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Chapter Text

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy did not care overly for being in London. It was cold, damp, and crowded. There was no way for her to easily get out of town and with the new factories in town, the air was stifling. Unfortunately, she had learned, this was where the upper class spent their summer. Her husband was of a higher standing than her, and thus subscribed to the practices of his class. As his wife, she too, now had to take part in the same practices. 

Lizzie, as she preferred, did not grow up poor, by any means, she was the daughter of a gentleman. While Mr. Bennet simply did not manage his money very well, poor, they were not. At least, not in the monetary sense. 

Lizzie’s husband, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was a stranger to her on their wedding day. He was aloof and stoic but had dropped everything at the behest of his friend, Mr. Charles Bingley. He had told him Lizzie’s youngest sister, Lydia had run off with a Mr. George Wickham. She could still remember the day as if it were yesterday. 

Mrs. Bennet was laying in her bed, crying over the disappearance of her youngest daughter. “Oh, Lydia has ruined you all! My poor, dear daughters!” 

“Madam,” Mrs. Hill, the Bennet’s housekeeper came into Mrs. Bennet’s room. All the remaining Bennet girls, including Lizzie, were sitting with their mother. “There is a Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy here to see you. He says he is a friend of Mr. Bingley’s.” 

“What on Earth could he want?” Mrs. Bennet cried, sitting up in her bed. “Lizzie, go receive him while I get dressed. I am in no state to see guests right now!” 

Lizzie obeyed her mother, preferring the stranger to her mother’s cries. She made her way down the stairs and into their parlor, quickly. A young man stood with his back to the door, looking out the window. He was dressed well, a top hat and riding crop in his hands that were set behind his back. The man was tall, taller than any man Lizzie had ever encountered before. 

“Sir?” She spoke softly, so as to not startle the man. He turned around to face her and she could see the fatigue present on his face. The poor man! He must have rushed to their house. “My name is Elizabeth Bennet, I’m the second eldest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Bennet. My mother is indisposed at present but should be here to receive you, shortly.” She curtsied to him. 

The man bowed in turn, crossing the room quickly to take her hand. “Miss Bennet, I am Fitzwilliam Darcy, a friend of Mr. Charles Bingley.” Mr. Darcy took her hand in his and bowed to kiss her knuckles. “I apologize for coming here unannounced but I have located Wickham and your sister, Lydia.” 

Lizzie’s eyes widened and she felt her knees buckle underneath her. She was usually so strong but had spent the past week without sleep. The relief of Mr. Darcy’s statement hit her so physically that she nearly fell to the floor. Mr. Darcy caught her by the waist before she could fall. “Oh, forgive me, sir. It is just…I feared she would be lost forever.” Her voice was quiet, no louder than a whisper. He led her to a chair and sat her down, not a hint of emotion on his face as he stood before her. 

“I have already located your father and uncle, Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner. They agreed to the terms of Miss Lydia’s dowry and she and Wickham married this morning. They should all be here shortly.” Mr. Darcy explained. “Mr. Bennet and Mr. Gardiner sent me ahead to tell Mrs. Bennet and…” 

Lizzie looked up at the man, seeing his serious face contort slightly into an expression of regret, almost. “Sir?” 

He took a deep breath and knelt before her. “I had heard Mr. Bingley broke off his courtship with your sister, Miss Jane Bennet. I must apologize for this.” 

Lizzie shook her head, now eye level with the strange man. “Sir, you have nothing to apologize for. You are a stranger to my family yet you tracked down my sister and Mr. Wickham and took care of the situation. What on Earth could I blame you for?” 

The man swallowed roughly and Lizzie could see there was something he wasn’t telling her. “It was my fault Bingley broke it off. And it was my fault Wickham found your sister and tormented your family.” 

Lizzie tilted her head, her brows furrowing. If it was as he said, and Mr. Bingley truly broke off his courtship with Jane at Mr. Darcy’s behest. Then, he had ruined her sister’s chance at happiness. “Jane and Mr. Bingley aside, sir. I do not see how Wickham’s actions could be your responsibility.” Mr. Darcy pursed his lips and took another deep breath. She noticed, now, how blue the man’s eyes were behind his strong brow. 

“There is something else…because I have ruined Miss Bennet’s chances at happiness with Bingley and the other Miss Bennets’ chances, as well, through Wickham. Your father agreed to give me your hand in marriage.” Lizzie stiffened. Her hand? Marriage? To this stranger? “You may very well refuse, Miss Bennet, however, I believe our marriage would be the best solution to saving your sisters’ reputations.” 

She stood suddenly from her chair, stalking over to the window to look out at the field. Oh, this was all her fault, this was her doing. She had once declared to Jane that only the deepest love would persuade her into matrimony but there was a bigger matter at hand, this was unlike marrying Mr. Collins to inherit Longbourne. The damage was already done and Lizzie had to minimize its effect on the remainder of the family as best she could. “Sir…I do not know what I have done to deserve you here fixing the problems I created but…I will marry you, if you will have me, truly.” 

Mr. Darcy bowed curtly, “I will have everything arranged shortly, Miss Elizabeth. Please excuse me.” And with that, the man was gone, leaving Lizzie alone in the sitting room to examine the gravity of the situation. She felt faint, her clothing felt like it was strangling her and it was all Lizzie could do to keep from running out and jumping into the lake.

They were married in early May, as soon as possible without seeming suspicious. Mrs. Bennet was rather pleased at having two daughters married off and one to a man of Mr. Darcy’s standing. It had indeed taken precedence over Lydia’s hasty marriage to Mr. Wickham, thus preserving the remaining three Bennet sisters’ reputations. Her new husband, Fitzwilliam, was usually a quiet man, which didn’t bother Lizzie overly. He also provided her with plenty of books and time to read, which she appreciated greatly. Mr. Darcy took her to town so he could quickly get back to his work and give her the opportunity to be mistress of her own house. This would have allowed them to take part in the social season, but Mr. Darcy declined any invitations on account of his newlywed status. 

He was a gentle husband and allowed Lizzie to sleep in a separate room and didn’t call on her at night. They only consummated their marriage on their wedding night, for the sake of validity. Their marriage was quiet, though. If she didn’t know better, she’d say it was from guilt. But, what did Mr. Darcy have to be guilty about? Her miscarrying? That was hardly his fault. 

“Mrs. Smith, could you fetch Mr. Darcy, please?” Lizzie asked the housekeeper at Darcy house one morning in July. “It’s rather urgent. And fetch me…fetch me some hot water and clean menstrual linens, please.” Her voice broke and that seemed to be enough for Mrs. Smith to understand what was going on. 

Mr. Darcy arrived quickly, out of breath, most likely from running to her. “Elizabeth, what’s happened?” 

She swallowed thickly and met his eyes. He looked afraid and almost boyish standing in her bedroom. “Please, sit down.” Mr. Darcy obeyed her, sitting on the edge of the bed and waiting for her to continue. She did so, looking down at her hands. “I was with child, unbeknownst to either of us. And… and… as of this morning, I am no longer with child. I will have to call an apothecary but I may need to rest in bed for a few days.” Lizzie finally looked up and met his gaze, the look of heartbreak apparent. 

He swallowed thickly and looked down, taking a deep breath. “I am…I am so sorry, Elizabeth.” Mr. Darcy stood up quickly after a moment of silence. “I will call on a physician and have some food brought to you…I…oh, I am so sorry, Elizabeth.” 

They hardly spoke after that, until finally, in November, they had decided to move to Pemberley for the season. The train ride to Derbyshire was much longer than the one from Hertfordshire to London, about six hours. Perhaps his guilt had come from Mr. Bingley breaking off his courtship to Jane; but Jane had told Lizzie otherwise.

“But Jane! How on Earth could I marry the man who ruined your chance at happiness?” Lizzie cried later the night she became engaged. 

“Lizzie,” Jane started, sitting down on the bed next to her and gently taking her hand. “May I tell you a secret? Mr. Bingley told me precisely why he broke off our courtship.” 

“Why did he break it off?” Lizzie looked up at her sister, a faint smile on her soft features. 

“His sisters were the ones who told him it would ruin not only his reputation but Caroline’s as well. If he continued courting me with a fallen sister, it could ruin Miss Bingley’s chance at marriage. He did say that Mr. Darcy also pointed this out to him but that he should not make any hasty decisions. Aside from this, Lizzie. Mr. Bingley is his own man who made his own decision.” 

Lizzie was quiet, thinking over the revelation. “Mr. Darcy told him it could ruin Miss Bingley’s chances but to not make haste with a decision?”

Jane nodded, “yes, he said that Mr. Darcy was going after Mr. Wickham and Lydia, believing he knew where they were. Apparently, Mr. Wickham is a former acquaintance of Mr. Darcy’s. He was certain Lydia would not be lost forever and encouraged Mr. Bingley to wait…but Mr. Bingley had already made his decision. Oh, do not be angry with him, he was putting his sister’s well-being before his feelings.” 

Lizzie nodded, feeling that she too must put her own sisters before her personal feelings. 

“Sir?” Lizzie whispered in their compartment. They were alone in the tiny compartment, sitting opposite each other. Mr. Darcy was busying himself with some paperwork for a factory he had recently bought. At the sound of her voice, he looked up at her, waiting expectantly. “I apologize for interrupting you but what is the plan for our time at Pemberley? How long are we to be there?” 

Mr. Darcy set his work aside and leaned forward. “I apologize, I’ve neglected you as of recently. Pemberley is my main estate and I enjoy spending most of my time there. It is farther from Meryton than London, I apologize for that. It does, however, have plenty of space for guests. We will be there for most of the winter months. I had assumed you desired to invite your family to spend Christmastide with us.” 

 Lizzie’s face lit up at the prospect of having her sister, Jane with her. The prospect of having her sister’s new husband with them was less than desirable. “We would not invite the Wickhams, would we?” 

Mr. Darcy’s gaze darkened unexpectedly and growled, “no, Wickham is not allowed anywhere near our home. Your sister, Mrs. Wickham is more than welcome but her husband is not to be allowed at Pemberley.” 

Lizzie was quiet for several moments before asking, “there is no reason for me to trust Mr. Wickham around my family…but, sir, what happened between you and he, that you blame yourself for Lydia’s marriage to him?”

Mr. Darcy’s gaze hardened, a characteristic that his bride was unfamiliar with and seemed to stiffen under. Finally, he relented. “He ran off with my sister, Georgiana, and tried to marry her for her inheritance. She is to inherit £30,000. When I had made it clear he would not see any of this money, he left her…after I had paid him off, as well. I did not believe he would do this, once more but I should have sent him to a debtor’s prison rather than exposing him to your poor sister.” 

Lizzie was quiet for several moments, processing the sudden revelation. “I did not overly care for Mr. Wickham. He was kind and charming at first, to be sure. But, when I would not fall into line with his desires or insist that we be accompanied by another person…something in his air had changed. I thought…” she trailed off, looking out the window as she gathered her thoughts. “I had thought I was rather mad to think of him so without any evidence but then he and Lydia ran off together in the middle of the night…I had thought it was my fault.” 

“No, madam. It was not your fault, how were you to know what he was going to do?” 

“But I could have been more open with my sisters, sir!” She cried, turning back to face him. 

He smiled faintly, “I believe you are as well-acquainted with younger sisters choosing to do what we advise against as I am, Elizabeth.” 

Lizzie smiled softly, mirroring the smile on Mr. Darcy’s face. It was the first time she had seen him make such an expression, it suited him more than his scowl. “Then, sir, how could you reasonably blame yourself for Mr. Wickham’s actions?” 

Mr. Darcy went silent at this, the smile on his face disappearing as he looked down. “I suppose you are using my words against me, my dear.” Lizzie cringed at the term of endearment, an action noticed by her husband immediately. “Is something the matter, my dear?” 

“Not at all, only, I wish you would not call me, ‘my dear’. It’s what my father calls my mother when he’s cross with her…” 

He nodded, “then what endearments am I allowed?” 

“Lizzie is perfectly fine if the nickname suits your taste.” 

“There’s nothing about you that doesn’t suit my tastes, Lizzie.” 

Her cheeks reddened at his words and she looked away from him. “My, sir. That is the most scandalous speech I have heard from you thus far.” 

“Well, you are my wife . If I cannot be frank with you, then who can I be frank with?” 

Lizzie blushed again, she had never heard Mr. Darcy refer to her as ‘his wife’ and she had to admit she liked the sound of it. “You make a fantastic point, sir.” 

“Fitzwilliam.” 

“Sir?” 

“You have never used my name in the 6 months we have been married. You have only ever called me, ‘sir’. Please, call me Fitzwilliam or William.” Mr. Darcy gave her another smile. This train ride was the most emotion she had seen her husband show. 

“Very well, Fitzwilliam.” 

They spent the rest of their train ride discussing what Lizzie was reading, it was a novel by Elizabeth Gaskell called North and South . She had apparently already read it and was returning to it because she enjoyed it so much. “It is a social commentary, to be sure.”

“Commenting on factory owners?” Mr. Darcy raised a brow at her.

“I believe it is meant to be more of a commentary about the working class and their struggles. The state of our world is changing rapidly, Fitzwilliam. What, with the new factories and the rising working class. I fear the status of gentlemen’s families may become obsolete sooner rather than later.” 

Mr. Darcy looked at her intently for a long moment. “You are quite knowledgeable about the world, Lizzie.” 

“Do you believe all young ladies to be ignorant of the matters of the world they live in?” Lizzie leaned forward. 

“Not at all, I believe all accomplished young ladies should have extensive knowledge of the world. Economics, politics, the like. Whether or not they meet those standards is a different argument, however.” 

“Are these standards to go in tandem with the accomplishments of a young lady as expected by society? Singing, dancing, drawing, modern languages, the like?” She tilted her head. 

“They are certainly not meant to contradict those accomplishments. An accomplished young lady should also better her mind through extensive reading.” He nodded towards the novel sitting on Lizzie’s lap. She tossed it on the seat next to her. 

“I am rather curious as to whether or not you actually know any woman who meets these standards of yours, Fitzwilliam. I have never seen such a woman before.” 

“You are so severe on your own sex and yourself?”

“I am terribly poor at drawing, I fear. And my French is novice, at best. I would not meet your standards, how unfortunate for you to have a wife who does not meet your expectations.” Lizzie fought the urge to roll her eyes. Of course, he’d have high expectations for a wife, considering his pedigree. She already did not fit the beauty standards of the time as a redhead, it was either reviled as an omen or thought to be exotic. Her shade was on the darker side but it was always a game of chance as to how people would react to the color. Jane and Lydia’s blonde hair was much more preferable for many suitors and Lizzie found herself wondering, not for the first time, why Mr. Darcy had picked her to be his wife. 

“Lizzie…Elizabeth, look at me.” He said…no, commanded Lizzie. She had no choice but to obey him, looking up to meet his hard gaze. “I was not flattering you when I said there is no part of you that does not suit my tastes. Drawing is of no use to you or else I am certain you would have become proficient at the skill. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet told me there was nothing in this world you could not achieve when you put your mind to it.” Lizzie was surprised to hear this revelation of her character. 

“I had rather thought men preferred ladies who fell in line with all the standards of our society.” 

“Perhaps some men do but I am more of the belief that ladies who make their own decisions are most sought after by men. Perhaps you do not know men as well as you think you do, Elizabeth? We have arrived, by the by.” Mr. Darcy’s thoughts were once again imperceptible as the train came to a halt and they began to ready themselves to deboard. 

— — — — — 

Lizzie was taken by surprise when she laid eyes on Pemberley, her new home. She almost wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. The estate was built in the English Baroque style that had been renovated over time to match the new fashions. It had a long reflecting pool sitting in front of the entrance and was surrounded by beautiful, rolling hills. It was November so the grass had lost a bit of its luster and the higher hills were covered by fog. Why on Earth Mr. Darcy had entrusted Lizzie of all people to be the mistress of this grand estate. 

The footman opened the carriage door and Mr. Darcy got out first, grumbling as his feet hit the ground roughly. The step was missing from this carriage, she had forgotten that. Her husband held out his arms expectantly and waited for Lizzie to stand up and allow him to help her down. Mr. Darcy grabbed Lizzie at her waist, careful to mind her large skirts before gently letting her down onto the gravel drive. The first time they had met, she had taken notice of his sturdy build but didn’t quite realize how strong her husband was. Lizzie was a tomboy who had grown up with sisters and an older father; but she realized soon after her marriage how much weaker than man were the fairer sex. At times, she had to admit it was rather terrifying to think about how helpless she could truly be against her husband. He was still barely more than a stranger to her. 

“Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs. Darcy.” An older housekeeper greeted Lizzie with a small curtsy to which Lizzie returned. “Mr. Darcy, it is so good to have you here. Miss Georgiana has returned from her trip to Rosings and awaits you in the drawing room.” 

Mr. Darcy offered her his arm before guiding her up the steps and into his– their –home. “That is Mrs. Reynolds, she is the housekeeper. Should you need anything, she is more than happy to provide it.” Lizzie nodded as her husband continued on. “Georgiana is the same age as your second youngest sister, Kitty. She is most beloved by everyone here in this house, as well as by my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. Georgiana is rather shy around strangers, not unlike your sister, Jane. But I have written to her about you and she is most excited to meet you.” 

“I am eager to meet her, as well.” Lizzie offered him a small smile as they rounded the corner and entered the drawing room. It was spacious and had plenty of light and well-furnished. A young teenage girl with blonde hair sat on one of the chaise lounges. Upon their entrance, she jumped from her seat and ran to Mr. Darcy. 

“Brother! You are home!” She exclaimed, then squealed as Mr. Darcy picked her up and spun her around. 

“Georgie, I would like you to meet my wife, Elizabeth.” He said once the girl’s feet were safely upon the ground once more. “Elizabeth, this is my sister, Georgiana.” 

The girl, Georgiana, pulled Lizzie into a tight embrace. “Oh, it is so nice to finally meet you! Fitzwilliam has done nothing but sing your praises in all his letters!” 

“No, that is not all–

“I feel that I already know you so well! Oh, it is so wonderful to have a sister!” She smiled up at Lizzie. Georgiana had the same bright blue eyes that her brother possessed and seemed to share his smile, as well. Perhaps it was because she was so young but she was very small, almost a head shorter than Lizzie. 

“It is wonderful to meet you, as well, Georgiana. I, too, am very happy to have a sister here.” Lizzie smiled back at her before turning to glance at her husband. “He sang my praises, did he?” 

“Oh, he did. He said–

“Alright, that’s enough. Why don’t we call for some tea?” Mr. Darcy cut his sister off, his cheeks redder than Lizzie thought humanly possible. 

Georgiana rolled her eyes before squeezing Lizzie’s hand. “I’ll tell you all about it later. Let me call for some tea.” She left the room leaving husband and wife alone for the first time after setting foot in their home. 

“She is rather energetic.” Mr. Darcy said, leading Lizzie over to the sofas to have her sit down.

“She is, but that means she is happy and being brought up with care. Unhappy teenagers are not energetic, I’m sure you’re aware.” 

He nodded, sitting down beside her. “Indeed, it has taken a while but she is finally happy once more.” 

“Who are we to be hosting for Christmas?” Lizzie asked, changing the topic. It wouldn’t be good to dwell too much on the past. 

“Ah, yes. Well, your family, to be sure. Then, Georgie and I usually host my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.” 

“It sounds as if Pemberley is to be full for the holidays.” Lizzie replied, trying not to think of the pressure hosting so many people would be on here. 

“Not at all, we could invite more people, if you’d like. Such as your friend Mrs. Collins?” Lizzie shook her head. “I suppose we could not take the Parson from Rosings, that would be unfair to my aunt, Lady Catherine.” 

Lizzie pursed her lips, stifling a laugh. “Perhaps next year would be better? I fear I may not be a good hostess, as I am without practice.” 

“Of course.” Mr. Darcy nodded. “You will not be by yourself. Georgie and Mrs. Reynolds will assist you. I, too, am at your service, should you desire my help.” 

“Your assistance will be of a great help to me, Fitzwilliam.” Lizzie felt very out of her depth already. 

— — — — — 

After her tea with Mr. Darcy and Georgiana, Lizzie was able to retire to her new bedroom until supper. It was a large room with mahogany furnishings and a large, four-poster bed. There was a door that no doubt led to Mr. Darcy’s adjoining room on the right side of the bed. The other side also had a door that Lizzie discovered led to a shared bath. The rest of her spacious room boasted a spot for tea or meals, a large hearth, and a leather armchair next to the hearth. Her clothes had been unpacked and put away in her wardrobe and the only thing she, herself had to do would be to change. She fell back onto the large bed, sighing in relief at the comfortable mattress beneath her. 

Lizzie could certainly get used to being Mrs. Darcy. 

A knock at the door to the right of her bed pulled her from her thoughts, rising from her bed and opening the door. It was, as she thought, a door adjoining the master and mistress’ bedrooms. Her husband stood at the door, waiting for her to invite him into her space. 

“Please, come in.” She opened the door wide and allowed him into the bedroom. Mr. Darcy walked in and Lizzie shut the door behind him. He began to pace the room, his hands behind his back. “Is something troubling you, sir?” 

“Mr. Bingley has written to me. He intends to take me up on an offer of hosting him and his sister, Miss Bingley, until December.” 

Though Lizzie did not care for Miss Bingley and was rather annoyed at the prospect of Mr. Bingley, who had broken her dear sister’s heart, being at her new home; this did not explain his troubled expression. “Yes? That is not terrible news. You are dear friends with Mr. Bingley. Is there something you are not telling me?” 

He nodded, running a hand through his dark brown hair. “Yes…yes…I’m afraid my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam is coming sooner than expected.” Mr. Darcy turned to face Lizzie. “He is joined by my aunt, Lady Catherine and the good Parson and his wife.” 

That was bad news, indeed.

Chapter Text

Lizzie knew very well from Charlotte’s letters that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was rather…eccentric. While her best friend was not cruel or needlessly mean in her descriptions, Charlotte was honest to a fault. Lizzie had meant to visit Charlotte in April but her plans had been derailed by Lydia running away. 

There were a total of three letters in Mr. Darcy’s hand, two of which had been opened, the third addressed to her in Charlotte’s hand. He handed them over to Lizzie, urging her to read them as he continued to pace. The first two letters were from Mr. Collins and Colonel Fitzwilliam respectively. Mr. Collins’ letter was nothing more than chiding Mr. Darcy for the hasty marriage and accusing him of concealing his wife from Lady Catherine. Colonel Fitzwilliam–whom Lizzie was delighted to see had a great sense of humor–warned Mr. Darcy that their party was arriving shortly to Pemberley. Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins seemed to be equally hostile about the situation but Colonel Fitzwilliam sent his regards and claimed he was eager to finally meet the woman he had heard so much about. Finally, Lizzie opened Charlotte’s letter.

Lizzie, 

I am unsure as to why we are traveling to Pemberley with such haste considering news of your marriage was made public knowledge six whole months ago! Nevertheless, Mr. Collins and Lady Catherine de Bourgh are most furious. I feel it is my duty to warn you ahead of time that they are in such poor spirits. 

I, on the other hand, am eager to see you once more. I have so enjoyed your letters and hearing how married life has treated you thus far. I have some exciting news to share with you upon my arrival.

 Colonel Fitzwilliam has assured me that Mr. Darcy is a kind and generous man. I pray he is correct but I am certain he must be if he married you to save you and your sisters. 

I will see you very soon. Take care, dear heart.

All my love,

Charlotte

Lizzie smiled as she closed the letter, happy that Charlotte would be by her side and wondering what news she had to share. This feeling was soon replaced by anxiety once more. Hosting Lady Catherine? When she had not hosted anyone at all? She felt as if she could join Mr. Darcy in his pacing. 

“Fitzwilliam?” He turned around suddenly, his brow knit together in concern. Lizzie had decided she must be the source of strength for her husband. “It will be alright, let’s prepare for the arrival of our friends, immediately. I will call Mrs. Reynolds and we will arrange for everything to be taken care of. I am certain you must have work to do, yourself. Please be assured, I will take care of everything.” 

Mr. Darcy swallowed thickly, a look of uncertainty painted on his face. He was silent for several moments before nodding curtly. “I am certain if you put your mind to it, you will succeed.” He looked, almost, for a moment as if he wanted to say something more. Or reach out and touch her. Instead, he moved stiltedly out of her room and back into his own bedroom. 

There was much work to be done at Pemberley, it seemed. 

— — — — — 

Mrs. Reynolds was exasperated at the news of Lady Catherine’s arrival but did her best to hide it as she guided Lizzie through all the expectations the following morning. Georgiana, too, seemed rather annoyed at the prospect of seeing her aunt so soon after her departure from Rosings Park. Mrs. Reynolds got to work ordering the staff to prepare the guest wing while Georgiana and Lizzie ordered supper. A telegraph came in from Bingley saying he, too, would be there at the same time as Lady Catherine and her party. Six guests at once would be quite the challenge but Georgiana gave Lizzie confidence they would succeed. 

Colonel Fitzwilliam, unlike the other guests, had a room in the family wing as Georgiana’s guardian. Lady Catherine, of course, had to have the grandest room in the guest wing. Charlotte and Mr. Collins would share a room and only two other rooms would need to be prepared for Mr. and Miss Bingley. Supper was another matter, multiple courses needed to be prepared on short notice and both Lizzie and Georgiana were worried they would not be prepared in time. Nonetheless, they ordered the courses and prepared the kitchen as best they possibly could. 

She kept the acquisition to herself, but Lizzie suspected this surprise visit was to test her worthiness as the wife of the great Fitzwilliam Darcy and mistress of such a powerful estate. About a week or two after their engagement, Lizzie had discovered the extent of her new husband’s wealth. Not only did he own half of Derbyshire, his annual earnings far exceeded the £10,000 he had been rumored to have. He revealed the £10,000 was from worse performing years but that he preferred not to reveal the actual amount of his income. It was, in reality, £60,000 was the usual annual income for Mr. Darcy with all his land and factories. Lizzie promised not to share this knowledge with anyone but found herself having to lie down for a while after finding out just how rich her soon-to-be husband was. He was not only above her station but he had more money than Lizzie or her sisters could ever dream of. And he sacrificed the chance to have a wife that suited his status to marry her. It was no surprise Lady Catherine would object to the marriage. 

After supper was settled for the day and the staff had been instructed to buy more food for the following week, Lizzie set out to find her husband. Georgiana told her that Mr. Darcy was most likely in his study or the library if he were inside but to not be surprised if he were out somewhere talking to tenants. His study was, surprisingly, in the family wing, close to their bedrooms. Mr. Darcy was indeed inside his study when his commanding voice ordered her to come in after knocking on the door. 

He was hunched over his desk, looking at the papers sitting directly below his chin, a few strands of his hair fallen from its place and sitting on his forehead. The state of his desk was an organized chaos, not messy but various stacks of papers sat upon the rich mahogany desk. When the door opened and there was no voice accompanying it, Mr. Darcy looked up, immediately standing when he saw it was Lizze. She had seen him in a state of undress on their wedding night, of course, but this felt more intimate. His frock coat was hung up on the rack in the corner of the room and he was in his navy blue waistcoat, instead. His cravat was undone, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, leaving his usually put-together appearance nowhere to be found. In addition to the strands of hair that fell on his forehead, his hair was messy as if he had continuously ran his hands through it. 

“Lizzie? Is something the matter?” He asked, crossing the room to walk over to her. “Your face is rather flushed, why don’t you sit down, I’ll get you a glass of water.” Lizzie found herself obeying him, sitting on one of the leather couches in front of his desk as Mr. Darcy poured her a glass of water. 

“I trust you’ve been busy with preparing for my aunt’s sudden arrival?” He asked, taking a seat next to her on the couch. This was the most comfortable the two had ever been, it was so strange. 

She took a sip of water, nodding her head slowly. “Indeed, I am worried it will not live up to expectations.” 

“Oh, it will not live up to expectations, whatsoever.” He said, matter-of-factly. Lizzie’s face fell at his words. “Do not take that as an assessment on your skills as a hostess. I fear that nothing will ever be good enough for Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I am certain you have done well, nonetheless.” 

“I ordered all the courses Georgiana advised me to, I assume this is an occasion I am meant to dress up more than I would for a simple supper for the two of us?” 

He nodded, “I am afraid so. I know you acquired a number of new dresses when we married that are more than fit for the occasion, but I had a dress made for our first party together. I had hoped it wouldn’t happen until after we had settled into our home together, but now is as good a time as any.” 

“You had a dress made for me?” Darcy nodded once more. “May I see it?” 

“Of course.” He rose from his seat and opened the door to what appeared to be a small closet in the study. “It’ll need to be starched, of course, but I hope it is to your liking.” Darcy grabbed the dress, a beautiful yet sensible evening gown. Upon first glance, one might think Mr. Darcy was neglecting his wife by gifting her such a simple gown but it suited Lizzie very well. It was a dark blue color with a pleated skirt and the fashionable basque waistline. The neckline was modest yet stylish with ruffles. Parts of the hemline were lifted slightly into an arch and decorated with small pink flowers in the center of each arch. The dress was made with care and with Lizzie’s tastes in mind. How had he known so much about her and he was still almost a stranger? 

“Oh, Fitzwilliam…this dress is beautiful…”

“Your sisters, Jane and Kitty helped me design it. The flowers were Kitty’s touch, in particular.” 

“I can hardly believe you had this made for me, this fits my tastes perfectly.” Lizzie was in awe as she took the gown from him. “Is this material from your factory?” 

Darcy stared at her for a moment before nodding curtly. “If it is not up to your standards–

“No, no, it is perfect. It’s a Darcy original creation, from the design to the materials.” It was, truly, perfect to Lizzie. “Oh…by the by, supper is to be at 7, this should be enough time for our guests to freshen up after their journeys.” Lizzie looked at the grandfather clock behind the couch on the opposite side of the room. It was barely 1 pm and the guests would be at Pemberley around 5:30. She attempted to quell the anxiety that rose in her, turning to her husband and giving him a smile. “I heard you did not eat breakfast this morning. Let us have our luncheon together?” 

Darcy agreed and Lizzie called for their meal to be brought to the study. He told her about some issues his colleagues were having with some of the workers at nearby factories in London, which seemed to be the cause of his disheveled appearance. “The workers at our factories are not unhappy, but the nearby ones seem to be having issues with their employees desiring to go on strike. I’ve heard some of my colleagues do not take care of their employees.” 

“That is a shame, really. What have you proposed to be done about it?” Lizzie asked, taking a sip of the tea set in front of her. 

Darcy sighed, “I told them how our factories are run, the wages our employees make, the precautions we take.” 

“And your colleagues are less than willing to take your advice?” 

He nodded, “they believe I’m some sort of spoiled gentleman with no knowledge of how real business should be done. I may be a gentleman, Lizzie, but owning land is as much of a business as running a factory is.” 

He was right, of course. The men who owned factories were more like her Uncle Gardiner who made their fortunes in trades rather than having inherited it like her father or husband. It was a different attitude between Uncle Gardnier and Mr. Bennet, the latter of the two having less funds and less cares about what happens to his belongings. Mr. Darcy had inherited his fortune, of course, but had far exceeded his original inheritance. 

“It is, as you said on the train, the world is changing. I have many people to provide for and do my best to ensure they are well taken care of.” 

“That is most noble of you, Fitzwilliam.” Darcy grimaced behind his teacup and Lizzie raised a brow. “Is something the matter?” 

“I do not think it is noble to take care of those who rely on you. It is your duty.” He grumbled, setting his now empty tea-cup down. 

“I am afraid, Fitzwilliam, that you may be the exception and not the rule to that statement.” She mused, filling his cup with more tea. 

They both knew who the other was referring to: Mr Bennet. In the weeks leading up to their wedding, Darcy had discovered that Longbourn was making far less than it was capable of and set out to assist Mr. Bennet. Of course, the older man fervently denied his help but after a talk Lizzie was not allowed to be privy to, the men came to an agreement. Longbourn improved under Darcy’s advice, much to the chagrin of Mr. Bennet. Lizzie had questioned her husband a week into their marriage about it and he was less than forthcoming about what he and Mr. Bennet had spoken about; only that her sisters would be taken care of now.  It was no secret that her father had virtually no interest in affairs outside of his books and plants, but Lizzie adored him, nonetheless and Mr. Bennet adored Lizzie. It was precisely why Darcy would not share the details with her, he could not bear to break her heart. 

Though Lizzie did not know much about her husband she had observed that he had quite a bit of responsibility but shouldered it well. He didn’t do anything for the sake of martyrdom, he did it out of a sense of duty. Perhaps even out of love. 

“Perhaps you are right about that, dearest…is that an endearment I am allowed?” He quirked a brow. 

“Are you…making a joke?” 

“Perhaps…but am I allowed that endearment despite it being close to ‘my dear’, nonetheless?” 

Lizzie flashed him a toothy grin, “it is not so much like ‘my dear’. I will allow dearest as an endearment. You may pick any other endearments save for ‘my dear’.” 

“Ah,” a smirk spread across his face as he brought his teacup to his lips, leaning over instead of sitting perfectly as he had been. “This is most enlightening, I will be sure to record this information for later.” 

She stared at him for a moment, her head tilted to the side before remarking, “You are quite a jester, sir.” 

“Only when I have things to jest about, dearest Lizzie.” 

They smiled at each other for a moment before she noticed he hadn’t eaten anything. “Sir, you have not touched your meal at all but have had three cups of tea!” Lizzie exclaimed, pushing a platter of finger sandwiches and vegetables towards him. She had purposely ordered a lighter fare to not burden the kitchen and to allow Darcy to work through his luncheon. 

He set the teacup down and picked up a sandwich, trying to gracefully eat while flipping through the paperwork on the table. Clearly aware of the lack of propriety but still attempting to preserve some dignity and grace in front of his wife. Lizzie pushed her own platter away, her appetite having disappeared when she looked over the menus for the rest of the week. 

“Lizzie, you must eat, as well.” Darcy spoke softly. 

She shook her head, “I am not hungry.” 

“Are you anxious about this evening?” She nodded and Darcy set his papers aside, rising from the couch and crossing the room to grab his frock-coat then his overcoat. “Let’s go for a walk. I remember how much you liked walking in London during the day.” 

Lizzie couldn’t help but light up at the prospect of going on a walk in the countryside. She had indeed gone on daily walks in London but the air was smoggy and stifling. The country air would do her much better. “I’ll go fetch my coat and bonnet!” 

They met outside the study, both dressed appropriately for the outing. Darcy led her to the foyer where they both put on their hats before exiting the house. As Lizzie expected, the air outside the estate was just what she needed and felt herself wanting to bounce with excitement at being able to walk in the grass. 

“You seem rather eager to be outside, dearest.” Darcy observed as he led them down the stone steps. “You must have missed the country in town.” 

“I did indeed miss the country. I fear you married a common farm girl who does not care overly for town.” 

“Most unfortunate as Pemberley is farther from Meryton than London.” Darcy remarked as they walked over a hill. “It must be difficult to be so far from your family.” 

“It was convenient that my Uncle and Aunt Gardiner live in town and we were not so far from Meryton.” Lizzie took in a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. “We are not so far from my family now, the trains make the distance shorter.” 

“What do you love most about Meryton?” 

“Hmm…I loved the balls we had there. I enjoy the landscape, to be sure, but I loved dancing with my friends.” Lizzie turned to her husband, the hint of a grimace on his face. “Do you dance, Fitzwilliam?” 

“Oh, not if I can help it.” 

“Why, sir? I am certain you are skilled at dancing as the grandson of an Earl.” 

Darcy could not help the half-smile that spread across his face at his wife’s words. “Oh, I am certainly able to dance but do not enjoy it. When you are as large as I am, you tend to draw attention to yourself on the dance floor.” He laughed humorlessly. “The entire assembly will be able to see if you make a mistake.” 

“Are you so proud that you could not take a little teasing for misstepping during a dance?” Lizzie and her sisters were all quite tall for young ladies so she was well acquainted with unwanted attention on her while dancing. Many times she had heard the teasing from neighbors about stepping on a partner’s toes. 

“I…I suppose I could take it, for the right partner, that is.” His cheeks were red, now, whether it was from the exercise or their conversation, Lizzie could not say. 

“Well, I suppose we could always practice if we want to avoid being exposed to censure.” She grinned. 

“That is an idea I would be amenable to.” 

They kept their walk rather short as they both had work to get back to. Their conversation stayed to topics such as the weather or the upcoming holidays. Eventually, they returned to the house and their work, having appreciated the break. 

— — — — — 

Mr. and Miss Bingley were the first guests to arrive. Miss Bingley was dressed most ostentatiously, a sky blue day dress with a neckline so low and a bust so tight, she was sure it would cause scandal with both Lady Catherine and Mr. Collins when they arrived. Lizzie silently prayed that Miss Bingley’s evening dress would be more modest. She would not be able to stand a lecture on modesty from her cousin this evening. 

Mr. Bingley greeted Lizzie and Darcy with his usual friendly smile but had an apologetic sort of demeanor. “Mrs. Darcy, it is so good to see you, again. I trust your family is in good health?” The blond man asked after kissing Lizzie’s hand in greeting. She knew precisely who he was inquiring after and had to hold back from frowning. 

“It is good to see you, as well, sir. My family are all in good health, I thank you.” She offered him a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Miss Bingley greeted her next with a kiss to each of her cheeks. “Miss Bingley, it is good to see you, as well.” 

The blonde woman’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes either as she greeted Lizzie. “Indeed, so good to see you, Mrs. Darcy. Have you enjoyed married life thus far?” 

“I have, indeed, thank you, Miss Bingley.” She turned toward the entrance of their home. “I shall show you to your rooms so you can freshen up before we take supper.” Darcy squeezed her elbow before departing from the party. 

“I see that Pemberley is the same as it was the last time we were here.” Miss Bingley remarked. 

“Caroline, they have been in London for the past six months.” Mr. Bingley reminded his sister. 

“Ah, of course. Mrs. Darcy, do you plan to redecorate?” 

Lizzie pondered it for a moment, she could perhaps change the curtains or change the wallpaper in some rooms. She mostly wanted to leave the house as it was, it was so beautiful on its own. 

“Perhaps after Christmastide, Miss Bingley. I may change some wallpaper or curtains but Pemberley is so beautiful already, is it not?” 

Miss Bingley agreed, “indeed. I would most definitely change some of the wallpapers, they are most outdated.” 

“Caroline!” Mr. Bingley warned, his tone sharp, something Lizzie had never heard before. “I apologize, Mrs. Darcy.” 

“Not at all, there are some things that have fallen out of fashion, to be sure. But I am more appreciative of classic styles.” Lizzie led them into the guest wing, and showed them to their rooms. “Supper is to be at 7, but should you need anything in the meantime, please do not hesitate to call on me.” 

The siblings thanked her and she retreated to the kitchens to check on the staff. Miss Bingley was already on her nerves and she had not been at Pemberley for even a quarter of an hour. Mr. Bingley, on the other hand, seemed to be treading lightly. He seemed to be acutely aware of his actions and how they impacted her sister. Lizzie was content for the time being to allow him to do so. 

It was not soon after Lizzie had exited the kitchens that a footman informed her of the arrival of Lady Catherine and her party. She thanked the man and took a deep breath, attempting to ground herself before marching towards the entrance to meet her husband. Darcy was already outside and greeted his wife with a kiss to her hand, strategically so as the carriage the rest of her guests were arriving in came to a halt in front of the stone steps. The first out of the grand carriage was Mr. Collins, followed by another man; he was tall with broad shoulders and lighter brown hair and had a nose similar to Darcy’s. Lizzie surmised this must be Colonel Fitzwilliam. 

“William!” The taller man greeted her husband with a wide grin and a handshake before turning his attention to Lizzie. “This must be the new Mrs. Darcy whom I have heard so much about. William does go on and on about you in his letters–

“Ahem!” A shrill voice came from the carriage behind the man. 

“Ah, one moment. Coming, Lady Aunt.” The man rolled his eyes and stalked over to the carriage, assisting an older woman wearing a large bonnet with frills and lace to rival Miss Bingley’s ball gowns. She had a long, pointy nose that was too large for her face and a small mouth. Her beady eyes narrowed in on Lizzie as she stalked over to her. 

Darcy bowed and Lizzie curtsied at his cue to the woman. “Lady Aunt,” her husband greeted curtly. “I trust your journey was well?” 

“It was not well, Fitzwilliam Darcy! I can hardly believe that you ran off and married some country bumpkin when you were to marry my Anne.” Lady Catherine turned to Lizzie, “you’re very tall for a young woman. What an…eccentric color your hair is, as well.” 

“I think it’s rather pretty, Lady Aunt. Do any of your sisters have that same color, Mrs. Darcy?” The possible Colonel smirked behind Lady Catherine. 

“I thank you, sir. I am the only daughter blessed with, as Lady Catherine says, such an eccentric hair color.” Lizzie smiled at the older woman in front of her, it not quite reaching her eyes. 

“Well, it suits you very well, Mrs. Darcy.” The man stepped forward and bowed before taking Lizzie’s hand and planting a kiss to her knuckles. “I am Richard Fitzwilliam, your husband’s cousin.” 

“A pleasure to meet you Colonel Fitzwilliam, I have heard much about you.” 

“All good things, I hope?” Colonel Fitzwilliam winked at Darcy who rolled his eyes. 

“Indeed, sir. I am happy to put a face to the name.” 

“Oh, William, you did not mention in your letters that your wife was so skilled at flattery.” The colonel chided. 

Darcy scoffed from his spot next to Lizzie. “Skilled at flattery, indeed. She said she was glad to meet you, Dickie.” He took a moment to step forward and greet the remaining members of the party. “Parson Collins, Mrs. Collins, it is good to see you, once more.” 

The couple greeted Darcy in return. Mr. Collins gave a cool greeting to the pair before Charlotte stepped forward and hugged Lizzie tightly. 

“Charlotte!” Her voice cracked as she embraced her friend. 

“Oh, Lizzie! It is so good to see you!” Charlotte cried as she crushed Lizzie in the hug. Before she realized it, tears were rolling down her face. 

“Let’s go inside, shall we?” Darcy’s low voice pulled the women away from their hug and Lizzie discreetly wiped at her tears before Lady Catherine could scold her for the lack of propriety shown in front of guests. When they were finally inside and Lizzie and Darcy were next to each other, she whispered, 

“Thank you.” 

“You are most welcome, dearest.” 

— — — — — 

It was finally time for supper, the first time Lizzie would officially be hosting guests as the mistress of Pemberley. Everything was in order, the staff were all prepared, the courses were ready, she was dressed in a manner befitting her new station. All that was left was to, well, go through with supper. 

She descended the stairs and saw her husband waiting for her at the bottom. Lizzie could not help but feel her face flush at the look on Darcy’s face. The dress he gifted her suited her perfectly. The deep blue color complimented her creamy complexion and red hair. She had pinned her hair up in a bun and decorated it with a few flower pins in a color similar to the ones on her hem. Not one for jewelry, Lizzie only wore her simple gold wedding band and pearl earrings. Darcy took her hand as she reached the landing and opened his mouth to speak. 

“Mrs. Darcy, you look absolutely ravishing!” Colonel Fitzwilliam cut off his cousin, earning him a glare from the taller man. 

Lizzie laughed, “I thank you, sir. It is due to my husband’s wonderful design.” 

“William, you designed the dress?”

“I had help, but yes, I designed my wife’s dress, Dickie.”

“I say, William, you’ve quite outdone yourself.” Colonel Fitzwilliam clapped him on the shoulder with a mischievous grin. 

“Thank you, Dickie.” Darcy grit his teeth and gently pulled Lizzie to his side. “Let’s have supper, shall we?” 

Darcy and Lizzie were unable to sit next to each other, instead taking a place at the head of the table. Fortunately, they were in a smaller dining room with a smaller table, meaning they were not so far away from each other. Unfortunately, Mr. Collins sat at her left side. However, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who sat at her right, provided enjoyable and lively conversation.  

“This is truly your first time organizing a meal such as this, Mrs. Darcy?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked after the fourth course had been cleared.

“Indeed, sir. I did have help from Georgiana and Mrs. Reynolds so I was not completely out of my depth.” 

“It’s painfully obvious, my dear girl, that this is your first time as a hostess. This is a rather basic spread.” Lady Catherine quipped from her spot next to Darcy.

“Well, perhaps, your ladyship, it would have been more to your tastes had you not given us such a short amount of time to prepare.” Lizzie replied before her husband could chide his aunt. The incredulous look on Lady Catherine’s face was worth the awkward silence that spread across the table. She was worried, for a moment, that her husband might scold her but he said nothing. Instead, it looked as if he were holding back a smirk. 

Lady Catherine wisely chose not to comment further on the matter, knowing she was in the wrong for the short notice. After the fifth course was served, Miss Bingley, instead, spoke up. “I heard your youngest sister, Miss Lydia is married?” 

“Yes, Miss Bingley. She married a man in the militia, they reside in the north.” 

“Quite a scandal, I heard.” Lady Catherine cut in, the clatter of silverware ceasing at the comment. “I was shocked to hear that my dear nephew married a woman with a fallen sister. To think the shades of Pemberley to be thus polluted!” 

“Oh, she is not fallen, Lady Aunt.” Darcy remarked, taking a sip of his wine. All eyes turned to him. “Did you not hear Miss Bingley say Lydia is married?” 

“To George Wickham, I heard!” 

Georgiana stiffened. Though she was not ignorant to whom Lydia had married or the reason why her brother had married Lizzie, the subject of Wickham was still a sore spot for her. Lizzie sat up straight, clenching her back teeth to keep herself from saying something she might regret. Lydia may be immature and had made a decision that could have ruined them all, she was still Lizzie’s sister. 

“How is your family, Lizzie? I trust they are in good health?” Charlotte changed the subject, quickly.

“Quite, thank you, Charlotte. How is your family?” 

“They are quite well, themselves. I received a letter from Maria before we left Huntsford. She said Mary has become quite the talent at piano and has been tutoring my sister to help her improve her own playing.” Charlotte smiled brightly. Lizzie was so relieved to hear good news about her family from her neighbors. 

“I had heard the same.” Mr. Bingley spoke up. “My acquaintances in Meryton spoke highly of Miss Jane’s performance at the hunt this year. She reportedly took the most foxes.” 

“Indeed, sir?” Colonel Fitzwilliam spoke up. “Your sister, Mrs. Darcy sounds like quite an enigma. I should rather like to meet her, myself.” 

“Oh, Jane is very talented at sports. She is quite skilled at riding horses, a skill I do not possess, myself.” Lizzie beamed at the ability to talk so positively about her sisters. “I miss my sisters terribly but it has been such a blessing to have Georgiana. She is a wonderful addition to my life.” 

Georgiana flushed, “thank you, Lizzie. I am so happy my brother brought me home such a wonderful sister.” 

Darcy was rather pleased the conversation had steered in the right direction. His wife was happy, his aunt and Miss Bingley were not speaking, all was well. Until Mr. Collins decided to speak up.

“I trust married life has treated you well thus far, dear cousin?” 

“It has, Mr. Collins.”

“I am rather surprised we have not heard any more good news, though.” 

Charlotte’s eyes widened at her husband’s words. “What on Earth do you mean by that, Parson?” Darcy asked in a commanding tone.

“Well, your marriage was so unexpected I had assumed it was born of love. Or perhaps of a certain necessity.” Mr. Collins remarked as Charlotte looked as if she wanted to be anywhere but the table. “I had thought you would be expecting an heir.” 

Georgiana gasped and the table fell silent. “Mr. Collins!” Lizzie exclaimed. “That is hardly appropriate subject matter for this—

“He is only saying what we are all thinking, Elizabeth.” Lady Catherine spoke. “My nephew had no reason to marry you if not for an heir. Where is this heir? Or did you lie to him to trap my nephew knowing he would take responsibility?”

Colonel Fitzwilliam tried to stop her, saying, “Lady Aunt, that is quite enough—

“Where is this child, Elizabeth? Your stomach is as flat as an orphan’s. You must have trapped him in this marriage. That is why the servants from Darcy house tell me you have not lain together since your wedding!”

“Lady Aunt!” Georgiana exclaimed but Mr. Collins cut in.

“You have not consummated your marriage? You know how important it is—

“Oh they have consummated it, all right. But there is not an heir to be seen! Are you incapable of doing the only thing country girls like you are good at? Rolling around in the hay?”

Lizzie felt hot tears threaten to spring forth as Lady Catherine continued her assault. Mr. Collins cut in and reminded Lizzie of her marital duties. “Oh she knows very well about those duties, Mr. Collins. It is only that my nephew has regained his senses far too late and refuses to lie with this harlot . Did she lie to you or did she get rid of it—

“That is enough!” Darcy exclaimed, slamming his fist on the dining table and startling everyone. 

“She got rid of it, I see—

“You do not see, Lady Catherine! You do not know what you are speaking so freely about! You have barged into my home and insulted my family and accused me of seducing my husband and getting rid of my own child. You have insulted me in every possible way and can now have nothing further to say to me, I must ask you to leave at daybreak.” Lizzie gritted out as she threw down her napkin before storming out of the dining room. 

Darcy chased after his wife as she ran up the stairs, not missing the loud sputtering of his aunt sounding from the dining room. Lizzie ran into her bedroom and tried to slam the door behind her but Darcy caught it. “Elizabeth, I am so, so sorry for her behavior.”

“Your aunt and Mr. Collins are right, you know.” She sniffled, sitting up to face him.

His face twisted into a look of anger. “Right? What on Earth could they be right about?” Darcy growled. 

“We have not lain together since our wedding night. Our marriage may be arranged out of convenience but we have nothing to show for it!” Lizzie rose from the bed, crossing the room to get in his space. “I was under the impression that husband and wives were supposed to engage in the marital act to grow closer! But you won’t visit my room at night! Am I that disappointing of a bride?” 

“Elizabeth!” He exclaimed, backing her up against the wall before taking a deep breath. 

“Elizabeth…”his voice was low as he leaned over her, seemingly having pinned her against the wall of her bedroom. “You do not know what you ask of me.” 

“But you never visit or call on me at night! Why?” 

“I do not…” His head dropped and his voice cracked. “I do not wish to make you uncomfortable or…or…hurt you…again.” He stood up straight and dropped his arm, no longer trapping her. 

Lizzie sighed, walking over to the armchair by the hearth. “Fitzwilliam…you did not hurt me nor did you make me uncomfortable.” 

“I…you…we lost our child…” His face was crestfallen and it looked as if there were tears in his eyes. She understood what this was about. He felt responsible for the miscarriage. 

“It was two months into a marriage between strangers that was entered into under duress. Fitzwilliam, come here.” Lizzie commanded and the man obeyed her immediately, kneeling at her feet. From this angle, he didn’t look like the big, strong, intimidating master of the house. Rather, he had a boyish look on his face, one of fear, almost. She took a deep breath and reached forward, running her fingers through his dark brown hair. He stiffened for a moment before quickly relaxing under her touch, eventually laying his head in her lap. “William…it is not uncommon for women to lose their children so early into a pregnancy, especially under duress. I did not know I was with child until that morning when we had already lost them.”  

“It was my fault.” 

“No! It was no one’s fault! There was nothing that you could have done to prevent it, William.” She rubbed his back while he refused to raise his head to look at her. “Look at me, William.” With enough prodding, he finally raised his head to look up at her. His blue eyes were dark and red with tears, he looked heartbroken. Lizzie laid her hand on his cheek and Darcy leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. 

“I do not want you to think I am not sad or upset about losing our child, I certainly am.” She spoke softly, trying not to cry. It was heartbreaking to realize she had lost the life she was bringing into the world before she knew the life was within her. Darcy opened his mouth to say something but she spoke before he could. “That does not mean I hold you at fault for the loss. These things happen, at times. We cannot make a child if we do not try.” 

“Elizabeth…how could I ever force you to go through that again? I forced you into this marriage and made you lie with me.” 

“Forced me into this marriage? Made me lie with you? Fitzwilliam Darcy! You did no such thing!” Lizzie exclaimed incredulously. “You have said it yourself, if I find no use in something, I will not do it. You forced me into nothing, I married you of my own free will and consummated our marriage willingly. If I felt forced, why would I ask you why you have not visited my room since May?” 

Darcy opened his eyes, searching Lizzie’s face for any sign of deceit. There was none. “Truly? You would truly lie with me again after all I’ve done to you?” 

“After all you’ve done to me? You mean save my family from destitution and make me the mistress of your ancestral home without a second thought? Mr. Darcy, you have done nothing but treat me with kindness and put my needs above yours.”

"That does not mean you need to lie with me because you feel you owe me a debt, Lizzie. You could never so much as look my way again and I would still stay true to you." 

"I do not feel as if I owe you a debt of any kind. I am grateful, truly, for all you have done for me. But this is not born from a feeling of mere gratitude. It is from a desire to be close to you." She took a deep breath once more and a chance, leaning in to press her lips to his. Darcy stiffened for a moment before returning the chaste kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer. After a moment, the two pulled away to catch their breath. “Do you understand how I feel, Fitzwilliam?” 

He nodded, sheepishly leaning in to kiss her once more. “Mrs. Darcy…may I stay the night in your room?” 

Lizzie’s cheeks reddened but she nodded, “yes, Mr. Darcy. You may stay the night in my room.” 

— — — — — 

Lizzie awoke in the morning by the light peeking in through the curtains. It was too early and too cold to get up and she was so warm this morning. Her head lay on the bare chest of her husband and she blushed at the realization. Darcy was in her bed and she was laying atop him, at least half of her body. He must have been strong indeed to support her weight all night without moving her off. For a moment, Lizzie was upset that Darcy had not slept with her before. He was as warm as a furnace and warmed her better than any warming pan could. 

“Elizabeth?” Mr. Darcy’s sleep-ladened voice filled her ears as he lifted his head and took in his surroundings. His voice was even deeper in the morning and reverberated through his chest. “Good morning, dearest.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. 

“Good morning, darling.” She whispered back, curling into his arms. If she could have her way, she’d spend the entire day like this, warm in her bed with her husband. Lizzie felt like she was beginning to understand him more in the past two days than she had in the past six months. 

A loud pounding at the door startled the both of them and Lizzie jumped from her bed and quickly threw on her dressing gown over her nightgown, not bothering to tie it. She opened the door, just a bit to obscure the knocker’s view of Darcy. At the door was a disheveled Mrs. Reynolds with a telegram in her hand. 

“Mrs. Darcy, ma’am…I’m sorry to disturb you and the master so early in the morning…” Mrs. Reynolds said, out of breath. Lizzie wanted to ask how she knew Darcy was in her bedroom but it was not the time. 

“It is no trouble, Mrs. Reynolds. What is the matter?” 

“Your family, ma’am. They are on their way.”