s mien. Becoming more
familiar with Jane, he had discerned she possessed a re-
serve not wholly unlike his own, but now, in the intimate
company at Netherfield and with her wedding imminent,
Jane seemed to glow with happiness. The affection flowed
between them, if somewhat effusive on Bingley’s behalf,
but Darcy took pleasure in their good fortune.
Darcy turned reflective, considering what might have
happened if he had interfered in their courtship. The
thought of causing pain to his friend or to Jane was so-
bering. If I had interfered, I would have certainly drawn
Elizabeth’s wrath. She would have found any injury to her
beloved sister nearly intolerable. He was relieved he had
minded his own affairs and refrained from injuring two
kind friends.
He could only feel slightly wistful as he thought upon
his own courtship and how very different it had been,
glancing sideways at his beloved wife. What might it had
been like to conduct a courtship of Elizabeth under joyful cir-
cumstances? Would I ever have seen past her family’s behavior
and connections and made her a proposal of marriage? If not,
how much I would have missed!
Elizabeth’s thoughts were apparently not far removed
from his when she inquired solemnly, in a timid voice un-
familiar to him, “Do you ever regret our marriage?”
“Certainly not,” he replied firmly, before conceding, “I
do wish the situation had been different, but I am very
proud to have you as my wife. I hope I have shown you as
much.”
“You have, sir.”
Disliking the look of doubt on her face, he squeezed
the delicate hand on his arm in reassurance, nodding to-
ward the couple ahead. “I wish we could have had their
courtship. You deserved a suitor not distracted by his own
troubles. Although, I never could have been a suitor of
Bingley’s manner.”
“Perish the thought, sir,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.
“His manner would not suit you.”
She glanced at him, the doubtful expression swimming
in her eyes as she remarked quietly, “I know, had circum-
stances been different, you might have made a more ad-
vantageous marriage, a marriage bringing more pleasure to
your family as well.”
Convinced Jane and Bingley were engrossed in their
own company, he stopped, turning to face her. His gloved
hands gently gripped her waist, his mind barely registering
its disbelief at the departure from his usual decorum. “You
possess all the most important advantages I would wish in
a wife. My family is reconciled to our marriage, except for
Lady Catherine, and I can hope my aunt will follow. But
even if she does not, I have no regrets on my choice of wife
and I never will.”
He felt a rush of feeling come over him as he glanced at
the figure beside him, still appearing so uncertain as she
chewed her lower lip. Smiling, he touched her lip, and her
teeth reliquished their hold. “Despite being unlike Bingley,
my manners should not prevent me from telling you how
very much I love you now.” He felt her tense, as she glanced
away with a blush.
“Elizabeth,” he whispered as he lightly touched his
gloved fingers to her cheek. “I want you to know what I
feel for you. I do not want you to profess any sentiments
not your own, but I am confident you hold me in some
tender regard.”
He saw a suspicious brightness in her eyes and his chest
clinched, wondering if he had make a colossal error. Before
he could berate himself further, he felt her hands climb up
his arms onto his shoulders as she learned onto her toes
and kissed his cheek. “I have a great deal of affection for
you, Fitzwilliam.” She then looked at him impishly as she
took his arm again. “We are supposed to be the chaper-
ones, yet, we seem to be in the greatest need of one.”
He placed his hand over the one resting on his arm and
stroked the metal of her wedding band. “Our situation
is quite different.” He heard Elizabeth inhale deeply and
tighten her hold. She looked slightly discomposed but far
from alarmed.
Darcy determined to lighten the mood, unwilling to
further expose himself on a public road. The flowers of
spring bloomed around them, as bright and cheerful as the
couple themselves. They chatted all the way into Meryton,
satisfied in the mutual happiness surrounding them.
41

Chapter 15
I
f Darcy was still amazed at the behavior of Elizabeth’s
family, he made certain to keep any trace of displea-
sure from his face. It seemed fairly effortless until he
caught the conversation of Mrs. Bennet from the oth-
er end of the table. “And the pin money, dear sister! It’ll
be nothing next to Mrs. Darcy, but what a fine thing for
my Jane. Of course, her being the most beautiful, I always
thought she would make the most advantageous marriage,
but I suppose Mr. Bennet was right about Lizzy being such
a clever girl.”
He glanced quickly at Elizabeth who looked miserable.
He grasped her hand beneath the tablecloth and determined
to redirect her attention. “Mr. Gardiner, you mentioned
your travel plans for this summer. You ought to come to
Pemberley, at least to break your travels, and fish in the
trout stream. I am certain Mrs. Darcy would be pleased to
see you and Mrs. Gardiner, would you not, my dear?”
Elizabeth smiled happily at him before turning toward
her uncle. “Uncle, please do come! Pemberley is a delight-
ful spot for your travels and my aunt could renew her ac-
quaintance in Lambton.”
Mr. Gardiner looked fondly at Elizabeth. “I will dis-
cuss it with your aunt but I am sure she will be delighted.”
Darcy sincerely liked the Gardiners and looked forward
to their company, but the light of approval shining in the
beautiful eyes of his wife would have been worth the invi-
tation even if the company was much less agreeable.
 he had intently watched, somewhat disconcerted, as she
Elizabeth watched her cousins thoughtfully, reflect-
ing on her earlier conversation with her aunt. She had fi-
nally found a moment alone with her aunt and asked some
pointed questions about marital relations. Mrs. Gardiner
seemed slightly shocked; however, to Elizabeth’s relief, she
was too discreet to pry.
She had been relieved after speaking with Mrs. Gardiner,
gathering enough to reaffirm her belief that intimacy with
her kind, tender husband should not be a cause of fright.
She only remained at a loss at how to convey her readi-
ness to Darcy himself. She knew she possessed a passionate
disposition and a bold nature, but she was not certain even
she had enough courage and passion to rise up to the in-
timidation of such a task.
Jane soon approached her, interrupting her thoughts
with a gentle smile. “You seem very thoughtful, Lizzy.”
Elizabeth turned to her sweet sister with a quizzical
smile. “Only this evening, or in general?”
42
“Both, actually. Bingley and I discussed how you and
Darcy have changed.”
“‘Darcy’ now, is it?” Elizabeth teased as Jane quietly
laughed.
“Oh, your husband asked me to call him by his Christian
name, but I told him I would have to work up to it. We
agreed on ‘Darcy’ in the meantime.”
Elizabeth laughed merrily, recalling her own similar con-
versation. “I am sure Fitzwilliam hears the sentiment often.”
She looked at her husband fondly, watching the shadowy
candlelight flicker over his handsome features. The candle-
light soon caught his lips, so firm and warm, and Elizabeth
felt a flutter of pleasure before forcing her gaze back onto
Jane. “He does not seem so changed to me.”
“Not so much in manner. He remains quiet and serious,
but he seems, I do not know, happier and more compla-
cent. And you, Lizzy, you have changed as well. You still
laugh often, but you also seem more genuinely happy.”
Elizabeth pressed Jane’s hand and answered truthfully,
“I am happy, Jane. I hope you will not take offense, but I
like my husband very well, even more than Bingley.”
Jane laughed. “I am relieved you have not become too
serious, Lizzy. I am so very happy for you and Darcy.”
“Thank you, dearest Jane.”

Elizabeth and Darcy may have felt Mr. Bennet had been
negligently absent, but her father had carefully observed
them both in the time available. Mr. Bennet had been by
turns distressed and pleased by what he witnessed in his
beloved daughter. When she first arrived in Hertfordshire,
descended from the carriage.
Her appearance, while not ostentatious or gaudy, was
filled with subtle signs of wealth, from the fine material
and flattering cut of her gown, to her complimentary ac-
cessories and elegant hairstyle. He had been astonished by
her poised authority, watching her effectively direct the ser-
vants carrying her trunks, her wedding ring gleaming in
the bright March sun. She looked every inch a fine, grand
lady, very much a Mrs. Darcy instead of Miss Elizabeth
Bennet, to her father’s consternation.
He noticed, with no small amazement, Darcy’s ease
with the Gardiners and Jane, before remembering Jane’s
stay in London last winter. He even overheard Jane, in
private conversation with the man, call him ‘Darcy’ and
Darcy’s accepting smile of the appellation. The proud man
retained the silent intensity he had always possessed; and,
although restraining his hauteur, Mr. Bennet did not be-
lieve he found the company of Mrs. Bennet and the three
youngest girls very palatable, nor was Darcy all ease and
friendliness towards himself.
 But Mr. Bennet decided he could overlook Darcy’s
reserve and formality, if he could make his Lizzy happy.
Darcy displayed every proper attention to Lizzy, but re-
mained very circumspect, although Mr. Bennet suspected
Lizzy might not appreciate the attentions from a man as
Bingley showed toward Jane. He observed Lizzy frequently
bestowing cheerful smiles toward her husband and receiv-
ing his rather restrained smile in return.
She did not appear distressed, downhearted or intimi-
dated by her husband. Mr. Bennet could not comprehend
the nature of their attachment; in most ways Darcy and
Elizabeth seemed as different as two people could possi-
bly be, but with proof of his daughter’s well being, he was
somewhat appeased, if not content. Feeling a fit of cough-
ing settle upon him, he abruptly excused himself after din-
ner, ascending the stairs to his chambers.
 er to his wife than usual which did not importune either
Darcy spent the next morning in his chambers, finish-
ing the stack of letters neatly sitting on the small desk. He
had forced himself to attend to business, and now eagerly
anticipated more pleasant company, absent of the concerns
of tenants, attorneys or bankers. He followed the footman’s
direction to the ballroom, his lips curving upon hearing
Elizabeth’s and Bingley’s merry laughter from within.
He stood on the threshold of the room, observing the
easy familial affection between his best friend and his
wife. Bingley was attempting to lead Elizabeth in a waltz
as both laughed at their missteps. He caught the profile
of Miss Bingley bending over the keys of the pianoforte,
pursing her lips in evident disapproval of so much fri-
volity. After a few more subsequent attempts, their steps
began to synchronize as the couple smiled in satisfaction,
twirling their way through the ballroom. When the final
chord sounded, Darcy stepped into the room, making his
bows. “Charming, Mrs. Darcy,” he remarked politely with
a smile.
“That’s a fine compliment to Lizzy, but what about
me? He never says I am charming,” Bingley remarked to
Elizabeth as she laughed.
“I am sure the party is well aware of your charms,
Bingley,” Darcy replied sardonically.
“Mr. Bingley tells me there will be a waltz at the ball to-
morrow. He kindly offered to teach me the dance so I will
not disgrace his ballroom,” Elizabeth remarked cheerfully.
“I do not understand why you bother, Charles. How many
people here will even know the waltz. I am sure some find
the minuet progressive,” Miss Bingley sniffed as she gathered
her music. Darcy was unsure whether to be affronted for
Elizabeth’s sake by Miss Bingley’s commentary or amused
at her snobbery. Glancing at Elizabeth and catching her ex-
pressive smile, he bit his lip to keep from smiling himself.
Charles rolled his eyes before good naturedly replying,
“I want to waltz with my beautiful bride at our engagement
ball, and I do not care if anyone else dances or if they are
even present.”
Miss Bingley had become a source of vexation to Darcy
since his arrival two days before. He had felt a mixture
of amusement and vexation at the lack of solitary time
with Elizabeth due to Miss Bingley’s machinations. Miss
Bingley seemed determined to pay Darcy every attention,
as much as she had before his marriage.
Despite her lack of literary interests, she had interrupt-
ed the couple’s time spent at Netherfield’s library on both
mornings they had met. She had engaged him in conversa-
tion at every opportunity, even sitting next to him after
dinner the prior evening. He could not keep from feeling
a degree of amusement, although nothing approaching
Elizabeth’s obvious mirth, but her attentions did make
him uncomfortable. He found himself sitting a little clos-
party.
Miss Bingley had ascertained Darcy’s obvious displea-
sure in London, and determined to pay every civility to
Mrs. Darcy. She knew it would be very disadvantageous
to lose the important connection of the Darcys, especially
when her brother would marry Jane Bennet despite her
best efforts to the contrary. No, I must display a veneer of
civility for Eliza Darcy, despite the impertinent independence
and unsuitability of the new Mrs. Darcy.
To her utter astonishment and disapproval, Mrs. Darcy
seemed mostly unaffected by her new status. Her gowns,
while of the highest quality and much more flattering than
Miss Bingley would like, had a shocking lack of embellish-
ment. She now has the finest items money could buy at her
disposal, a grand townhouse and a magnificent estate, and yet
Mrs. Darcy seems rather unimpressed by it all. Such country
indiff erence to station and fashion.
Caroline Bingley had observed the manner in which
Mrs. Darcy spoke to her husband. Certainly, Mr. Darcy
remained her ideal of a proper gentleman, as Miss
Bingley glanced scornfully at his brother, obviously be-
sotted with Jane Bennet. But it hadn’t escaped Caroline’s
notice that Mr. Darcy seemed content with his bride,
and possibly happy. Mrs. Darcy was every bit as teasing
and impertinent as she had ever been, and Mr. Darcy
seemed to enjoy her shocking manner, perhaps even
more than he had when they had last been together at
Netherfield. I cannot comprehend what Mr. Darcy finds so
appealing in her.
Eliza Darcy has improved her playing and singing, no
doubt due to Georgiana, she admitted grudgingly as she
shot the girl an appreciative glance, but she is far from truly
accomplished, certainly nothing in comparison with me. She
is not beautiful, nor fashionable, nor elegant, yet Mr. Darcy
seems oblivious to her faults. Her eyes narrowed. Eliza Darcy
is intolerable!
43

 they toyed with the ties of her robe.
The evening passed away tranquilly enough and
Elizabeth sat in front of the fire in her chambers. She was
surprised to hear a knock coming from Darcy’s room and
even more shocked when he entered in his nightshirt and
robe. She felt her cheeks flush at his informal attire, a sight
she hadn’t beheld since those horrible January nights at
Georgiana’s bedside. So caught up in fear and grief, she
had scarcely taken notice, but now her full attention was
riveted upon his frame.
The sight of his bare neck and part of his chest was an
arresting sight, but the breadth of his shoulders, accentuat-
ed by his emerald green and gold striped robe nearly stole
her breath. The flush of her cheeks crawled down her neck
once she realized she had gazed the length of his figure
and he had surely observed her perusal. She did not dare
lift her gaze to his eyes but thought she heard a deep, al-
most choked, sound to his voice when he spoke. “Since we
have been repeatedly interrupted in the library, I thought I
should bring your books to you now.”
“Thank you,” she replied quietly as she perused the stack
of books he laid on the table beside her, setting aside any
foreign titles. “I doubt I shall be in a mood for any foreign
languages for awhile.”
She glanced up when she heard his rich, soft laugh.
“Miss Bingley did insert more than one French phrase to-
night, did she not?”
“Indeed she did. I suppose it would disappoint her great-
ly to learn that I do have some knowledge of the language.
I hate to disabuse her of her dearest notions,” Elizabeth
replied archly.
Darcy sat next to Elizabeth on the sofa and sighed. “She
has been dreadful. I thought marriage would cure her of
her attentions.”
“No doubt her attentions would have ceased, if you had
married her.”
He turned toward Elizabeth, reaching out to softly
stroke her arm. The white linen of her gown gave her an
etheral appearance as the light from the fire cast its glow
upon her. He could barely whisper, “To my own happiness
and contentment, I did not.”
Later, he could not recall what precisely had happened.
His next memory was of their lips tangling, although he
did not know which of them had initiated it. When the
pleasures of her lips were no longer enough and the in-
sistent need to be closer to her coursed through him, he
pulled her into his lap. He remembered the unbelievable
sensation of her delicate fingers raking through his hair,
her fingernails lightly scraping his scalp. The sensation
was quickly supplanted when she pressed herself sharply
against him, her soft moan shuddering through him. His
44
fingers became acutely sensitive and slightly unsteady as
Elizabeth suddenly broke away, gasping for air. “Do you
hear a knock?” He looked at her in confusion and then he
heard a light knock on her door.
“Who would be knocking at this time of night?” Darcy
asked in disbelief.
“Miss Bingley no doubt,” Elizabeth replied with a laugh
as she rose from the sofa to answer the door, pausing for a
second as they both hoped to regain their composure.
He almost expected it would be Miss Bingley, but to his
surprise, it was Georgiana. “Elizabeth, I am so glad you are
still awake. I had another nightmare.” Georgiana stepped
into the room and saw her brother sitting there. “Oh! I am
interrupting…something.”
All three of them blushed furiously as an air of awk-
wardness settled over the room until Elizabeth remarked
lightly, “We were discussing books. Please, come in.”
Georgiana sat in one of the chairs, still looking morti-
fied. “Georgiana,” Elizabeth inquired, “have your night-
mares returned?”
The blush in Georgiana’s cheeks receded somewhat as
she replied, “I have not had a nightmare for three weeks,
until tonight.”
At last regaining some composure, Darcy remarked, “I
am sorry to hear you have had another nightmare, dearest.
Why do I not read to you both and you try to relax?”
Soon, his deep, sedate tones reverberated in the room.
He smiled when he felt Elizabeth’s head grow heavy on his
arm. “Elizabeth is asleep, brother.”
“Very soundly if the numbness in my arm is any indica-
tion,” he replied as he glanced down affectionately at the
blond curls gathered around his shoulder. “How are you,
Georgiana? Do you think you can return to your cham-
bers?”
Georgiana smiled timidly before answering, “Yes, I be-
lieve so. I am sorry for interrupting earlier.”
“Georgiana,” Darcy stated firmly. “You must never feel
you are a bother to me, and Elizabeth is nearly as fond of
you as I am.”
Her smile grew as she stood up and kissed her brother
on the cheek. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam. Goodnight.”
He shifted his left arm to support Elizabeth’s neck and
rose from the sofa. Picking her up, he gently placed her
upon the mattress, pulling the covers up around her. He
leaned down and kissed her lips, only to hear her murmur,
“Fitzwilliam.”
“Shhh,” he whispered as he stroked her sleeve softly.
“Rest well, my love.” She shifted and snuggled deeper into
the bed before a contented smile overtook her features. He
went to the door, back into his own chambers, wearing a
contented smile of his own.

Chapter 16
C
aroline Bingley was determined to make her finale
as her brother’s hostess an affair never forgotten.
The ballroom was filled with beeswax candles,
whose shadowy light illuminated the theatre
chandeliers throughout the ballroom. The tall brass cande-
labras, trimmed with gauzy white ribbons, added another
layer of soft illumination throughout the room. Combined
with the highly skilled orchestra and generous supper ar-
rangements, she felt the triumph of success.
Later, Darcy would not recall the beautiful setting, nor
the skilled orchestra or what he ate for supper, as he spent
most of the evening trying not to appear moonstruck at
the vision of his wife floating gracefully about the ball-
room. He mingled among the guests, waiting for the last
waltz, confident he could retain his composure for one
final dance at the close of the evening. He attempted to
pay proper attention to the conversations around him but
could not resist keeping Elizabeth within his line of vision.
Darcy eventually turned to his sister, slightly guilty at his
neglect, noticing her pensive smile.
Georgiana wanted to attend the ball; and, being a pri-
vate ball, he had agreed. She didn’t appear wholly comfort-
able to his well-trained eye, and he partially understood
her reasons. He had never been fond of social occasions
himself, but she looked elegant, composed and beautiful,
and her willingness to attend filled him with pride. When
he compared her to the girl he saw that horrible August
day in the stews of London, he felt a sense of relief wash
over him.
Observing her biting her lip, Darcy asked, “Is some-
thing amiss, Georgiana?”
“Oh no, brother,” she replied quickly. “I was observing
Elizabeth with her family. She exudes such a sense of vital-
ity and charm.”
“Yes, she certainly does,” Darcy said warmly, watching
Elizabeth’s expressive smile toward Jane, no doubt amused
by Mrs. Bennet’s conversation.
 than public ones But now we may be silent.”
Everything about his wife weaved its web of enchant-
ment upon him all evening, from the intoxicating scent
of her perfume to her extremely flattering ballgown. He
had long thought her handsome, but as she rustled about
the room in her silk gown in the most becoming shade of
pale yellow, he thought she had never looked more beauti-
ful. Her bright, merry presence created an almost tangible
sense of longing within him.
Darcy approached his wife with a bow. “The time is at
hand, Mrs. Darcy. May I secure the last dance this eve-
ning?”
Elizabeth smiled archly at him. “You are aware the last
dance is a waltz. I would not wish to offend your sensibili-
ties.”
He looked at her for a long moment, watching the teas-
ing light in her eyes, and drew a slightly unsteady breath,
before responding intently, “I am not offended in the least.
What say you?”
The teasing light in her eyes shifted slightly as she held
out her hand with a soft smile. “I happily accept, Mr.
Darcy.”
A waltz filled the air as the final dance commenced. The
couple danced beautifully, to Elizabeth’s relief, as Darcy
easily led her through the steps and Elizabeth confidently
followed. She twirled around the floor with him, wholly
captivated, as the intimacy of the dance tossed its cloak of
privacy around them. Darcy’s carriage was formally correct
and his expression neutral, but his green eyes, normally so
coolly composed, were glowing with warm currents as he
looked upon her.
Elizabeth felt herself blush, over and again, under his
scrutiny. She looked upon him, so remarkably handsome
in his formal black attire and contrasting white shirt and
cravat. His light brown hair held perfectly in place as a mi-
nuscule smile tugged the corner of his lips. She narrowed
her eyes at the evidence of his awareness of his effect on
her.
“The waltz is a very engaging dance,” Elizabeth said in a
valiant attempt to breach the silence and cool her flushing
cheeks.
“Indeed,” he replied with an unwavering gaze. He twirled
her again on the floor, slightly tightening the pressure on
her gloved hand.
“It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy I talk-
ed about the dance, and you ought to make some kind of
remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples.”
He smiled, his deep tone shuddering through her. “Tell
me what you wish me to say and I shall say it.”
Elizabeth shivered slightly at his comment, increasing
the grip on his shoulder as his hand twitched on her waist.
“Very well That reply will do for the present Perhaps by and
by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter
“Do you talk by rule then, while you are dancing?”
“Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would
look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and
yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be
so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as
little as possible.” Elizabeth smiled impertinently.
“Are you consulting your own feelings in the present
case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?” She
felt her heart race as his gloved hand fluttered at her waist,
almost a caress.
45
 “Both,” replied Elizabeth archly; “for I have always seen
a great similarity in the turn of our minds We are each of
an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, un-
less we expect to say something that will amaze the whole
room, and be handed down to posterity with all the éclat
of a proverb.”
“This is no very striking resemblance of your own char-
acter, I am sure,” said he with a slight smile. “How near
it may be to mine, I cannot pretend to say. You think it
a faithful portrait undoubtedly.” He tightened his grip on
her waist and lowered his voice. “With the exception of
your exclusive company, I do admit to feeling rather unso-
ciable this evening.”
“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, her soft voice ringing loud-
ly in his ears. “I feel the same.”
Darcy wondered if he had overestimated his composure
when the dance began and her soft form was encased so
fittingly into his arms. He observed the reminders of her
belonging to him, as surely as he was indissolubly bound
to her. The engagement and wedding rings worn over her
gloves and his mother’s sapphire pendant gleaming on her
throat seemed sensual beacons as he tightened his grip on
her hand. But the sight of the diamond combs, accentuat-
ing the elegant hairstyle he so desperately wished to run
his fingers through, made his heart beat painfully.
More potent yet was the expression contained in her beau-
tiful eyes, reflecting the same starstruck expression he imag-
ined in his own. He allowed his feelings to flow through
him, their location his only restraint, for the present. He was
no longer afraid or unnerved by the knot of love, desire and
affection he felt for her nor were any schemes in his path.
This dance shall soon end and we will retire. If I want, no,
if she wishes it, we can retire together. Looking into her eyes,
he saw every favorable inclination she did.
 sion, and soon we will… At that moment, he surreptitiously
Wondering if he knew what he was about, Darcy es-
corted Elizabeth to their chambers after they had bade
goodnight to his sister. He felt unbelievably nervous, con-
sidering how much desire coursed through his veins. How
do I ask? What if she says no? What if she says yes?
Apparently, Elizabeth observed his distraction, when she
asked, “Fitzwilliam, what troubles you?”
“Nothing,” he replied shortly, cursing his stupidity and
awkwardness. He continued breathlessly, “Elizabeth…do
you mind if I come to your chambers and seek…your
company?”
“My company?” Elizabeth blinked, slightly confused as
her mind whirled.
He turned to face her in front of her chamber doors. He
looked to the floor, exasperated at his clumsiness. “I…um…
Elizabeth, if you do not wish it, please tell me.”
46
She glanced up at him, feeling a rush of affection at his
earnest expression and flushing face as she comprehend-
ed his meaning, and the blood rushed to her own cheeks.
“Fitzwilliam, are you asking to…to lie with me, as my hus-
band?”
“Yes,” he said emphatically before adding breathlessly, “if
you wish it.”
She slid her hands around his neck, leaning toward
his lips before replying, “I do wish it. Very much.” He
wrapped an arm securely around her waist, marveling at
how tiny she was.
Shaking the stray thought, he bent his head to meet hers,
gently entangling their lips. Her lips parted beneath his
own and the kiss deepened until both broke away, gasping
for air. Darcy stepped back with a low, deep laugh, open-
ing her chamber door for her as he followed.

Darcy closed the door to his wife’s chamber firmly,
carefully turning the lock, as silence enveloped the room.
He shed his coat and gloves, then turned toward Elizabeth
and smiled slightly uneasily, noticing a look of discomfort
cross her face. Taking a steadying breath and eager for a
task, he went to the hearth and rekindled the diminished
fire, stroking it until it blazed brightly. He wondered if all
couples felt this nervous, this awkward at such a time. He
usually relied on Elizabeth to cover over any social awk-
wardness, but she seemed as bewildered in these unchar-
tered waters as himself.
While attending the fire, he glanced around her cham-
bers, a sense of wonder washing over him. He had entered
her room before, but never like this, and it appeared very
different to him now. I am in her room, with her permis-
glanced toward Elizabeth, who remained slightly uneasy.
Having finished his task, he walked back toward
Elizabeth, determined to steady her nerves as well as his
own. Reaching out to tenderly stroke her cheek, he was
relieved to see her smile. “Elizabeth,” he asked softly, “are
you nervous?”
“No,” she said confidently, closing her eyes and leaning
into his touch. He laughed quietly, shaking his head at
how she defied his expectations at times.
She opened her eyes and smiled. “I have to think an…
act…spoken of so joyfully in novels and poems is a plea-
sure to be embraced, not feared.”
He continued to stroke her cheek affectionately as the
humor crept into his tone. “You are quite right, my darling.
I always knew extensive reading an important accomplish-
ment in a woman, but never so much as now.”
His tone turned more serious as he gently gripped her
slender arms. “Elizabeth, we have always been forthright
with one another, even when the subjects were unpleasant, “Elizabeth,” he said, forcing himself to retreat slightly.
but tonight, honesty is essential. If you are uncomfortable “Is your maid expecting to attend you?”
or if you change your mind, I want you to say so.” “No,” she whispered, stroking lightly down Darcy’s
“I shall,” she said seriously, before adding, “I confess to a arms.
little nervousness, not of you, but due to a lack of experi- She suddenly looked away, needing to talk, although
ence.” she didn’t quite understand why. “I told her I would not
He pulled her into his arms, slowly stroking her back ring unless I was unable to manage due to the lateness of
with one hand as the other toyed with the curls on her the hour. She has been unwell and I wanted her to rest,”
neck. “I confess to some nervousness myself, but we need Elizabeth babbled, while cursing her rambling tongue.
not rush. We have all night at our disposal.” He felt a hot He smiled in appreciation. “You are remarkably kind.”
joy sweep through him when she rested her head trust- “I am afraid you mistake me for some angelic creature.”
ingly against him and sighed, wrapping her arms around He lifted her chin with one hand as the other continued
his waist. its exploration of her hair. His gaze was so intense and so
After a moment she pulled back, her smile turning sen- earnest, she could barely meet his eye. “I think not. I am
sual as she began unbuttoning his waistcoat. She heard his unlikely to confuse you with anyone.”
sharp intake of breath and lifted her eyes, catching the She smiled and blushed. “Well, I hope you are prepared
fierce expression of obvious approval on his features, be- to assist me, Fitzwilliam, with the buttons of my gown.”
fore she said softly, “My dear, I anticipate becoming truly She turned around and was hardly surprised to feel his fin-
accomplished.” gers tremble, considering the tremors of her own.
She was surprised, but far from displeased, when She felt another bout of awkwardness, suddenly aware
he pulled her tightly against him, trailing a path of hot of how different she would feel after tonight, and how
kisses down her neck. “Dearest Elizabeth…Elizabeth… strange it seemed for him to undress her. Caught in her
Elizabeth…Elizabeth…” he breathed in a passionate tone reflections, she was startled to hear him chuckle. “What is
Elizabeth had never heard as she shuddered. She closed it, Fitzwilliam?”
her eyes and slipped her arms under his coat, reveling in “I never knew what an arduous task it was to be an abi-
the sensation of touching the muscles of his back, the con- gail,” he said ruefully as he struggled with the buttons. She
strained power under her fingertips. laughed, her tension disappated.
When she felt his kisses reach the neckline of her gown, He will be the same complicated, kind, reserved, endearing
she opened her eyes abruptly, looking upon his bent head. man in the morning. Between kisses and caresses, giggles
She lifted her arms, which seemed oddly heavy, and raked and laughs, they gradually revealed each part of themselves
her fingers through his hair, reveling in his appreciative to the other, to the ultimate satisfaction of both.
moan. She felt suddenly unsteady and Darcy must have
sensed it, as he straightened up in concern. “Is anything
the matter, dearest?”
“No,” she whispered, tugging on his hand as she sat
upon the bed. She glanced up at him, his light brown hair
tousled and a light in his eyes she had never seen. Her lips
curved, causing another wonderful flare in his eyes. I did
this to him. He is undone because of me.
She could not restrain her laugh, and he soon joined her
with a low laugh of his own, his eyes shining in apprecia-
tion as he looked upon her. “You are so very beautiful, my
darling, and you seem well aware of your affect on me.” He
finally gave into the impulse he had restrained all evening,
carefully plucking the hairpins from her hair, smiling at
her pleased whimper, while he marveled in the sensation of
her silky golden locks flowing freely through his fingers.
“I noticed your admiration,” she said unsteadily as his
fingers touched her scalp. Trying to regain some control,
she smiled archly. “I suppose I am handsome enough to
tempt you?”
“You are infinitely tempting,” he murmured before de-
scending upon her lips again. He began to finger her neck-
line, doubting he had ever felt any sensation as wonderful
as her soft, smooth skin gliding under his fingertips.
47

Chapter 17
M
r. Bennet recalled exactly when it
had begun, when he had totally
disconnected himself from his life.
He had long preferred the solitude
of his library and the comfort of his books to his wife’s
company, but never so much as when Mr. Jones visited
him the night of the assembly in Meryton. He had been
feeling slightly ill; and, when his cough worsened, he de-
cided a brief visit from the apothecary, without his wife’s
knowledge and subsequent lamentations, was in order.
The apothecary was not concerned at first, but when Mr.
Bennet called him again, this time the night of the party
at Lucas Lodge, he looked solemn.
“Mr. Bennet, your heart is weak. It is worse than it was at
my last visit.”
“Surely there is some brew or potion you can conjure up for
me, good man.”
“No, sir, there is not.”
“How long before my demise, Mr. Jones? Pray, state it plain-
ly.”
“I am uncertain, sir. I prescribe a regimen of quiet and
rest.”
“Quiet and rest at Longbourn? The end is closer than you
think.”
Acerbic wit aside, when Mr. Bennet took stock of his
life, he was little pleased with the results. Beyond his
wife’s dowry of five thousand pounds, there was no sav-
ings. He could not even imagine how a sensible woman
could live with five daughters on such a meager sum, and
Mrs. Bennet was anything but sensible. He spent weeks
worrying about what would become of his family when he
departed.
He knew Mr. Collins was a wholly unsuitable husband
for his spirited, lively, Lizzy, but he felt he had no choice.
He summoned her to the library, sternly urging her to re-
consider, though it broke his heart to see the disappoint-
ment and anger in her eyes, and know it was directed at
him. He could scarcely imagine a worse fate for his be-
loved daughter, except perhaps being penniless and home-
less. How he had wanted to confess his condition!
But he decided he could not be so cruelly selfish and
must face his burden alone. His wife would plague his
heart out with her flutterings, and he could not bear to
see the sadness on Jane’s and Lizzy’s faces as they watched
and worried over him. He had rested as much as he possi-
bly could and let Mrs. Bennet spend an exorbitant amount
on Jane’s trousseau, knowing it was likely one of the last
things he would be able to do for her.
He was determined he would live, at least long enough
to see Jane marry. With Lizzy married to Mr. Darcy and
48
Jane’s marriage, he felt some comfort in his situation, al-
though his favorite’s marriage remained a source of some
discomfort. However, in one more week, Jane would mar-
ry Mr. Bingley and he could let go, knowing his two most
sensible and deserving daughters had a chance for happi-
ness.

Caroline Bingley gleefully related the scene she had
witnessed outside Elizabeth’s chambers to her sister during
breakfast the next morning. She had gone to Mrs. Darcy’s
chambers after the ball, to inform Elizabeth that breakfast
would be served two hours later due to the late hour of the
ball, to find Mr. and Mrs. Darcy scandalously embracing.
“Really, Caroline,” Louisa Hurst scoffed in a superior
tone before coolly sipping her coffee. “That’s hardly news,
nothing in comparison to the intrigues of town.”
“But they are married, Louisa! It is shocking for them to
embrace in a public hallway.”
“It is nothing of the sort,” her sister replied dismissive-
ly, buttering her toast. “They were hardly embracing in a
public hallway. It was one in the morning.” She delicate-
ly arched an eyebrow at her sister. “They could not have
known any of us would wander from the family wing.”
“I was only trying to be of assistance,” Caroline replied
glumly. “I wanted to inform them of the later hour planned
for breakfast, not that they have appeared downstairs yet.
Poor Georgiana.”
Louisa looked at her sister for a long moment before
adding more gently, “I know Darcy’s marriage is a source
of disappointment and embarrassment for you, but your
resentment will only hurt you.”
Seeing Caroline about to protest, she continued, “Do
not deny it. Most of the ladies in London know you had
set your cap at him. I wish you had secured him myself,
but Elizabeth Darcy is his wife and there is nothing to be
done for it.”
Louisa sighed at her assessment of her sister’s continuing
acrimony. “If you recall, we liked her well enough before
we perceived Darcy’s interest. She is agreeable company, if
somewhat unfashionable.”
She turned a piercing glare at her younger sister. “With
Charles’s marriage, any gossip about the Darcys will do
us no favors. I am not thrilled with the marriage, mind
you; Charles could have done better, but Jane is a remark-
ably sweet creature who does not deserve your treachery.
Neither will the gossip reflect well on us, since we will be
connected to the Darcys ourselves. I hope you remember
that.”
Caroline tossed her head indignantly. “I am too well-
bred to spread such a tale, but I still think it is shocking,”
she mumbled before pouring another cup of tea.

 well, dearest. No one will think ill of us for sleeping in
Elizabeth stretched and yawned, waking from the
most delightful sleep she had ever experienced. She col-
ored slightly as images of the early morning flashed before
her, but she had no regrets. There had been moments when
she had felt uncomfortable and awkward, and she had seen
similar emotions flicker on Darcy’s face, but the friendship,
honesty, and trust had overcome those obstacles, as surely
as trembling fingers had made the multitudes of buttons
and knots give way.
She would never forget the look on his countenance,
full of desire and affection, nor the sensation of his warm
embrace as he murmured hot words of sensual praise into
her ear. She sighed at the memories of his passionate kisses
trailing upon her skin, and she would never fail to remem-
ber the lack of restraint in his voice as he cried out her
name. The pain she had endured, although she was very
glad it would not be repeated, had been well worth the
cost. The pain had passed, and the pleasure of joining with
him soon succeeded it as she experienced a joy and satis-
faction, also reflected on her husband’s face, so very pre-
cious to her heart.
She laughed quietly, recalling her mother’s advice. I
managed Fitzwilliam very well indeed. When she remem-
bered the gentle kindness he had displayed, the unremit-
ting concern for her comfort and happiness, she could only
add, He managed me quite admirably as well, and another
delighted laugh bubbled forth. Her amorous memories
were sharply interrupted when the sun poured through the
curtains, signaling the lateness of the hour.
Horrified, she lightly shook her sleeping husband,
“Fitzwilliam, wake up.” She took a moment, although feel-
ing she had few to spare, to appreciate his handsome face
as he slowly became cognizant of his whereabouts and a
delighted smile crossed his lips. She colored lightly, acutely
aware of the way he looked upon her in a slightly different
manner, as if he had new knowledge of all her secrets.
“Good morning, my darling,” Darcy greeted in a gravelly
voice, impaired with sleep, before pulling her toward him.
Touching her fingers softly to the stubble on his cheek, she
eagerly pressed her lips to his, precious memories assault-
ing her as she touched his lips once more. Her reasons for
waking him flooded into her as she pulled away with a
small gasp.
“We must rise, Fitzwilliam. Look at how late the hour
is. What will Georgiana, not to mention the Bingleys and
Hursts think of us?” She suddenly looked onto the floor,
her eyes widening in horror at the array of clothes haphaz-
ardly scattered about. “What will the servants think? Our
clothes are hopelessly wrinkled.”
“I am certain they bear more scars than wrinkles,” he
said with a mischievous chuckle. Seeing her genuine dis-
tress, he pulled her back into his arms. “Elizabeth, all is
after a ball. I do believe we compensate the servants ad-
equately and treat them well enough to trust them not to
spread tales, if they were to suspect our activity.”
“I am surprised you are so dismissive, Fitzwilliam. You
are always so discreet,” Elizabeth replied as she began to
relax in his arms, feeling missish.
“I am discreet in public, Elizabeth. I have no desire to
subject you or myself to impertinence, but we are in pri-
vate, my love.” He grinned at her, the mischief returning
to his face. “When you are married, you should not worry
about loving your own wife in your own rooms.”
Elizabeth was pleased at his light, cheerful tone. She
snuggled deeper into the crook of his arm, smiling against
the skin of his chest before resting her cheek upon it. “You
sound very well pleased with yourself this morning, my
dear.”
“On the contrary, I am very well pleased with you.” He
gently touched her chin, inclining her head to meet his
eyes, his gaze and tone warm and serious. “And you? Are
you pleased?”
Elizabeth broke out into a cheerful smile, growing
even brighter as it reflected back on Darcy’s face. “I am,
Fitzwilliam. I do believe we are the happiest couple in the
world.” He tightened his grip upon her in appreciation of
her sentiments, dropping a dreamy kiss onto the crown of
her head.
He wondered if it had been a dream, the most delight-
ful kind, from which he would soon awaken. It had all
seemed so very magical at times. He chuckled silently, re-
calling a few moments of awkwardness and uncertainty, as
he struggled with a bewildering array of buttons and fas-
teners, feeling so very clumsy.
But the starry look of wonder in Elizabeth’s beautiful
eyes when he fell into her embrace, both gloriously na-
ked, had certainly been dreamlike. He could not imagine
a dream as thrilling as her voice, whispering his name in
desire as her delightful curves pressed against him. Her
sweet kisses had certainly been dreamy as her lips branded
his skin, but the manner in which she boldly touched him,
wrapping him in her embrace, was too marvelous for any
dream. And the feeling of her silky thighs under his hands,
a moment before the most moving experience of his life
was beyond any dream he had ever had.
He sighed as the sun invaded their chambers. They must
rise, ring for the servants and face another day of continual
company, little of it very pleasing. He would have to put
aside his dreams, for now.

49
Georgiana sat at the breakfast table, slowly stirring but he was happier and more content than she had seen
her tea with a heavy silver spoon. She bit back a smile of him in years. If she interpreted the actions of the last few
amusement at the sight of the best china and silver being days correctly, one day there would be children again at
laid out for a simple breakfast. Elizabeth will enjoy this, she Pemberley.
thought with a tender smile of affection for her sister, al- She could imagine little nieces and nephews toddling
ways ready to laugh at the silliness of others. along at Pemberley, under the serious protection of her
Georgiana had been slightly in awe of her sister last brother and the sweet warmth of her sister. And I am deter-
night, having had few opportunities to observe Elizabeth mined to be the most loving aunt in the kingdom, Georgiana
in a crowd. Elizabeth seemed to instinctively charm and thought fondly. She thought the future, while not perfect,
delight most everyone, an ability that made Georgiana certainly looked bright.
slightly envious. Georgiana had been further stunned to
see how her sister had managed to distract Darcy. Those
who didn’t know her brother well would never discern it,
but Georgiana had perceived how affected he had been by
her.
For Georgiana, the ball had turned out better than ex-
pected. Her brother assured her she need not dance and she
had spent her evening quietly conversing with some of the
calmer personalities in the neighborhood. She eventually
overcame some of the unsettling feelings of awkwardness;
and, while she could not say she had enjoyed herself, she
had been satisfied with the evening. Her thoughts turned
toward finishing the screen she was making as a wedding
gift for Mr. and Mrs. Bingley as a feeling of contentment
settled over her.
Darcy and Elizabeth entered the room, mumbling their
good mornings and offering apologies as they hurriedly
took their respective seats. Georgiana felt slightly off bal-
ance as she secretly glanced at the party. Mr. Bingley and
Mr. Hurst appeared rather unaffected, but Mrs. Hurst shot
a warning glance at Miss Bingley, whose lips were drawn
into a pucker.
Even more amazing was the silent exchange between
Darcy and Elizabeth. She noticed her brother glance at his
wife a few times during the meal to be met with a blush
and a smile from Elizabeth. I cannot imagine what has
come over those two, she mused. She exited the room with
the others, before remembering to ask her brother about a
trip into Meryton for some paints for her project.
She went back to the room, stunned when she found her
ever proper, reserved brother leaning over to kiss Elizabeth
on the cheek in the public breakfast room. The servants
were gone and the rest of the party had finished breakfast,
but she remained shocked at his actions. She felt as if she
had thoroughly breached their privacy when she caught
the look in his eyes as he looked upon Elizabeth.
Oh my. Now I know why they were so tardy this morn-
ing. She quickly exited back into the hallway, leaning upon
the wall, before letting out a small giggle. Another wave of
contentment and peace washed over her at further proof of
her brother’s happiness.
She never guessed when Darcy told her he was to marry
that he would find a woman like Elizabeth. She thought
the circumstances necessitating his marriage would make
him miserable, and thereby add to her own unhappiness,
50

Chapter 18
T
he day before the wedding finally came. Darcy
stayed at Netherfield while Elizabeth and
Georgiana braved the trip to Longbourn to assist
in the final preparations for the wedding break-
fast. Bingley’s enthusiasm was nearly beyond containment,
much to Darcy’s amusement.
“Darcy, what say you to a hunting party? I could use
some good sport,” Bingley said cheerfully after breakfast.
“I dare not go near you with a loaded rifle,” Darcy
smirked. “In your enthusiasm, you might mistake me for
a deer.”
Bingley laughed jovially. “We certainly cannot have an
accident today. Lizzy certainly would not thank me for it.
Did you ever think six months ago, that everything would
end in this joyful manner? We are to be brothers, Darcy,
and married to two of the best women in England.”
“There are many things I could not imagine occurring
six months ago,” Darcy remarked quietly.
“Leasing Netherfield did change our lives forever, did it
not?” Bingley paused for a moment, before venturing, “I
never asked what ailed you when you accompanied me to
Hertfordshire, but I am relieved to see your recovery, and
Miss Darcy is looking well. Since your return, Jane and I
have discussed how much marriage appears to agree with
you and Lizzy. Both of you seem very content with your
situation. Jane says Lizzy has never appeared so genuinely
happy.”
Darcy smiled slightly as he considered the unaffected
amiability and loyalty of his friend. “You have been a good
friend to me, Bingley. Elizabeth and I are happy, and I
hope for the same felicity for you and Jane.”
 upon his lips.
The night after the ball, Darcy had determined to wait
a day or two before approaching Elizabeth again, but his
wife had other ideas. To his shock and utter delight, she
had knocked on his door, a sweet, impish smile on her
face, informing him of her desire for his company. As they
drifted to sleep much later, warm and satiated, she con-
fessed wishing to sleep in his arms each night and he had
no intention of denying such a request, so well suited to
his own wishes.
A mischievous smirk twisted his lips, when he considered
how diligently he and his wife had practiced since the en-
gagement ball. With more ease and familiarity, each night
the experience had been less restrained and more passion-
ate. And the few nights when they were too exhausted for
anything but sleep, he had enjoyed succumbing to slumber
with Elizabeth’s steady breath floating across his chest.
He looked down at the crown of his wife’s head and his
smile turned tender as he beheld her form nestled com-
fortably in his arms. Darcy reverentially stroked the blond
curls, careful not to wake her as he stared at her in adora-
tion. He had known, well before he offered for her, that she
did not belong in Hertfordshire. While he had taken her
criticisms to heart and had refrained from displaying open
disdain for the people in the vicinity, he knew Elizabeth
had little business there.
Many of the people are a good sort but she is something
more. She deserved a wider environment, conducive to de-
veloping her agile mind and talents, and she never could have
found it here. She deserved to be Mistress of Pemberley, and
we can all only benefit from her generosity and kindness. He
was proud, immensely so, to have these advantages to offer
her, as he had received the greatest benefit.
She had given him a renewed sense of purpose and a
pervading sense of happiness. He had long been aware
of the world and proud of his place in it. He had suc-
cessfully managed Pemberley to benefit his heirs and de-
pendents, but now, he also did so for her. The thought of
working for her benefit and for the benefit of their chil-
dren, another part of her, drove him. He wanted to be a
better man, certainly for himself, but also to please and
benefit her.
The disadvantages of compensating for her lack of dow-
ry and the company of her less sensible relations meant
very little in return for her affection and companionship.
He knew she did not feel all he felt for her, but he was
satisfied, though he hoped her deeper affections could yet
be his. His wife was happy, safe and content, and where
she belonged, with him. He looked down and sighed with
contentment as he observed her slender arm gripping his
waist and her beautiful, toned leg draped over his own.
“I love you, Elizabeth.” After whispering the overflowing
sentiment of his heart, he soon fell asleep, a joyful smile

Mr. Bennet walked down the hall, to the drawing
room, surprised to hear voices. He had thought the family
had gone to cards and supper at the Phillipses. “I cannot
think of any other way to explain it,” said a voice whom
Mr. Bennet identified as Mrs. Gardiner’s. “Edward, I am
worried about Lizzy. She did not want to discuss it and I
do not wish to force her confidence, but it makes me won-
der about Mr. Darcy.”
“Perhaps when we visit them at Pemberley, you can speak
more candidly with her. Marianne, I am certain there is a
logical explanation. Mr. Darcy gives every appearance of
51
 an attentive husband and we have seen no indications of
those sorts of habits.”
“Yes, Edward, but what if his appearance is deceptive?
What if he has habits of which we are unaware? You know
how gentlemen in his circle can behave in private. Lizzy
would be devastated if she knew.”
Mr. Bennet decided to make his presence known.
“Edward, Marianne, I think you should tell me what is go-
ing on between Lizzy and Mr. Darcy.”
 feel at ease here. Mr. Bennet would be a good person with
The day of Jane and Bingley’s wedding was cloudy, but
both the bride and groom were radiant, combining the best
traits of youth, beauty and enthusiasm. Elizabeth watched
her sister stand in front of the altar, her angelic serenity
radiating. She thought upon her own marriage at this very
altar. Was it only twelve weeks ago? It seems a lifetime. She
was so caught in recollections, she only heard parts of the
ceremony.
“…for the mutual help and society one provides to the
other…” She glanced quickly at her husband, gravely at-
tending the service, as the words washed over her. They
certainly had provided mutual help and society to each
other, under circumstances she hoped most marriages
would never face. When she recalled the feelings of un-
certainty she felt prior to reciting her vows, she could only
marvel at the change in her life in such a short time. Darcy
had not been an easy man to understand; even now, she at
times failed to understand him.
He remained a quiet man and rather serious, but she,
of all people, knew that under the formal public man-
ners there lurked a man who felt deeply, deeply loved and
deeply loved her. He was not a charming sea captain nor
a handsome foreign prince, but he was something more
than those girlish fantasies could ever be. She had seen
how amiable he truly was, and how much knowledge he
possessed of the world, all of which he was happy to share
with her.
She knew she had received immense benefits from know-
ing him better. Her marriage had been no fairy tale; parts
of it had been frightening, tragic and sad, but in the secu-
rity of his affection and under his protection, she felt the
reality better than any fairy tale. She looked again upon
Darcy as Bingley recited his vows, smiling at him when
Darcy squeezed her hand lightly. Elizabeth felt almost as if
she were seeing her husband for the first time and a feeling
she did not understand flooded her heart.
 “Nothing has been the same between us since I asked
52
MRS. BENNET, DESPITE HER other faults, is an amazing host-
ess, Darcy thought as the wedding breakfast commenced.
He eyed the variety of bread, rolls, ham and eggs while
his stomach growled, reminding him the usual hour of his
breakfast had long passed. He stood at the other end of the
table from Elizabeth’s father, wondering for about the tenth
time, why the older man looked so displeased with him.
He had hardly spoken to Mr. Bennet since he arrived
in Hertfordshire. He still felt rather uncomfortable with
Elizabeth’s family, save for Jane and the Gardiners. I sup-
pose it will take some time and considerable eff ort before I
whom to begin. He encouraged Elizabeth’s natural curiosity
and love for books and Elizabeth speaks fondly of him. Darcy
made his way across the room, only to pause for a moment
when he heard the other man’s racking coughs.
He saw the concern flash in Elizabeth’s eyes and she
took hold of her father’s arm. “Papa! Your cough sounds
very bad. Perhaps we should send for Mr. Jones.”
“You cannot tell him a thing, Lizzy. I have told him for
weeks to see Mr. Jones about that cold. He has become
worse than Kitty,” Mrs. Bennet sniffed.
“As you yourself have reminded us, people do not die
of trifling colds,” Mr. Bennet responded acerbically before
coughing again.
“Lizzy, you must stay longer. There is no need to rush
back to Derbyshire,” Mrs. Bennet said firmly.
“I cannot stay, Mama. I have been away from Pemberley
for too long already,” Elizabeth replied. “Besides,” she con-
tinued with a smile, “I doubt Jane and Bingley would ap-
preciate an extended visit at the moment.”
“They shall not object, I am sure of it. I shall ask them,”
Mrs. Bennet said as she turned around to look for Jane.
“That is not necessary, Mrs. Bennet,” Darcy interjected
when he saw the embarrassment cross his wife’s features.
“My steward sent me a letter today and I really must return
to Pemberley. There are some matters that need my per-
sonal attention.”
“I am sure there are,” Mr. Bennet muttered sarcastically.
“Lizzy, my child, may I speak to you in the library before
you depart?”

Elizabeth followed her father into the library,
stunned to realize she hadn’t entered the room since before
her marriage. She felt the rush of memories of her father
flow over her as she smelled the leather and books in the
air. She turned to her father, only to face his back as he
stared listlessly out of one of the windows.
you to accept Mr. Collins,” Mr. Bennet remarked sadly
when he turned to face her.
 “No, it has not,” she responded quietly. Elizabeth exited the room with a sense of foreboding, as
“I suppose some of it is natural. You are a grown woman she heard her father’s words. “Have a seat, Mr. Darcy. We
now,” he sighed, sinking into his favorite chair. Elizabeth have a few matters we need to discuss before I allow you to
saw his remorse as he stated, “I thought I was acting in leave the country with my daughter.”
your best interests, Lizzy. When Mr. Darcy proposed, I
was relieved you would not be tied to a foolish man, and
now I fear I have made an even greater error.”
Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. “How can that be?
Surely you do not believe Mr. Collins holds any superior-
ity over my husband.”
“I did not think so until I overheard a conversation be-
tween your Aunt and Uncle Gardiner,” he replied uncom-
fortably. “Your aunt was telling your uncle how you had
approached her, wanting to discuss a private affair.”
“Oh!” Elizabeth exclaimed with a blush as she suddenly
became fascinated with the carpet.
“I knew he was a proud and disagreeable man,” Mr.
Bennet stated bitterly, “but I never thought him unprin-
cipled or licentious. How foolish I was! I should have set
aside more money, so I would not have to worry about un-
worthy men marrying my daughters.”
“Papa, pray, do not speak of him in this manner,”
Elizabeth said as the tears began welling in her eyes. “It
pains me to hear you speak so of him.”
“I thought his manner would be nothing, if you really
liked him, but now I will have the misery of knowing you
too will not know a happy union. And it is all my own do-
ing, which is the most bitter pain of all.”
“I do like him, Papa. I love him,” Elizabeth replied tear-
fully before she thought of her words. Love?? She resolved
to think about that later.
“Oh, Lizzy,” he said despairingly. “You must try to keep
up appearances for your own sake, to preserve your re-
spectability, but if you ever need to come home…”
He was unable to finished his sentence as the subject of
their discussion entered the room. Mr. Bennet narrowed his
eyes as Darcy addressed Elizabeth. “The carriage is almost
ready to depart, my dear. There is a minor problem with
one of the horses, but John assures me it will be solved in
half an hour.” Suddenly noticing the tension in the room,
he asked cautiously, “Is anything amiss, Elizabeth?”
Before Elizabeth could answer, Mr. Bennet spoke coldly.
“I need to speak with you, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose slightly at the elder gentleman’s
frosty tone, but replied, “As you wish, sir.”
“Papa, I really do not think now is the time for a conver-
sation,” Elizabeth said fearfully, disturbed by the thoughts
of how the conversation might affect the men most dear to
her in the world.
Darcy looked at Elizabeth in surprise, amazed by her
timid tone and the look of fear upon her face. Upon closer
examination, he thought she might have been crying. He
raised her hand for a kiss before stating firmly, “I would be
happy to speak with your father. Why do you not say your
goodbyes to your mother and sisters while we have a word?”
53

Chapter 19
E
lizabeth left the library and headed outdoors, know-
ing she was unfit for company due to the tumult of
her thoughts. She felt a rush of relief at the fresh air
and sunshine brushing her skin as she tried to make
sense of what had happened. Why did I leave the study? I
should have at least warned Fitzwilliam about Papa’s suspi-
cions… Oh, I must go back in there!
Turning back toward the house, Elizabeth saw her aunt
sitting on the bench. “Lizzy!” Mrs. Gardiner said in sur-
prise. “I was hoping for a private moment with you. Your
father overheard something I said, and I am afraid he was
terribly upset last night.”
“Yes, aunt, he told me,” Elizabeth replied wearily as she
sat heavily upon the bench next to her aunt.
“Oh, Lizzy, please forgive me. Everyone was out of the
house but your father, and he was supposed to be in his
chambers. What must you think of me?” Mrs. Gardiner
said in dismay.
“I wish Papa had not heard you, but I know you have
always wished me well,” Elizabeth said solemnly. “But you
are very mistaken about the situation, Aunt.”
Mrs. Gardiner looked at her niece for a few seconds be-
fore replying, “I am happy to hear it. Your uncle tried to
reassure me, but I fear my condition causes me to jump to
the worst conclusions of late.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Aunt, you mean…?”
“Yes, Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner replied with a smile as she
touched her abdomen.
“While we are speaking of motivations, might I ask what
 would make a father try to force such a lively, spirited,
Darcy cared little for Mr. Bennet’s words or his tone,
but he was determined not to become provoked. Despite
his deficiencies, he is her father. “I never realized a husband
must be granted permission to take his wife home, but I
will gladly listen to you, sir,” Darcy remarked coolly.
“I understand you perfectly,” Mr. Bennet responded
sharply. “I know you may do whatever you wish to my
daughter with impunity, but I will not stand idly by while
you ruin the tranquility of my daughter.”
Darcy noticed how sad the elder man appeared when he
added, in a tone of desperation, “Please, leave Lizzy here
with me. Do not subject my daughter to misery. Simply
because one possesses a right, it does not follow you must
enforce it.”
The elder man began coughing while Darcy sat stunned
and angry in his chair. Darcy said nothing for several mo-
ments, trying to master his temper, before replying calmly,
54
“Whatever my rights in the eyes of the law, I have never
mistreated a woman, and I have no intention of mistreat-
ing my own wife.”
Surely Elizabeth did not confide some unhappiness in her
situation with her father. He shook aside the momentary
doubt before responding firmly, “I know Elizabeth will tell
you, if you ask her, that I have not treated her ill.”
“My poor innocent daughter was most eloquent in her
defense of you. Lizzy thinks she loves you, but cannot love
you, for she does not know you.”
Darcy digested the words in silence for a moment, the
surge of joy tempered by the audacity of the man sitting
before him. He finally said, “Mr. Bennet, you and I are
not well acquainted and I realize the fault is mine. I do not
recommend myself well to new acquaintances, but I take
exception to your notion that Elizabeth does not know me.
She assuredly does know me and probably better than any-
one has in a long time. To be blunt, I do not understand
the basis for this interference in our private affairs.”
“Come now, Darcy, we are both men of the world. Do
not try to tell me you married Lizzy from nothing but
pure, untainted love,” Mr. Bennet scoffed. “I saw your
distracted manner before you married. I did not look for
a reason for your behavior, but I know now I certainly
should have.”
Darcy shifted uncomfortably. “My marriage is an affair
between myself and my wife. She is well acquainted with
my affections.”
“And I am well acquainted with your circle. Is it a mis-
tress captivating you, or do your tastes run in a different
direction entirely?”
“Sir, you accusations are most extraordinary and ill-rea-
soned! I have never had an arrangement of either kind,”
Darcy replied incredulously as the anger firmly took root.
intelligent woman to marry a ridiculous man? And why
would such a father cause her pain by effectively ignoring
her since her marriage only to upset her today with such
unnecessary distress?”
“Ah, so my Lizzy told you about her other proposal. Well,
well, well. If only you had been so open in return. You are
correct that Mr. Collins is a ridiculous man, but he would
have been smart enough to consummate his marriage be-
fore three months passed.”
The color rose on Darcy’s face, but he said nothing. “So
you will understand why I am concerned with my daugh-
ter’s future when she discovers what you are. I thought you
merely a reserved man, unable and unwilling to show ex-
cessive attentions to a fiancée or wife, but it is much, much
worse. You, sir…” he trailed off as he began coughing
again.
Darcy became alarmed as the coughing continued un-
abated. “Sir, you must be unwell. Let me have Mrs. Bennet
call for Mr. Jones.”
 “No, no, it is unnecessary,” the man replied as he contin-
ued coughing. Suddenly, he became short of breath, gasping.
“Mr. Bennet, please lie down,” Darcy said in alarm as he
rang for Hill. When the servant came in, Darcy instructed,
“Hill, fetch Mr. Jones immediately.”
 London? His sister took ill. After we married, she took a
The wedding breakfast was a fortunate distraction to
the rest of the family as Darcy and Elizabeth waited in the
hall while Mr. Bennet was being attended. Elizabeth said
nothing for several minutes, before asking quietly, “What
happened?”
“He became upset while he was questioning me. He
thought…well, suffice it to say, he discovered we had not
consummated our marriage.”
“Yes, I spoke with my aunt.”
“And Mrs. Gardiner thought she should share such infor-
mation?” Darcy asked in a tone indicating more surprise
than resentment.
“My father overheard her discussing the situation with
my uncle. Fitzwilliam, I am sorry.”
Darcy put his arm around her shoulder and pressed a
kiss to her temple. “Never mind, my dear. It was all a sim-
ple misunderstanding.”
“I do not think it was very simple. My father seemed
angry with you.”
“Do not think of it now,” he murmured reassuringly.
“When your father recovers, we shall sort it out.”
 warm and steady on her shoulder.
About twenty minutes later, Elizabeth entered the li-
brary. “How are you feeling, Papa?”
“I am better, my child. I gather you and Mr. Darcy have
not spread the news since your mother is not wailing at
the door.”
“No, Papa. I do not believe you should keep it from your
family if you are ill. Please, Papa, tell me what ails you.”
Mr. Bennet paused for a moment, looking into the con-
cerned eyes of his favorite daughter. “I took ill in October.
Mr. Jones says I have a weak heart.”
He was pained at the tears pooling in Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Now, now, do not succumb to a nervous disposition, my
child. It is nothing to become concerned over. We all have
our frailties.”
“In October?” Elizabeth questioned. “That is why you
wanted me to accept Mr. Collins, is it not?”
He gazed at a far wall before replying, “Yes. I will for-
ever regret such a misjudgment; and, when I think of your
future, I am filled with sorrow.”
Elizabeth clasped her father’s hand gently. “You need
not be. Papa, I am happy. Happier than I could have ever
imagined. Before I married, I was convinced my husband
was an admirable man; but, now that I know him better, I
am convinced he is the very best man I have ever known.”
Seeing her father’s doubts, she continued gently, “You
remember Mr. Darcy leaving before the ball to go to
turn for the worse. She almost died and my husband was
beside himself. That is why I sought advice from my aunt.
I can imagine what you must have thought, but it is not
true. I could have searched a lifetime and not found a bet-
ter husband.”
“I am relieved to hear it. I could not bear to think I had
parted with you to anyone less worthy.”
Elizabeth smiled for a moment before turning serious.
“I will stay here with you until the danger has passed.”
“No, Lizzy, you should go home.”
“Papa, I shall not leave you if you are ill.”
“It is nothing serious, Lizzy. I have to rest and take some
of Mr. Jones’s concoctions, but it is nothing to worry
about.” Seeing she remained unconvinced, “It was a re-
minder of my own mortality and the situation you and
your sisters would face after my death, but I am no worse
off than I was before.”
“Are you certain, Papa?”
He felt a pang of guilt at his deception, but he knew it
was for the best. Her knowing the seriousness of his illness
would not make him better. “I am, Lizzy. Now send your
husband to me so I can humble myself.”
Before she could summon Darcy, her father began
coughing again and gasping for air. Blinded by tears, she
stumbled out into the hallway only to feel Darcy’s arm,
“Fitzwilliam, I think he is worse. I must tell Mama.”

Mrs. Bennet’s reaction was everything her husband
could have ever feared. The entire house could hear her
wailing and ravings, until Elizabeth finally convinced her
to take to her bed, much to everyone’s relief. She sat in the
parlor, next to Georgiana and stared unseeing at a book in
her lap.
“I have to inform Jane,” Elizabeth said resolutely, pierc-
ing the silence.
“We shall go to Netherfield in the morning,” Darcy re-
sponded from the chair next to her.
“Jane should know,” Elizabeth replied with a firm lilt of
her chin.
“Yes, she should, but let her and Bingley have today. It
is their wedding day, my dear. Tomorrow shall be soon
enough,” he replied in a gentle, firm tone.
55
 “Very well,” Elizabeth replied as she rose and exited the
room. “First thing in the morning. I shall be upstairs with
Papa.”
“Poor Elizabeth,” Georgiana whispered after Elizabeth
left the room.
 return home due to Mr. Gardiner’s business inter-
Darcy and Elizabeth did call at Netherfield at ten
sharp. The Darcys were ushered into the drawing room
and sat in tense silence while they waited for the Bingleys.
Elizabeth felt a pang of guilt when Jane entered the room,
flushed and radiant.
“Lizzy,” she laughed delightedly. “I had not dared to
hope Mama would be successful at convincing you to ex-
tend your stay. I am so happy to see you.”
Elizabeth walked to her sister and grasped her hand. “I
did not stay for Mama. I stayed on account of Papa.” She
swallowed before adding solemnly, “Jane, Papa is very ill.”
Jane paled as she directed Elizabeth back to the settee
and sat beside her. “You mean the cough? I suppose he did
have a cold after all. Did Mama send for Mr. Jones?”
“Fitzwilliam and I did,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Papa
has been ill for some time and decided to keep us all in
the dark.” Jane and Darcy both looked up at the bitterness
in her tone before she continued with more sadness than
bitterness, “Mr. Jones said his heart is weak and has been
steadily declining since October.”
“That was five months ago,” Jane replied with a gasp.
She blinked before she said, “I suppose that is why Papa
has kept to his room. Oh poor Papa.”
“Yes, well, I will stay for as long as I am able,” Elizabeth
said briskly and she rose, once again taking Jane and
Darcy by surprise. “I should return now and attend him.”
She suddenly turned and embraced Jane. “I am sorry for
ruining what should be a happy day for you.”
Soon, she descended the steps of Netherfield and gazed
out at the warmth of a glorious spring day, wondering why
she felt so cold.
56
Chapter 20
T
he next three weeks passed at Longbourn tinged
with anxiety and sadness. The Gardiners had to
ests and the burden of the household fell to the
two eldest daughters. Darcy felt himself torn between ir-
ritation with Mrs. Bennet and the utmost respect for Jane
and Elizabeth as they attended to their father and ran the
household while Mrs. Bennet kept to her rooms.
His relationship with Mr. Bennet had improved al-
though still somewhat strained. Mr. Bennet had apologized
for his misjudgment and accusations and Darcy accepted
his words graciously, unable to hold a grudge against a dy-
ing man who obviously loved his daughter. The older man
had further asked for his assistance in running the estate,
and Darcy applied himself to Longbourn with the same
diligence he applied to Pemberley.
Darcy had promptly entered Mr. Bennet’s study, grate-
ful for a task to perform, having never been a man to enjoy
idleness. He had been surprised to find Mr. Bennet an ex-
cellent master, but from Elizabeth’s accounts of her father,
he knew he should not have been so very shocked. Her
father’s negligence of his family apparently did not extend
to his estate, and Darcy found the records at Longbourn
in excellent shape. As he sat in the study at his father-in-
law’s desk and in his chair, he comprehended some of
Elizabeth’s attachment to Mr. Bennet.
The room had a comfortable, masculine feel about it and
the dark walnut shelves lining the walls were bulging with
books, some of which he knew were rather expensive acqui-
sitions. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly as he thought
of Elizabeth as a little girl sitting on her father’s lap in this
very room. He could only imagine the manner of difficult
questions such a lively and spirited girl would have asked of
her father. Whatever his faults, he did nurture and encourage
Elizabeth to enjoy learning and did not try to repress her spirit
into some starched notions of docility and submission.
Darcy perceived that Elizabeth was in pain and he knew
not how to comfort her. Facing the mortality of one’s father
was a horrible business; this he knew from personal experi-
ence, but there was a shift in her beyond worry and grief.
She was remote, distant and tightly controlled; and, though
he berated himself for his selfishness, he missed her.
He finally rose from the desk, hoping to shake off his
somber reflections and made his way into the drawing
room. His eye was immediately drawn to Elizabeth, look-
ing pale but composed as she spoke of the dinner arrange-
ment with Mrs. Hill. Too composed, Darcy thought with
an inward sigh, conversing with Elizabeth for several min-
utes before returning to the study to gather the documents
to be sent to Mr. Phillips.
 Georgiana entered the room shortly thereafter, a slim
volume in her hand and studied Elizabeth much in the
same manner of her brother a few minutes prior. She sat
down and began reading her book while surreptitiously
observing her sister when a visitor was announced.
“Begging your pardon, Mrs. Darcy, but Mr. Collins is
here and insists on seeing your mother.”
Elizabeth sighed in exasperation before turning a tense
smile on the housekeeper. “Very well, Mrs. Hill. Show
him in here.”
Georgiana did not know exactly what to expect, but she
knew the sort of parson her aunt required; servile, docile
and obedient. From the very few times he was mentioned
between Elizabeth and her brother, she had discerned nei-
ther of them held him in much regard, and she soon joined
them in their opinion. The heavy man entered the room
and offered his greetings to Elizabeth in a manner as to
amaze Georgiana. Elizabeth introduced Miss Darcy, and
the parson said excitedly, “Oh, Miss Darcy, I beg your par-
don for not acknowledging you sooner. I should have paid
my respects yesterday to the relations of the noble Lady
Catherine de Bourgh. I left your aunt and cousin very well
just four days prior.”
Georgiana suppressed a slightly incredulous look before
replying quietly, “It is a pleasure to make your acquain-
tance.”
After eff using over her noble connections for a few
more minutes, he turned his attention back to Elizabeth.
“Cousin Elizabeth… Oh! I beg your pardon for my incon-
sideration to your newly exalted consequence. It will not
do for me to address you so informally now you have wed
one of the most important personages in the land. Mrs.
Darcy, I am informed your mother is indisposed.”
Elizabeth’s expression was inscrutable as she replied,
“You are correct, sir.”
“When I heard of your father’s illness, I traveled to
Hertfordshire right away and I was grieved to hear from
Lady Lucas his demise is imminent. Since you are mistress
of a grand estate, you must understand, as Lady Catherine
has instructed. I have such plans for this charming estate
and I cannot wait…”
Georgiana looked in alarm at Elizabeth’s expression of
horror as her sister’s cheeks turned even paler, seemingly
stunned into an uncharacteristic speechlessness. Risen
to anger at his presumption and its effects on Elizabeth,
Georgiana turned a glance almost as fierce as her brother’s.
“Mr. Collins, the ladies of the house are very busy in car-
ing for their parents and do not have time to cater to your
wishes.”
Mr. Collins seemed stunned for a moment, before pro-
testing, “But Lady Catherine said…”
Georgiana interrupted in a tone that might have rivaled
her aunt’s. “I am certain my aunt would never ask you to
impose upon a grieving family. My brother is in the study,
should you wish to speak to him about your plans, but I
must warn you, he will be highly displeased at your breach
of decorum.”
Mr. Collins paled before rising with a bow, “I must
beg your pardon, Miss Darcy. Your knowledge and un-
derstanding of Lady Catherine is undoubtedly superior to
mine. I shall return to Lucas Lodge and call upon your
exalted brother at a later time.” She was almost amused as
he removed his handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his
brow.
After he left, Georgiana felt suddenly presumptuous
herself, collapsing back on the chair. She trembled slightly
as she smoothed her skirts, wondering what had come over
her. To her relief, Elizabeth looked at her in surprise, but
said with genuine feeling, “Thank you, Georgiana.”

The master’s bedchamber was deceptive upon first ap-
pearance, Mr. Bennet thought as he looked weakly around
the room. Jane had arranged two beautiful flower arrange-
ments taking a prominent place where he could view them
as he looked out the window. But I am too exhausted to
look out the window these days, he thought sadly as he took
another shallow breath and closed his eyes.
“No more reading for now, my child,” Mr. Bennet whis-
pered hoarsely as he laid back on the bed. “I will not be
here long enough to worry about the price of wheat.”
Elizabeth set aside the paper, folding her hands in her lap
to keep her fingers from trembling at his tone. “Papa, pray
do not speak so,” she chided in a voice brighter than she
felt. “You must recover. I wish you to come to Pemberley
this summer and see the grand library, although I doubt I
shall see you again once you view all the books therein.”
Mr. Bennet opened his eyes and looked at her solemnly,
without a trace of the satirical light she was so accustomed
to viewing in his eyes. “It is not to be, Lizzy.”
He coughed violently as he struggled to sit upright.
Reaching for her hand, so warm and full of life and prom-
ise, he smiled sadly. “I shall die and sooner than I wish it,
but I am no longer afraid. My fear has done this family
harm, and you more than the others.”
His voice was barely above a whisper and he hoped
the low volume would prevent any more exhausting fits
of coughing. Raising his free hand to silence her protest,
he continued, “It is my doing and I ought to feel it. If I
had done my duty and provided better for you all, I never
would have considering marrying my favorite daughter off
to any foolish man who could provide for her. The same
fear drove me to assume the worst about your husband.
“You see, my child,” he said with a tender smile she had
seen very few times in her life as he patted her hand before
releasing it, “I have worried over you like none of the others.
You share your mother’s spirit as does Lydia, but you are
57
 also a clever sort of girl. Such a clever, spirited girl thrust
into the harsh realities of the world without my protection,
could be inflicted with so much more harm and grief than
your mother or sisters. I have worried for years how I would
be able to marry you off, for certainly most husbands would
try to suppress your vitality, but Darcy set me to rights on
that subject. He will care for you, no doubt better than my-
self. I cannot express what a comfort it is to me.”
He laid back again on the pillows, apparently exhausted
by his windy speech, before saying weakly, “But we did
have some grand times, Lizzy, did we not?”
The tears welled in her eyes at his exhausted whisper and
Elizabeth could only whisper, “Yes, Papa. Who else would
have shared my love for books and appreciated the humor
in the absurdities of the neighborhood?”
Mr. Bennet smiled as he closed his eyes. “Quite true,
my child.” He opened his eyes briefly to smile again at his
beloved daughter. “I hope you remember those times now
and again when in your library at Pemberley.”
He started to wheeze and closed his eyes. “I will rest now,
Lizzy. Send Jane to me for awhile and go rest yourself.”
“As you wish, sir.” Elizabeth stumbled into the hall as
she dashed the tears from her eyes, certain she might have
shared her last conversation with her father. She slid down
the wall as the sobs climbed within her throat. Before she
could slide completely to the floor, she felt a pair of famil-
iar arms gather her up as she sobbed in earnest.
“He is growing worse, is he not?” Elizabeth asked Darcy
between sobs.
Darcy hesitated for a moment before stating forthrightly,
“The physician informs me that your father is weaker.”
He withdrew his handkerchief and blotted the tears
from her face before whispering, “I am so sorry, dearest.”
Darcy drew back and examined her face carefully, not-
ing the exhaustion pervading her frame. “Now that Jane
has arrived, we can depart for Netherfield. I think an after-
noon’s respite and night’s sleep would benefit you greatly.”
Elizabeth stiffened before withdrawing from his embrac-
ing, dashing away tears from her eyes. “I cannot possibly
return to Netherfield. I need to speak to Mrs. Hill about
the fire in Papa’s room and check on Mama. I asked Kitty
and Lydia to see to her tea, but I do not trust them to do
so, and Mary needs her stocking mended…”
“No,” Darcy said firmly. Ignoring her fulminating glare,
he explained patiently, “Your mother and sisters can fend
for themselves for one day and Jane will see to any needs
of your father’s.”
Seeing the stubborn determination in her eyes, Darcy
stroked her cheek lightly, before cajoling her in soft, gen-
tle tones, “Your dedication to duty does you credit, but I
have my duty to care for you. I only ask for you to rest
for one afternoon and one evening. We can return at first
light.”
“I am afraid, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth admitted as the
tears spilled over once more. “If I stop, if I think about
58
what is happening, I will not retain my composure. And if
I leave, Papa might… die.”
Darcy held her as the sobs shook her frame. When all
her tears seemed spent, he said gently, “Jane will send word
if your father’s condition worsens. Elizabeth,” he said seri-
ously as he looked into her eyes. “You need not be strong
for everyone. Let the rest of us take the burden, at least for
today. Jane and Bingley have decided to sit up with your
father tonight to relieve you. Georgiana has been selecting
a few pieces of your favorite melodies to play after dinner.
And after dinner, we can retire; and, if you will, I would
like to hear exactly what you are thinking. Please, allow
me to comfort you, dearest.”
Elizabeth could do little more than nod at such a gra-
cious request as she leaned her head back upon the solid
chest of her husband and sighed. She felt the exhaustion
in her bones and she recognized the wisdom of his words.
“You have thought of everything, it seems.”
“I do try to care for you,” Darcy replied earnestly as he
turned her toward the stairs and out the front door.
“Thank you for sending for the physician, Fitzwilliam,”
Elizabeth finally said as they settled into the carriage. “His
words are not what I had hoped for, but at least I know we
have done our best. And Papa told me you have handled
his trouble with Mr. Ludden and his rents. My entire fam-
ily owes you our thanks.”
“You do not need to thank me for caring for your father
and the interests of your family. They are my family now,”
Darcy replied as he gently stroked her hand.
The evening passed tranquilly enough. Elizabeth did not
talk much, but she did relax in the quiet, easy company
of her family. If she had thought much of it, she would
have wondered at how, in such a short time, her husband
and his sister had become the dearest people to her in the
world, even slightly more dear than Jane. Too weary for
such reflections, she leaned her head on Darcy’s shoulder
as Georgiana played the light, sparkling tunes, the per-
fectly executed notes flowing gently around her. After they
retired, Elizabeth admitted, if only to herself, how nice it
felt to sleep in a bed for an entire night, as opposed to sit-
ting up in a chair in her father’s room, or catching what-
ever few hours of sleep she could find during the day. But
the sensation of a pair of strong, comforting arms around
her and a deep, steady voice in her ear was a sensation
more soothing than Elizabeth could have imagined as she
quickly fell asleep.
A few days later the heavens opened as the rain and
gloom descended upon the cemetery outside of the chapel
at Longbourn. Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley and Mr. Phillips,
joined by Mr. Gardiner, lately returned from town, gath-
ered at the cemetery with the other men in the neighbor-
hood as Mr. Bennet was laid to rest, at last free from the
burdens of secrets and pain he had carried for far too long.

Chapter 21
T
he next month after the funeral had been tiresome
for Darcy and Georgiana, but Darcy knew it had
been particularly wearisome for Elizabeth. The
flurry of activity in procuring and sewing mourn-
ing clothes was only superceded by the flurry of prepara-
tions to move from Longbourn. Mr. Collins was not of
a mind to wait long, and not even his deference to the
nephew of Lady Catherine, could overcome his greed to
inhabit Longbourn.
Mrs. Bennet would not hear of leaving the area and
insisted on taking up residence at Netherfield. Knowing
Bingley would already pay the price of close proximity to
his mother-in-law, Darcy insisted on paying the expenses of
Mrs. Bennet and the younger girls, knowing Mrs. Bennet
would temper her spending if she had to request extrava-
gances from him instead of applying to Bingley’s good na-
ture. We shall invite Mrs. Bennet and the girls to Pemberley
in a few months, Darcy planned. Jane and Bingley will need
the time alone.
“Jane, have you seen Elizabeth?” Darcy inquired upon
entering the drawing room, finding it thankfully empty.
Jane looked up from her sewing, the black fabric draped
over her hands and answered shortly, “She went for a
walk.”
Jane delicately laid the fabric next to her on the sofa and
sighed. “Please forgive me, Fitzwilliam. If I guess correctly,
she is at Papa’s grave. I saw her in the cutting garden ear-
lier but she never brought any flowers indoors.”
Darcy set off for the chapel and found her as Jane pre-
dicted. He observed the pale, small figure of his wife, clad
in black, calmly arranging flowers upon the grave of her
father. He could almost feel her repressed pain from where
he stood.
Directing his glance toward the grave, he recalled his last
conversation with her father, and the promises he made.
“Darcy, you have come,” Mr. Bennet said wearily.
“As you asked, sir.”
The older man looked at him solemnly for a moment before
smiling slightly. “How did you find my library?”
“It is an excellent room,” Darcy replied. He struggled against
his native reserve, to add, “I thought upon all the happy times
you must have shared with Elizabeth in that room. I admit to
wondering what questions she might have asked of you, sir.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled softly. “My Lizzy was a most in-
quisitive child. Most little girls wanted to be outside, plaiting
daisies or some other such nonsense, but Lizzy wanted me to
read Aesop’s fables to her. I can still remember finishing ‘The
Tortoise and the Hare’ and reading ‘Slow and steady wins the
race.’ My Lizzy looks at me and says ‘Quick and determined
wins the race even faster, Papa’. When she was a little older,
we read Canterbury Tales together. What precious times I
spent in my study with my girl.”
Darcy felt his lips curve at the story, well imagining the
clever little girl who became his wife. He was startled to hear
her father’s voice again. “But she is not my Lizzy any longer.
She is yours now, and I pray you will care for her better than
I.”
Darcy didn’t know how to respond to such a speech.
Fortunately, Mr. Bennet saved his reply by continuing, “I
have never hidden my preference for Lizzy, much to her moth-
er’s vexation, but I have always feared for her future. I have
feared those qualities I love most about Lizzy could become a
burden for her. Our world is not kind to women without for-
tune or a father to protect them, and spirited women, clever
enough to discern those injustices are even more to be pitied.
Her spirits could be harshly extinguished and her wit misused
if she found herself in the wrong circumstances.”
“Elizabeth’s vivaciousness and intelligence are some of the
qualities I love most in her, sir, and altering her character
would be abhorrent. You need not worry,” Darcy replied ear-
nestly.
The older man smiled as he closed his eyes. “I know and I
am glad I discovered it before I met my Maker.”
Darcy turned from the grave, deciding he had one more
task to perform before he could take Elizabeth back to
Pemberley. Resolutely, he walked to Longbourn for an au-
dience with Mr. Collins.

When the rainy April gave way to May, Pemberley was
filled with blooms. Elizabeth entered the foyer with a bas-
ket of cut flowers, handing her bonnet to the footman be-
fore heading for the morning room. Darcy paused on the
staircase, admiring her appearance for a moment, as her
rosy cheeks were revealed by the removal of her bonnet.
Darcy followed her shortly into the morning room, ob-
serving the graceful line of her arms as she arranged the
cut flowers into a large vase. Suddenly recalling his pur-
pose, he moved to greet her and then stated gently, “My
dear, I must go to town in the morning.”
“I see,” Elizabeth remarked quietly as she turned back
toward the vase.
“I would be pleased if you were to come with me,” Darcy
said impulsively. “I will be occupied during the day, but
you could visit the Gardiners and perhaps shop or visit
some of the sights.”
“No, I shall stay here,” Elizabeth replied immediately.
“Georgiana dislikes town, and we have much to do.”
“As you wish,” Darcy said quietly, choking back his dis-
appointment. Grasping her hand, he added, “I am pleased
at how you love my sister and how attentive you are to
her.”
59
 He saw a flicker of emotion in her eyes before she
pressed his hand in return. “Our sister,” she said with a
slight smile.
“How long will you be gone?” She asked with slightly
more warmth as she released his hand and resumed her at-
tention to the flowers.
“I shall be gone a fortnight, perhaps less—a day or two
if all goes well,” Darcy replied. Sensing he was unlikely to
receive much more of a response from her, he said, “I shall
see you at dinner then, Elizabeth. If you need me, I shall
be in my study.”
Elizabeth felt a twinge as she heard his steps grow fainter.
I do not have time to think about his trip now, she thought
determinedly. I have much work to do in the gardens. I need
to speak with Mr. White about the roses. I have some calls to
make on the tenants and I need to speak with Mrs. Reynolds
on airing out the east wing. Elizabeth went to her study and
removed the household notebook from her desk to scribble
a few more notes on her lists.
The next weeks passed uneventfully enough at Pemberley.
Elizabeth directed the staff as she undertook some of the
projects in her notebook, which quite exhausted her by the
time she hit her pillow at night. If she slept more fitfully
without the warmth and protection of her husband’s em-
brace, she would not admit it to herself.
The morning before Darcy was due to return, she re-
ceived a letter in her husband’s close, elegant hand, send-
ing a flutter down her spine. Retreating to her study, she
broke the seal to read:
“Dear Elizabeth,
My business here has taken longer than I anticipated. I shall
remain here for another week.
FD”
Elizabeth felt a wave of disappointment as the letter
floated back onto the smooth surface of her desk. Feeling
suddenly tired and weary, Elizabeth went to her room,
flinging herself rather inelegantly onto the bed. Catching a
glimpse of two worn leather volumes on her bedside table,
Elizabeth sat up and reached out her hand, gently tracing
the spines of the volumes. Darcy had surprised her with
the volumes from Longbourn’s library after they returned
home, although Elizabeth was certain he already owned
those works.
But his copies could not carry the sentimentality of these
volumes, and Fitzwilliam understands it. Elizabeth picked
up Aesop’s Fables and skimmed through the pages, recall-
ing her feelings as a girl when she looked upon the render-
ings. Unbidden, those feelings she had only given voice to
once, rose before her as the tears stung her eyes. And even
beyond the sadness and grief she had felt that day as she
wept in her husband’s arms, the feelings of remorse and
60
betrayal rolled through her, recalling all of the time her fa-
ther had squandered at the end of his life. She sobbed over
it until she had no tears left, and another idea made her sit
up with a gasp.
Am I any better than Papa, wasting time I could be sharing
with my own husband? I have been so caught up in not think-
ing on what was, that I forgot what is. I have paid atten-
tion to every obligation with the exception of my obligations
to Fitzwilliam. I love him and I have known my feelings for
weeks but I have not shared them.
Suddenly, she wished desperately for Darcy and deter-
mined once she returned to his embrace, she would tell
him everything in her heart.

To Elizabeth’s disappointment, Darcy did not re-
turn when he was expected. She tried not to worry for
him, finally deciding to retire but her fears chased away
any peaceful slumber. She woke within a few hours to the
sound of a piano playing. Puzzled, she wrapped herself in
her dressing gown and went to find out why Georgiana
was up at this hour.
When she reached the doorway of the upstairs par-
lor, the breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of
Darcy’s back as he sat at the piano, the beautiful strains
of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata floating through the air.
Fascinated, Elizabeth stayed rooted to the spot, catching a
glimpse of his elegant hands and long fingers proficiently
stroking over the keys. The last note faded and Elizabeth
finally shook off the lethargy surrounding her, clapping
lightly at his brilliant performance.
Darcy whirled around quickly in surprise, to see the vi-
sion of his wife in the doorway, the silk of her dressing
gown glowing in the candlelight. He immediately rose
and walked to her, hiding his flushing cheeks as he lightly
kissed her fingers. “I beg your pardon for disturbing your
slumber, my dear,” he said quietly, disrupting the intimate
stillness surrounding her.
Elizabeth turned her hand to grasp his, staring in rapt
amazement at his hand. Finally, she remarked breathlessly,
“I never knew you played.” After what seemed like an eter-
nity to him, she raised her beautiful eyes to his and smiled,
making his heart beat painfully.
“No one knows with the exception of Georgiana and
now you,” Darcy said with a rueful smile. “My mother
thought she would never have a girl and she desperately
wished to teach me. My father considered it an unfitting
occupation for a son,” he continued with a darker expres-
sion before adding more cheerfully, “but Mother won the
argument, as she normally did.”
“I missed you,” Elizabeth said suddenly. “I was worried
when you did not return this afternoon.”
 “I am sorry,” responded Darcy, reaching out his other
hand to lightly stroke her silken sleeve. “There was an ac-
cident on the road outside of Lambton and it took several
hours to move the carriage.”
Elizabeth returned her gaze to his hand. “You have the
hands for playing,” she remarked, leaving Darcy slightly
bewildered at another abrupt change of subject.
“Perhaps that is why I will never excel at playing as you
and Georgiana do,” she said with an impish smile, sudden-
ly self-conscious. “With my small hands and short fingers,
I hardly stand a chance.”
Darcy’s smile turned gentle as he lifted her hand and
softly brushed his lips across her fingers. “Your hands are
perfect,” he replied in a low tone that sent a jolt of aware-
ness through her skin.
Elizabeth said softly, “Your mother was right to teach
you to play. That piece is one of my favorites.”
“Mine as well,” he replied. “It is a piece I comprehend
perfectly. Beethoven wrote it to the woman he loved.”
Elizabeth lifted a sparkling gaze upon him. She still
found it hard to credit that a man so powerful, handsome
and clever was enamored of a pretty, unsophisticated girl
from the country when he had been surrounded by the
most beautiful, accomplished and fashionable women in
the kingdom. But looking into his eyes, filled with love
and admiration, she knew it to be the truth and felt all of
her fortune in being loved by such a man. And I love him,
too, she reminded herself. How happy he shall be to know it,
she thought as a brilliant smile crossed her lips.
Darcy thought his heart might stop when she smiled
at him, her eyes sparkling so magically he wondered if he
would ever feel his feet return to earth. “She loved him,
too,” Elizabeth whispered as her free hand reached up and
softly touched his cheek, causing his eyes to close.
He would never forget that moment, when she slipped
her arms around his waist and tears filled her eyes. “I
should have told you long ago, but my father’s death in-
terfered. I shut myself off from everyone, but I should not
have done so, not from you.” She took a deep breath and
said, “I love you, Fitzwilliam. I truly love you with all my
heart.”
She thought she had been kissed before, but none of their
prior encounters prepared her as his mouth closed over
hers with an insistent, urgent hunger that she returned in
full force. As suddenly as he began kissing her, he stopped,
sweeping her carefully into his arms as he crossed the hall
toward their chambers.
“Fitzwilliam!” Elizabeth hissed. “What if the servants or
Georgiana see us?”
Darcy laughed softly as he bent his head to taste her lips
again. “I do not care. Any person prowling the halls in the
family apartments at this time of night deserves the view.”
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow when he stopped in front of
his chambers instead of hers. “Now you shall see how the
Master of Pemberley truly welcomes his bride.” He smiled
joyfully at her, a smile she could only return as he crossed
the threshold.

The next morning dawned beautifully as the happy rays
of sunshine invaded the master’s chambers. Elizabeth woke
with the same smile she had worn when she fell asleep,
stretching her arms above her head as she shook off the
last remnants of slumber. The preceding night had been
so amazing, she wondered if she would ever feel the same
again.
The acknowledgment of their feelings made each kiss,
each touch so much sweeter and the only force more po-
tent than her awareness of her heightened feelings were the
emotions she saw in Darcy’s eyes, as he reverentially whis-
pered her name. She sighed contentedly before reaching for
her husband, only to find the bed disappointingly empty.
“Fitzwilliam?” she called in confusion.
“I am in here, my darling,” he responded from their sit-
ting room and soon re-entered his room, a new joy light-
ening his green eyes as he looked upon her. “Good morn-
ing. You have awakened just as I was coming to fetch you.
I have a surprise for you.”
Elizabeth followed him to the sitting room, automatical-
ly noticing a breakfast tray on one side table with an elabo-
rate bouquet of pink roses. “Happy birthday, Elizabeth.”
“I had forgotten about my birthday,” Elizabeth replied
with a gasp. She quickly wound her arms around Darcy’s
neck. “Thank you for remembering.”
They sat to eat their breakfast, happily conversing in the
mutual air of affection. When breakfast was over, Darcy
withdrew two parcels hidden beside the sofa and handed
them to a stunned Elizabeth.
“Presents!” she exclaimed delightedly, her face look-
ing so much like a little girl that Darcy could not keep
from laughing. She excitedly reached for them, but Darcy
grinned as he held them out of her reach.
“I never would have guessed you to be covetous,” Darcy
remarked, only to laugh again at her adorable pout. He
sighed and handed her gifts to her in feigned exasperation,
smiling again at the unaffected joy and enthusiasm on her
features. While she tugged at the strings on the first gift,
he felt again the smile of good fortune in securing such a
wife.
Elizabeth opened the small box to discover a sparkling
blue sapphire pendant, hanging off an elegant diamond
chain. “Oh, Fitzwilliam, it is beautiful.” She turned to-
ward him to allow him to clasp it for her, turning her head
with a radiant smile when he kissed the tender skin of her
neck.
Her smile faded when she tore the paper off the next
gift. Set in a frame was a silhouette she recognized imme-
61
 diately as her father. Darcy began to worry at her silence
and said, “I worried it might be too soon to give it to you.
I hope I was in error.”
Elizabeth looked up then, her eyes filled with tears.
“How did you obtain it?”
“I went to London to meet with an artist. He created
it from the original I borrowed from your mother.” She
cast her eyes back down to the frame and said nothing.
C
Nervously, he asked, “Do you like it?”
Elizabeth carefully laid the frame aside before throwing
herself into Darcy’s lap, wrapping her arms around his neck
as she laid her head upon his shoulder. “Oh Fitzwilliam,
oh yes. I am overwhelmed. I don’t know what to say…so
thoughtful. Thank you.”
He relaxed at her sentiments, gently stroking her back
as he could feel how emotional she was. Finally, she lifted
her head to look at him, the happy smile returning to her
face. “This is why you went to London and why you were
delayed.”
He nodded. “Yes, the artist took longer than he
planned.”
She marveled at his ability to touch her heart, to in-
stinctively understand how she missed the life she had left
behind and the father who had passed. With the tangible
tokens of her past, she could move to her future, a future
with the man she loved. As she leaned into kiss him, she
felt the utmost gratitude for faith and goodness, love and
perserverance, thinking briefly of all they had overcome.
“Elizabeth, how was your visit to Hertfordshire?”
62
Epilogue
Two years later.
olonel Richard Fitzwilliam returned to England a
different man. He had seen some skirmishes be-
fore, but the sights on the Continent had exceeded
every notion he’d ever entertained of suffering and
misery. He had recovered soon from his minor injury, but
the images remained in his mind each time he closed his
eyes. He immediately took to the bottle, hoping to obliter-
ate every horror he’d ever witnessed.
His father and brother had scolded him for his intemper-
ance but it had been of little use until he had finally tired
himself of such a temporary, incomplete solace. When he
received Darcy’s letter, inviting him to Pemberley, he im-
mediately decided to refuse. Why would he want to go
there and see his cousin surrounding by domestic felicity?
But on second consideration, he accepted. He had al-
ways been fond of Darcy and Georgiana, and he enjoyed
Elizabeth’s company. The sight of their little girl could not
but soothe some of the persistent pain. So to Pemberley he
went.
He was nearly amused at the besotted manner of Darcy
toward his wife, so very unexpected after three years of
marriage. Darcy still gazed upon her admiringly for brief
moments when he thought he was unobserved, and paid
her every proper attention. Elizabeth herself possessed an
air of serenity and contentment, and looked every bit the
part of a happy wife. Richard imagined some of it was due
to her state of expectancy, but when her eyes sparkled at
her husband as she teased him, he knew some of it was due
to Darcy as well.
And no one could doubt Darcy’s devotion to his child,
nor the little girl’s love for him. Richard couldn’t restrain
his smile at seeing the little blond cherub so confidently
run to her father and sit on his lap. She was a happy, joyful,
remarkably unspoiled child, a wonderful combination of
qualities from her parents.
The biggest surprise of all to Richard was found in
Georgiana. He watched as she quietly spoke to Elizabeth
about their efforts to relieve the tenants and observed her
beautiful performance on the pianoforte. She was certainly
a remarkable aunt, spending hours amusing her little niece.
She had grown more lovely than he ever remembered;
handsome, tall, slender and elegant.
He observed Georgiana conversing with Elizabeth.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Mama did not take the news
of the Bingley’s removal to Derbyshire very well, I am sor-
 ry to report. She nearly convinced Jane to stay, but we pre-
vailed. Fitzwilliam has leased a very nice cottage for them
in Meryton.”
Georgiana sipped from her teacup before asking, “Did
you visit Longbourn?”
“Yes, we did,” Elizabeth replied, with little somberness.
“Mr. Collins has the gardens done up beautifully and
Charlotte is looking well.” Elizabeth grinned slightly be-
fore adding, “He asked me in particular to pay his respects
to you.”
Colonel Fitzwilliam couldn’t understand Georgiana’s
blush as she smiled somewhat guiltily, he thought.
Four pleasant weeks were spent at Pemberley in that
manner. Richard was still gripped by occasional bouts of
melancholy and he grudingly envied the Darcys, although
he would never wish ill for his cousin or his family. He
couldn’t keep from thinking that no one in the happi-
ness and harmony of Pemberley could understand what he
had suffered. He persisted in this understanding until he
caught Georgiana gazing upon him in sympathetic con-
cern and realized his mistake. In her own way, she knew
exactly what he felt. They walked in the gardens several
times and talked, with her sweet, gentle nature enchanting
him. She gave him a sense of calm he had never felt and he
made her laugh.
He tormented himself for two weeks over her. He
thought his father unlikely to object to the match. She
might not bring new connections, but they would keep
the Darcy and Fitzwilliam fortunes in the family. He
couldn’t offer her Pemberley, but with a small estate left
to him by his mother and Georgiana’s dowry, they would
be comfortable. He knew there were only two obstacles:
Georgiana and Darcy.
He wondered if she was too young and what he would
say to Darcy. But when he considered that horrible sum-
mer three years ago, he knew, in some ways, she was much
older than her years and Darcy could be convinced.
Two days before he was due to return to Lancashire, he
approached Darcy in the billiard room after dinner. Never
one to disassemble, Richard stated directly, “Darcy, I in-
tend to offer for Georgiana.”
Darcy’s head shot up in surprise and he said nothing for
several minutes, before remarking coolly, “I had no idea
the two of you had formed an attachment.”
“I do not know what Georgiana feels, but I am attached
to her.” Seeing his cousin remained unconvinced, Richard
added, “Darcy, I love her, and I am old enough to know
what I am about. I want to make her happy and would be
a good husband to her.”
“I know you would care for her,” Darcy remarked qui-
etly. “But what about the army? She is stronger now, but I
do not see her adjusting well to that sort of life.”
“I intend to resign my commission,” Richard replied.
“With Mother’s estate and Georgiana’s dowry, we could
have a comfortable life together.”
Darcy stared at his cousin for a minute or two, his face
unreadable. Finally, he said, “You have convinced me,
Richard. If Georgiana will have you, I will not object.”
Hence, the Hon. Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam offered
marriage to his cousin, Georgiana Darcy the day before he
was set to depart. Georgiana seemed a mixture of embar-
rassment and happiness, until suddenly a sadness overtook
her countenance, to Richard’s dismay. “Richard, I do not
know if I can accept you.”
Richard’s face fell as he remarked curtly, “I only want
you to accept if you feel enough affection for me as your
husband. I have no desire for your hand under any other
circumstances. If your hesitation is borne out of feelings of
gratitude, please do not injure us both.”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand! I do feel a great deal for
you,” Georgiana cried. She blushed as she looked off to
the side of the path they were traversing. She watched the
trout jumping in the river for a few seconds before stating
quietly, “I am not innocent, Richard.”
“Yes, yes you are,” Richard stated emphatically. “In all of
the ways important to me, you are. How horribly unjust
it would be to us both, if you allowed that man and his
duplicitous companion to rob us of our chance for happi-
ness.”
He stopped and took her hand. “As far as I am con-
cerned, you are the sweetest, gentlest, kindest creature in
the world, and I would be honored to have you as my wife.”
He cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I prom-
ise you shall never have cause to fear me, and I will always
respect your wishes. Your life with me will be nothing like
your stay in London.”
“That is not my only concern,” Georgiana conceded qui-
etly. “I am a dull, quiet sort of woman. I will never be like
you or Elizabeth. I fear you will tire of me.”
Richard laughed. “Like Elizabeth tires of your broth-
er? She speaks more in one evening than Darcy does all
week.”
Georgiana laughed merrily. “I suppose there is some truth
in that.” She turned serious as she squeezed his wrist, his
hand still cupping her chin. “If you are certain, so am I.”
Three months later, in a beautiful summer ceremony
in the chapel at Pemberley, Georgiana Darcy married.
Georgiana was destined for a wonderful life, a life she nev-
er would have dreamed of four years prior, a life filled with
love and affection, from happy, giggling children and the
devotion of her husband, all of which she returned in full
measure. Georgiana Fitzwilliam felt every happiness and
cherished every moment.
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