Love and dissapointments

Chapter I

In that time a wife was to be subservient to her husband, for it was common knowledge that he was the head of the household. Her husband instructed her on the way he wanted his home, the way he wanted to dress, and the rules of the house. Among young women, though, it was also common knowledge that the wife was in fact (though most husbands would vehemently disagree) the runner of the household. For it was she that made sure the dinner was planned properly, she that instructed the servants, she that kept the man's home comfortable. The Darcy's found this to be a comfortable system, though deviating was not unwelcome.

Elizabeth Darcy stared out the window, blinking at the fog that furled around Pemberly, hiding the raindrops in its cold mists. She jumped as the book that had rested firmly in her hands slipped and thumped to the floor. For a moment she contemplated whether she should retrieve it from its unseemly resting place, but decided against it. After all, she should be sitting up primly in her chair, but she wasn't. What made slumping in a chair any different from picking a book up off the floor? The perpetual fog held her gaze and enveloped her mind in a blank haze.

Suddenly a large, dark shape lumbered out of the shapeless, gray air. It took her hazy mind a moment to register that it was a carriage that had emerged from the fog. Darcy's carriage.

She leapt up from her chair, knocking it over in her rush. As quickly as properly possible, Elizabeth hurried from the room. Her rapid footsteps echoed in quick succession through the halls as she hurried to the top of the stairs, her ears alert for the slightest sound in the hall below.

The hallway clock ticked loudly, mocking every moment that she stood statue-like, waiting breathlessly. An interminable time passed before a knock came at the door and the butler, Rensler, hurried to the door.

Elizabeth listened as she heard the door unlocked and opened. How long did it take to unlock a door?

“Good evening, Mr. Darcy, Miss Georgiana,” Rensler said clearly.

She heard Darcy return Renslers's greeting and then Georgiana's higher voice as she entered behind her brother.

Darcy appeared at the foot of the steps, a slight smile on his face. Elizabeth's breath caught in her chest. She descended the steps calmly but when she reached the foot, she flung decorum aside and ran into his arms, feeling her feet lift off the floor as he swung her around.

“Did you miss me, dear one?” he murmured in her ear.

“How could I not?” She buried her head in his shoulder and inhaled the clean smell of the spices and shaving lather that clung to his clothing. How she had missed him.

He chuckled and pulled away from her. “Did you finish the last book I brought you?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Ages ago.” She felt his eyes linger on her as she turned to hug Georgiana, laughing as the girl tried to kiss her cheek, shrug off her cloak, and tell her about London all at the same time.

When Georgiana finally stopped to draw breath, Elizabeth chuckled. “I see you thoroughly enjoyed your stay in London, sister. Perhaps you ought to bathe and put on dry clothing. We can discuss your trip over supper. Mrs. Parsons told me there might be pheasant.”

Georgiana giggled. “You heard or instructed? No matter, I'll be down shortly.”

Elizabeth felt Darcy's arm slide around her waist as they watched Georgiana hurry up the steps.

“She couldn't wait to see you,” he said, drawing her close to his side.

“And do I suspect wrong that nor could you?” Elizabeth asked warmly, one eyebrow slightly raised.

He chuckled. “No, my dear Elizabeth, for you are rarely wrong.” He kissed her head. “I believe I shall bathe for supper.”

Elizabeth watched as he hurried up the stairs and turned the corner. She hurried off to the dining room to make sure all was in order.

Supper was an elegant affair, though there were only three diners. Darcy sat the head with his wife to his right and his sister to the left. The food before Georgiana slowly disappeared as she spent a large amount of time recounting her stay in London for Elizabeth's benefit, as Darcy had heard it all during their return carriage ride.

“The opera houses are truly magnificent,” she concluded after describing several of the operas she had attended.

Elizabeth drew the young girl into discussion about the themes the operas presented and soon Darcy joined them. It was late when Georgiana finally rose from the table, claiming that she would hardly be able to make it up the stairs for her sleepiness.

When the table had been cleared, Darcy leaned over and placed his hand over hers.

“You are well, Lizzy?”

Elizabeth stared at the hand that encompassed hers, the delicate, strong, long fingers, and the strength of their grip on hers.

“Why do you ask?” she murmured.

He tilted his head. “I missed looking at you each day. I missed your company, everything.” He stood and drew her hand up, making her rise from her seat.

“To our parlor?”

Elizabeth smiled up at her husband. “Need you ask?”

Darcy chuckled and led her to their usual after dinner haunt on the second floor. Inside the maids had started a delightful fire, setting the shadows of the room dancing to the crackling music of the flames. He took Elizabeth to the sofa and sat down, drawing her down beside him.

“What did you do while I was gone?” he asked as Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder and curled her feet up beside her.

“It's been overcast ever since you left, perhaps reflecting my mood at your departure,” she started lightly. He chuckled and began to draw the pins from her hair.

“I read several books, the last three of the seven that you brought me from London.”

“And did you enjoy them?”

“I was enthralled by Utopia. The idea of such a perfect place and yet questioning the very definition of perfection.”

“I thought you would enjoy it,” he murmured in her ear, massaging the back of her head as her freed curls tumbled down around his fingers. Elizabeth looked up and smiled at him.

“I did not enjoy the book you bought me on “a proper English lady's deportment. The very idea that a woman should not think but what her husband plants in her mind is preposterous!” She scowled at the fire as if it were responsible for the feather-brained ideas of indecisive women.

“I only wanted you to appreciate what it's like to have a husband like me.” Elizabeth turned suddenly and reached up, yanking Darcy's dark curls into his eyes as he laughed. The Darcy he revealed to her and Georgiana was so different from the Mr. Darcy that glared unsociably at every social function, no matter the occasion. His stiffness was beginning to wear off as he spent more and more time with his vivacious, beautiful, young wife, but still Elizabeth appreciated the playfulness he showed only to her.

“What? A husband that scares off all the guests at his own picnics?” she chaffed good-naturedly.

“No, just one who stares down all the young men who dare to even glance at his beautiful prize.”

“Oh and so I'm a prize? Is that it?” Elizabeth cried in mock anger.

“Some would say so,” conceded Darcy, his chocolate brown eyes serious, “but I would say the most beautiful woman in the universe who makes me more than I would be without her.”

He leaned down and his lips met hers, caressing them gently as his arms slid around her. He drew his lips from hers and rested his cheek against her warm one. “I missed you so much,” he murmured in her ear.

“And I you,” whispered Elizabeth, clinging to her husband. She'd always considered herself to be independent; free of the ties that bound her to a man. But as she rested in her husbands arms she realized that the man whose cheek rested against hers had bound her with the tightest rope that ever existed: unconditional love.

Elizabeth woke to the muffled sound of pattering rain. The quick, dainty footsteps of therain drops danced lightly across the roof to an unknown waltz. She kept her eyes shut lightly as she lay in bed, enjoying the feeling of complete relaxation. Though she wished she could lie abed all day, she knew she would have to rise in enough time for Sally to remake the bed, as Mr. Darcy hated returning to an unkempt mass of sheets in the evening.

She slid her hand across Darcy's vacated side to see if he had been up long enough for the mattress to loose the shape of his body; he'd always been an early riser. Her searching hand brushed a firm material, far different from the softness of the sheets. Reluctantly opening her eyes, Elizabeth found that her hand rested on a letter with her name on it. Even in the dim light, she recognized the neat, delicate handwriting of her older sister.

Eagerly, Elizabeth climbed out of the bed and lit the lamp over her vanity. She sat on the stool and unfolded the crisp letter.

Dearest Lizzie,

I hope this letter finds you in excellent hope. Mr. Bingley and I thoroughly enjoyed young Georgiana's stay with us, here in London.

Elizabeth continued on to read Jane's chatty and interesting correspondence, appreciating her sister's soft humor and interspersed anecdotes about her life with Mr. Bingley and his sister in London.

The end was an entirely different subject though.

And now I must raise a perhaps delicate issue with you. Georgiana may have told you that Kitty visited us during her stay. I observed that Kitty's rather vivacious manner was somewhat dulled in the presence of the quiet Georgiana. I believe that it would be prudent to temporarily remove Kitty from Lydia's influence as mother, and father, are far beyond the age to handle such a vivacious, young girl. The headache, humiliation, and near scandal caused by our younger sister and Mr. Wickham is not an experience I would care to repeat. Kitty is a good girl, but perhaps a bit too flighty. Mr. Bingley has graciously agreed with my proposal that Kitty come to stay with us for a while. I wondered if it would be disagreeable to you and Darcy if Kitty resided at Pemberley after her stay with us.

I eagerly await your response and hope all remains well.

Always yours with love,

Jane Bingley

Elizabeth reread the letter, agreeing with Jane that it would be best if Kitty were removed from Lydia's and their mother's influence.While she wanted to sit down and write a letter with a full-hearted affirmative of Jane's plan, she recognized that the decision belonged to Darcy and Georgiana as well.

She placed the letter on her vanity and set about preparing for the day before making her way to Darcy's study, the most likely place he would be on such a day.

When reached his study door, she found it closed. Gingerly she knocked, wondering if she were interrupting him. Elizabeth waited a few moments before the door was opened by her husband who smiled when he caught sight of her.

“So you decided to return to us from fairyland!” he teased as he usually did when she overslept.

Elizabeth smiled. “I nearly didn't—.” She was about to continue when she noticed that the smile on Darcy's lips did not rest in his eyes as usual when he was teasing.

“What's wrong?” she asked softly.

Darcy frowned as if debating whether or not to reveal something to her.

“What is it?” she demanded more urgently, wondering what her husband was hiding.

“Come in and look on my desk,” he said softly. She'd heard that tone once before, when he had tried to explain his feelings for her to her and she had rejected him. It was a mixture of anger, hurt, confusion, and tenderness. This time though, she felt that the anger wasn't fully directed towards her.

She stepped into his large study with several shelves of books and account records, a large sofa, and an elegant fire place. There was a large door adjoining it to the library. She walked over to his large mahogany desk and glanced over the papers Darcy had left out.

“Accounts?” she asked as Darcy came up behind her.

“No,” he said softly.

Elizabeth peered closer at the papers and once more that day, recognized the handwriting on the pages. Her face paled.

“Where did you get these?” she demanded, turning to him, knowing full well where he had gotten them.

“Perhaps you should tell me why you had hidden them in the first place,” he suggested.

“I—did you read my journal?” she insisted, trying to keep an accusatory tone from her voice as anger began to mount in her chest.

“No—,”

“Then how did you know about them?” Her eyes narrowed as her arms crossed one another across her chest.

“I went to get one of the books you had and accidentally knocked your journal from the shelf. These fell out. Why did you hide them?” His voice was even but tilting towards the haughty coldness that infiltrated his tone when he was angry.

Elizabeth swallowed. “I—I didn't want you to know about them,” she said softly.

“Is there anything else you don't want me to know about?” Darcy demanded harshly. Elizabeth wanted to cry, understanding why he was angry with her. It wasn't the letters; he felt as if she were hiding things from him.

“No, I promise.” Elizabeth felt her face pale further. “I know, I shouldn't have hidden them, but—.” She had no right to get angry with him. She knew he had not been snooping. He wouldn't violate her trust like that. It was she that had violated his trust. They'd agreed to discuss everything and she'd broken that promise.

Elizabeth went over to the sofa and sank onto it, burying her face in her hands.

“I—I was ashamed,” she sobbed. “All that you did for us when—when we—my family—could have been so humiliated and even after I had been so rude to you. And—and you told me,” she gulped, “you told me that you'd done it for me. But when I married you—I promised myself—I promised—I wouldn't burden you with my family issues. I'm sorry, Fitzwilliam, I never meant—,”

“Lizzie.” Darcy pulled her to him, letting her sob into his shoulder. “I'm not angry with you, or Lydia.”

Elizabeth sniffed. “I'm sorry, Darcy.”

“Why didn't you tell me?” he asked, stroking her back.

“You shouldn't have to handle my family's problems or rescue them from their ill decisions. You married me, not my family.”

“Elizabeth, your family is a part of you. I understood when I married you that I may not—er—agree with all of their concerns, but I would support you and thus, your family. After all, you have had your trials with my own family.” She frowned at this bitter addition, but said nothing as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. So far, Darcy and his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had refused to talk. He had taken his aunt's slurs against his wife with great insult, and despite Elizabeth's pressing, refused to correspond with the Lady.

“So what are you going to do?” She sat back, wiping her eyes.

Darcy shook his head and took her hands, his brown eyes meeting hers. “You mean, what are we going to do.” Anger flashed through his eyes for a moment as his face darkened. “It's Wickham that put Lydia up to this. He's gone and gotten himself into further debt and is having her appeal to you for help rather than admitting he's the—,”

Elizabeth laid her fingers on his lips, silencing his angry words.

“I understand your hatred for one another, dear one. But your anger and your kindness will not change the man he is.”

Darcy looked away from her and nodded. “What do you think we should do?”

Elizabeth frowned and stared at the fire, one of her hands still resting in Darcy's. “Send them enough money to get by for the month and a letter to Lydia stating that Wickham shall have to pay off his debts on his own, for we are not financially responsible for him.”

“You'd thought out that solution before?” Darcy asked softly.

She nodded, her face burning with shame.

“Well, I believe that's a suitable course of action. I will handle it after supper. And now we have another family issue to discuss.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“Jane.”

“What about Jane?”

Darcy grinned, his eyes dancing. “Mr. Bingley and I have spoken and agreed that it would be beneficial to both our wives if they were not so distantly separated.”

Elizabeth's lips parted in surprise. “You mean—,”

Her husband laughed. “Yes, Charles has bought an estate within thirty miles of ours so that you and Jane may visit as often as you like and Kitty may be shuttled between each of the estates. Perhaps in time she will prove a suitable companion for my sister, Georgiana.”

She threw her arms Darcy, thanking him effusively. The laughter that filled the room sharply contrasted the tension that had filled it but a few moments before.

Elizabeth waited in anticipation as Jane's move grew closer. With only two weeks left until her sister's arrival, it was all Elizabeth could do to prevent herself from marking each passing day by tying a piece of red yarn around her bedpost, as she and Jane had done in the days leading up to Christmas during their childhood. Within the first week of the news, she and Georgiana had chosen the new décor for the room which they had chosen for Kitty. Elizabeth had also redecorated two of the guest rooms to comfortably accommodate the Bingleys when they visited.

Meanwhile, life had to move on at Pemberley and that involved planning the large Christmas Ball to be held in December. Elizabeth sat beside Georgiana in the downstairs parlor looking over the array of beautiful fabrics the seamstress had arrayed on the table. They'd been at it for several hours now, trying to choose the perfect gown and colors simply for their Christmas gowns. It had taken only two hours for them to select their Twelfth Night ball gowns. The poor seamstress looked as if she were going through her last ounce of patience as Elizabeth and especially Georgiana, constantly changed their minds.

Finally, it seemed, the seamstress deemed it best that she intervene. Turning to Elizabeth, she said, “I would suggest a rich cranberry or forest green taffeta for you, Madam. And for the young Miss, this rich blue.”

The young woman held up a stunning, midnight blue swatch. Georgiana took it, holding it gingerly in her hand.

“It's beautiful,” she breathed. She looked to Elizabeth. “What do you think, Elizabeth?”

“It is beautiful, dear, and goes wonderfully with your cerulean eyes and dark hair.” Elizabeth smiled. “It's perfect.”

Georgiana handed the swatch back to the young seamstress. “Yes, this is the color I want and this is the dress I'd like.” She gently flipped through the pages of the woman's sketchbook until she found the one she was looking for. The seamstress smiled.

“Yes, that style will suit you well, Miss. But this gown is supposed to have a different colored bodice. I think the midnight blue bodice with white ribbons would go beautifully with a skirt of a blue that's about three shades lighter. The sleeves will also be accented with white lace.” Georgiana nodded and beamed as the young woman marked the page with the swatch of blue material and several notes.

Once the seamstress was finished with Georgiana's selection, the young girl turned to her older sister-in-law. “Elizabeth, I have the perfect dress for you!” Georgiana turned through the pages of the book, a look of concentration on her face.

“Here,” she said, pointing to the gown. Elizabeth took the book into her lap, studying the gown carefully. It was cut slightly lower than most of her gowns, but the narrow waist would gracefully accent Elizabeth's slim one. She smiled.

“If that is the one, which color shall I choose?”

Confidently Georgiana drew a swatch of material from the array. It was a deep cranberry taffeta. “It will go wonderfully, Elizabeth, especially with white ribbons and perhaps a bit of lace on the sleeves? A bit of white ruffle can also be left visible beneath the red of the skirt.”

Elizabeth giggled at Georgiana's eager face. “I thought I was supposed to choose my gown?”

The girl smiled. “You are. I'm just showing you your option.”

Elizabeth's lips quirked. “Sounds more like a demand than a suggestion.”

Georgiana shrugged, but grinned. “However you choose to view it.”

Elizabeth smiled and took the swatch from Georgiana. “Cranberry, it shall be,” she said, handing the book and the swatch back to the seamstress. The young seamstress smiled in relief and marked down Elizabeth's choice. It took the two young women much less time to choose their shoes—a cranberry brocade for Elizabeth and a black and blue satin for Georgiana—and stand for measurements. When they were finally done, Elizabeth showed the young woman to the door, thanking her profusely for her patient service.

Returning to the parlor, she took a seat upon a settee. “I suppose we had best be satisfied with our choices,” she said to Georgiana.

The young girl nodded emphatically. “I don't believe she would willingly return should we say we've changed our minds.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “I believe that was the last thing on our list. Everything else is finished. Correct?”

Georgiana squinted in thought before nodding in agreement. “The past few weeks of rain most assuredly provided ample opportunity for planning.”

Elizabeth looked towards the door way and smiled. “It most assuredly was,” she answered as she watched Darcy enter the room. He took a seat next to her on the settee.

“Have my two young ladies concluded their conspiracy to land me bankrupt?” he teased.

Georgiana shook her head. “No, we just made sure you didn't find any extra money to spend on yourself.”

Darcy pretended to wince as Elizabeth chuckled. “She knows me far too well, doesn't she, love?” he asked his wife.

“I don't know, perhaps. You'll receive the billing soon enough,” Elizabeth said, raising a peculiarity particular to the Darcy household. For unlike the many wealthy couples of their day, neither Darcy nor Elizabeth hesitated to mention finances or accounts in passing. This was just one among the many fascinating things Georgiana discovered about her new sister-in-law. Elizabeth tacitly demanded that Darcy treat her as an equal in all matters, anywhere from discussion to finances. Georgiana admired Elizabeth's quiet strength and marveled at the deep love and respect shared between her brother and his young wife. More and more Georgiana was coming to realize what kind of relationship she wanted with whomever she chose as a husband.

“How are the preparations coming along then?” he asked.

Georgiana smirked. “Darcy you need not pretend you're truly interested in how they're proceeding. Elizabeth and I know full well you have no more interest in our plans than you would in a plain doorknob. But to make you believe that we feel you are truly interested, I'll tell you that the plans have been finished as of ten minutes ago.”

Darcy laughed. “Lizzie, dear, I believe you have kidnapped my shy little sister and replaced her with an elf-being! I've never heard such pertness in my life!”

Elizabeth grinned as she rested her head on his shoulder and gazed fondly up at him. “Perhaps, but I believe she has just sufficiently proved to you that she knows you far to well for your own good.”

Her husband chuckled and squeezed her hand. “Well, then, since my motives have thus been revealed, may I announce that we have several very important guests arriving for supper soon.”

Elizabeth and Georgiana shared questioning glances before turning their eyes to Darcy.

“Who?” asked Georgiana as Elizabeth closed her mouth. Georgiana had just asked the question Elizabeth was about to blurt.

Darcy smiled secretly, his eyes twinkling with the secret. “You shall see. I shall only say that you may want to prepare for supper. You need not be formal though.”

Georgiana bit her lip in thought. “It's the Gardiners!” she exclaimed. The Gardiners, mutual friends of the Bennet and Darcy families, were not only responsible for the union of Elizabeth and Darcy, but had served as surrogate parents for Georgiana after her parents' death when she was ten. Mrs. Gardiner had provided a steady female presence in the young girl's life, countering Darcy's male presence. All three dearly loved the Gardiners for many different reasons.

Darcy's eyes twinkled as he shrugged. “You shall see.”

“May I be excused then?” Georgiana asked politely, hardly containing her excitement. Darcy smiled and nodded. His sister rose from her seat and walked calmly from the room, though both her brother and Elizabeth knew that she would break into a quick walk as soon as she was out of their sight.

Elizabeth leaned against Darcy. “Who is it?” she murmured.

He shook his head. “It shall be a surprise for you too, dear,” he murmured back. His fingers gently smoothed the thought wrinkles on her forehead as he smiled down at her.

“It is the Gardiners, isn't it?” she asked.

Darcy shrugged. “Perhaps.”

Elizabeth sat back, her mouth set. “Then I shall prepare for dinner,” she said stiffly, pretending to be miffed with him, hoping he would tell her.

He simply chuckled. “Very well, Lizzie.”

She smiled; her bluff called. “Well, I suppose I must actually prepare for dinner then?”

Darcy smiled. “I'll go with you.”

An hour later Darcy, Elizabeth, and Georgiana waited in the parlor where they had been sitting an hour before. By then both Elizabeth and Georgiana knew with almost unquestionable certainty that the Gardiners were their expected unexpected dinner guests. As the Gardiners were such close friends, the two young women had donned dining dresses only slightly nicer than their regular attire.

As they sat in the parlor conversing, the only way the couple could visibly perceive Georgiana's excitement was through her inability to carry on the conversation. Her sentences and attention would fade as her ears perked for the sound of the knocker. Eventually Elizabeth and Darcy let her sit in her excitement as they carried on their own conversation.

A quarter of an hour later they heard the resounding knocker announcing the arrival of their guests. Georgiana, her face bright with anticipation, rose involuntarily from her seat as they heard Rensler, the butler, open the door. After a glance at her brother, she entered the corridor to the foyer. Elizabeth and Darcy followed, Elizabeth on her husband's arm.

Upon hearing Georgiana's exclamation of excitement and welcome and the responding voices, Elizabeth clutched Darcy's arm and looked to her husband, hardly believing her ears.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, or Uncle Gardiner and Aunt Mari as they were known to Elizabeth, greeted her at the entrance to the foyer. Elizabeth wondered where Georgiana was as she hugged her aunt and uncle.

“How was your ride?” she asked, reattaching herself to Darcy's arm.

“Very well, thank you,” replied Aunt Mari, her eyes twinkling.

“I wouldn't say that,” grumbled Uncle Gardiner. “It was mighty warm.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as Darcy chuckled.

“Warm? But with—.” A shrewd look crossed her face as realization dawned upon her. She'd definitely heard more than two voices in the foyer and the only way the Gardiner's carriage could have been so warm on such a cold day were if there were more than just two people in it. And why had Georgiana not followed them back to her and Darcy?

Correctly interpreting the realization on Elizabeth's face, her aunt and uncle moved aside. Glancing from the smiles on their faces to the carefully blank expression on Darcy's face, she stepped hesitantly into the foyer, hoping she would not be disappointed.

Elizabeth blinked in amazement as her lips parted. Unable to say anything she met Jane halfway across the room and threw her arms around her dear sister in a tight embrace.

“Lizzie, were you surprised?” whispered Jane.

Elizabeth sniffed as she drew back, taking Jane in. Her sister had gained a bit of weight, but other than that she was just as beautiful as the last Elizabeth had seen her; eight months ago just before she and Darcy had left on their honeymoon. “Surprised? Why I don't know what to say.”

Jane laughed as a tear ran down her own cheek and they hugged again.

“She couldn't wait to see you,” said Charles as Elizabeth drew a way from her sister once more. “Darcy mentioned in a letter that you had prepared rooms for us so Jane decided we should come early.”

He took Elizabeth's hand and bowed over it before planting a gentle kiss on it. “As beautiful as ever, Elizabeth. It's wonderful to see you. My sister was rather fatigued and could not make it, but she sends her warmest regards.” Elizabeth smiled and looked at Darcy and Georgiana who stood behind Charles and Jane.

“You knew,” she said to Georgiana. “You are far too good an actress for your own good.”

Georgiana's only reply was to shrug and grin.

Elizabeth turned to Jane once more and realized her sister looked rather tired. And why should she not be after a journey from the Gardiner's?

She blushed at her insensitivity. “Forgive me for my rudeness. There's a fire in the parlor and we can sit before supper.”

Uncle Gardiner cleared his throat. “If you will excuse us, Elizabeth, Georgiana has offered has offered to give your aunt and me a tour of the recently redecorated upstairs. Would you mind if we joined you for supper later?”

Elizabeth smiled and shook her head. “Of course not. Don't forget to show them our new addition,” she reminded Georgiana with a wink.

Georgiana grinned. “I won't. This way, Uncle Gardiner and Aunt Mari.” She motioned for them to follow her up the steps. “You really must see how Elizabeth decorated the drawing room upstairs. It's simply magnificent.”

“And if you ladies will excuse us, we have a bit of catching up to do. We'll be in Darcy's library until supper,” said Charles, smiling at the Elizabeth and Jane. Darcy nodded and they left their wives alone in the foyer.

Jane turned to Elizabeth. “Our family is truly adept at making up excuses to leave us alone,” she said with a chuckle.

Elizabeth grinned back and took her sister's hand. “Not that I mind overmuch. How have you been?” she asked as she led Jane to the parlor.

“Very well, as I assume Georgiana told you a few weeks ago.”

“A lot can change in those few weeks,” Elizabeth pointed out. “From your letter I take it you enjoyed Georgiana's stay?”

“I never knew she was so—charming,” Jane said, taking a seat in a comfortable armchair.

Elizabeth chuckled as she returned to her seat on the settee. “Once she is comfortable she never ceases to be almost absolutely perfect. Sometimes I find myself looking up to her. Would you like some refreshment?”

Jane shook her head. “She definitely looks up to you. She often talked about you and Darcy, especially you. I believe she sees you as a mother and sister figure.”

Elizabeth smiled. “She's like the younger sister that I always wanted my younger sisters to be.”

Jane frowned. “Speaking of such, I recently saw Lydia and Mr. Wickham. They are rather in debt and Lydia asked me for money. I sent her a letter saying that she and her husband were welcome to stay with us for a while; they ended up remaining with us for a month.”

“How was it?” Elizabeth asked, leaning back into the settee.

Jane shook her head. “I can only say that they even began to stretch Charles's nerves. Not only would they not leave, but a love that is based upon so much public display can hardly last long!”

Elizabeth gazed into the fire, missing the scowl on Jane's face. “Lydia asked me for money as well.” She bit her lip, remembering the scene in the study. A fresh rush of guilt washed over her at the memory of Darcy's hurt expression.

“And what did you do?”

“I wrote her back, attempting to discreetly tell her I would not ask Darcy for money.”

“And—,”

“She continued to write, asking for money, accusing me of abandoning her. Eventually I refused to write back and I kept the letters in my journal, hidden from Darcy. But one day he accidentally found them and confronted me. We decided to send them money for food and a letter telling them in no uncertain terms that we are not financially responsible for them.”

“And that's all?” asked Jane kindly.

Elizabeth turned to her sister. “Jane, I felt so terrible! I forced him to have to deal with a man he hates more than anyone. This is the second time I've convinced him to help Lydia and ultimately Mr. Wickham!”

Her sister rose and walked over to sit down beside her, taking her hands. “Lizzie, don't worry about what Darcy has done for you. That is all a part of his love for you. He would do anything, even help the man he hates most, to protect you. Whether you asked it of him or not, he cannot help it.”

“Jane, he was just so angry, absolutely livid at Wickham!” Elizabeth felt her eyes pricking with tears and patted them gently with her sleeve.

“Perhaps he blamed himself for not being able to prevent what has happened to Lydia as he did for Georgiana.”

Elizabeth stared at her sister in shock. “You know about that?”

Jane nodded. “Charles told me about how on edge and irritable Darcy was when he saw you with Mr. Wickham. He didn't want to lose you to him. Charles said Darcy paced for hours, wondering how to sabotage your relationship with Mr. Wickham without losing your respect.”

Elizabeth rested her head against her sister's shoulder and Jane wrapped her arms around her. “Jane, what do you suppose will happen when Lydia and Mr. Wickham stop loving one another?”

Jane sighed. “I don't know. I only know that neither of them shares the love that I do with Charles.”

“Nor mine with Darcy.” Elizabeth laughed. “Listen to us, we sound like two gossipy wives with nothing better to do than marvel at how much our husbands love us.”

The other woman chuckled. “Sometimes `tis good to do that.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “How wise you sound for a woman who has only been married for ten months!”

Jane giggled. “It's the older sister in me.”

Elizabeth giggled with her, before they settled into a comfortable silence. After a while, Jane broke it when she asked, “Are you happy, sister? Tell me true.”

Elizabeth looked up at her sister, her eyes filled with an earnestness that Jane had never before seen in even such a sincere young woman's eyes.

“I could say that I've never been happier before, but that would not be sufficient. I believe I can only say that now I feel as if I am completely full, though I never felt empty before I fell in love with Darcy. It was as if there was an emptiness left for him to fill.”

Jane nodded and sat in contemplative silence for a few moments. “Do you think that love would change if you and Darcy had a child?” she asked hesitantly.

Elizabeth blinked. “I never thought about that. Why do you ask?”

Jane shrugged. “I was just wondering.” Elizabeth raised an eyebrow.

“Well, do you want children?” Jane inquired, blushing.

“I'm happy for now, but yes, I do want children, eventually. Darcy and I only briefly discussed the matter.”

“May I ask what he said?”

“Yes you may, but I'll not answer.” Elizabeth's lips quirked into a smile. “Now it's my turn to ask prying questions.”

Jane laughed. “To prevent you from asking any extremely frank questions, I'll answer you before you ask. Yes, Charles and I do want children.”

“It's hard to believe our parents will some day be grandparents,” sighed Elizabeth. “I could hardly believe our mother was a parent.”

“Elizabeth!” chided Jane, though her smirk belied her harsh tone. “You should not speak of our mother so frankly.”

“Note that you said `so frankly'. I'm only iterating what has been quite obvious since our childhood.”

Jane sighed reluctantly. “I suppose you're correct. Our very proof is Lydia and I believe the only thing that has spared Kitty is our intervention. Perhaps the only reason we have a head on our shoulders is because we were so frequently with Uncle Gardiner and Aunt Leanne.”

“And Papa,” added Elizabeth.

“Yes,” agreed Jane, “and Papa. I always wondered how he and our mother ever got along well enough to marry.”

“I did as well, quite often. At that time I suppose, Mother was perhaps a bit more sensible.”

“Or more like Charlotte,” suggested Jane.

Elizabeth smiled, remembering how satisfied Charlotte had been after her marriage to Mr. Collins and how her friend had rebuked her for not taking advantage of such an advantageous marriage. “You saw Charlotte recently. How are she and Mr. Collins fairing?”

Jane smiled. “Very well, indeed. Their son, Lucas, is growing quickly and he looks very much like Charlotte—,”

“Thankfully,” added Elizabeth.

Ignoring the comment, Jane continued. “Mr. Collins is his usual self, though he had a few of his `well-grounded opinions' about Darcy to share, and Charlotte is well, but a bit displeased with us currently.”

“Oh?”

“I believe she felt that Mr. Collins was the best available for women of our class. Imagine her disappointment when she found that was not so.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Hopefully she will recover from her disappointment shortly so that I may receive some correspondence from her. I miss being amused by Mr. Collins' ever flowing opinions.”

The sisters laughed heartily at their cousin's self-aggrandizing opinion of himself. They paused mid-laugh as a voice cleared itself from the doorway. It was Mrs. Reynolds, the kind, elderly housekeeper who had known Darcy since his childhood. She was the first person that Elizabeth had met during her visit to Pemberley nearly a year and a half before.

“Mrs. Darcy, Mr. Darcy says that he and Mr. Bingley will be down shortly to escort Mrs. Bingley and you to supper.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds.”

The elder woman smiled softly and disappeared from the doorway.

“What do you suppose our husbands have been occupied with?” asked Jane.

“Conversing,” replied Elizabeth promptly. They laughed once more and looked up to see Darcy and Charles standing in the doorway.

“I believe it is time for supper,” said Darcy. Elizabeth nodded and rose to go to his side and take his arm. Jane took Charles's and the two couples proceeded to the dining room.

The Gardiners and Georgiana were already present and seated at their arrival.

“The décor is simply marvelous,” complimented Aunt Mari as Elizabeth took the seat that Darcy offered her beside his.

“Thank you, Aunt Mari, but I believe as much credit is due Georgiana,” Elizabeth smiled and nodded toward her sister-in-law who blushed as the Gardiners re-expressed their appreciation.

“'Tis always wonderful to see my wife's and sister's handiwork each day,” said Darcy, smiling gently at Elizabeth.

“Then I truly look forward to seeing Jane's décor in our new home,” commented Charles.

Jane laughed. “Suppose I shall decorate the interior with flowers and rosy colours? Shall you like it then?”

Charles shook his head, donning a solemn countenance. “I shall love it, no matter what, flowers and colours should you desire them.” Jane raised an eyebrow. “Though I beg of you not to entertain such ideas of décor,” he added hastily with a sheepish smile.

All but Charles joined in hearty laughter.

“Do not worry, dear friend, for Lizzie and Georgiana would have decorated the foyer with roses and fairies had I not intervened,” teased Darcy, his eyes twinkling, as Georgiana gasped indignantly and Elizabeth chuckled.

“Darcy, Love, the very reason we had to redecorate our upstairs was because it had been outfitted at your direction,” she returned. The irony of her hands folded demurely in her lap as she returned her husbands banter was not lost on the other diners.

It was Darcy's turn to colour as everyone else laughed.

“I would advise you gentlemen to spare your wives the chaffing,” suggested Uncle Gardiner, laughing heartily, “for they are fairly able to hold their own.”

“I have never encountered such insolence in young wives,” commented Charles to his friend. “Have you, Darcy?”

“Surely not. I only pray that it does not taint Georgiana, that her husband may not receive the abuse that we do currently,” responded Darcy, his lips quirking as Charles chuckled.

“Men often find themselves victim to abuse after their marriage, but it is simply a consequence of having their egos deflated at the hands of their young wives,” replied Aunt Mari dryly. The women smirked as Darcy, Charles, and Uncle Gardiner looked dumbfounded. Finally their silence was broken when Uncle Gardiner pretended to scowl.

“Dear comrades, I believe we have been too soft on our wives.”

“Indeed,” agreed Charles. Uncle Gardiner and Charles turned to Darcy for his agreement.

“I'd like to sleep peacefully tonight,” he admitted shamefacedly. Everyone roared with laughter as Elizabeth blushed but she smiled at her husband as he rested his hand over hers under the table.

“I believe that conversation shall stop there,” said Jane when the group quieted once more.

“Indeed,” agreed Elizabeth indignantly, passing a stern glance at Darcy who grinned sheepishly. “I do not believe Georgiana need become subject to your horrid verbal abuse.”

Charles opened his mouth to comment but Jane cut him short. “As I have a feeling that you are going to make one last rejoinder, I shall have the last say. Life can be very lonely when you take your meals alone as I don't think Caroline would appreciate such jesting.”

At that her husband blinked and cleared his throat. “I only meant to compliment Elizabeth on such a wonderful supper.”

“Certainly,” returned Jane causing the Gardiners to chuckle as Darcy was prevented from coming to his friend's defense by the look Elizabeth cast him.

“Thank you, Charles,” said Elizabeth. She turned to Georgiana. “Georgiana, I believe everyone would like to hear about your plans for the holidays,” she added, putting a permanent stop to the supper bantering and allowing the shy and quiet Georgiana a chance to enter the conversation.

After supper the Darcys and their guests retired to the sitting room. Georgiana took her traditional seat at the pianoforte as Darcy produced a deck of cards from a small side table in the corner of the room.

The Gardiners, Jane, and Charles took seats around the elegant cherrywood card table. “Elizabeth, will you be joining us?” asked Darcy, knowing that his wife was not overly fond of card games.

“No, thank you. I believe I shall watch,” she said, taking a seat beside him at the table.

“Very well,” agreed Darcy as he shuffled the cards and dealt them to the other three players. Rensler, entered the room with a tray of refreshment. He set it on a table and distributed the glasses to each of the guests. When he came to Jane, she politely refused the wine. Rensler bowed in response and disappeared from the room. Elizabeth watched the game for a few minutes as she sipped her wine before she rose and drifted over to where Georgiana sat at the pianoforte.

“Would you like to join the game?” she asked the girl.

Georgiana shook her head. “I prefer to play. Would you like to join me?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Of course.” Georgiana slid over on the bench to make space for Elizabeth. The elder woman sat down and flexed her fingers before she joined Georgiana in the piece. Georgiana gracefully switched to the harmony, allowing Elizabeth to take the easier melody. They played together for a while, listening to the card players talking in the background.

“Can Kitty play?” Georgiana asked softly, her voice hardly heard above the music.

Elizabeth shook her head. Georgiana looked slightly disappointed and Elizabeth realized that she was expecting Kitty to enjoy many of the quiet things that she did. Not wanting to distance the girls before they truly met, Elizabeth thought a moment before she spoke. “I believe it is partially my fault,” she admitted ruefully. “I was not an exceptionally patient teacher. But perhaps if you taught her she would enjoy it.”

Georgiana looked hopeful. “Truly?”

Elizabeth smiled gently. “You taught me, dear.”

“But you already knew how to play.”

“I could pass. But I have seen a definite improvement since you took me on as your pupil. I believe you could teach Kitty.”

The girl smiled as they finished the piece and moved into another one, this time Elizabeth taking the harmony and Georgiana the melody.

“Lizzie!” exclaimed Jane. Both Elizabeth and Georgiana jumped slightly at the interruption. Georgiana hit the wrong note and the notes of the duet clashed horribly.

“I am so very sorry,” said Jane, “but Lizzie, however did you learn to play like that?”

Elizabeth turned to face her sister, smiling. “Georgiana is an excellent tutor. I was just suggesting that she teach Kitty when she comes to Pemberley.”

Georgiana blushed at the praise.

“How wonderful!” added Aunt Mari. “It will give Kitty a more stable pastime than dancing.”

Jane and Elizabeth traded glances. Aunt Mari greatly disapproved of Kitty's excessive dancing as she believed it introduced the flighty girl to far too many young yet unambitious men.

“Who's winning?” Elizabeth asked, changing the subject.

“Darcy, so far,” replied Uncle Gardiner. “But your aunt isn't too far behind.”

Georgiana smiled. “Darcy has a way with surprises, Uncle,” she said. “I would not underestimate him.”

Charles chuckled. “You are far too correct about that Georgiana.”

“Indeed,” agreed Elizabeth and Georgiana simultaneously. The two young women giggled and returned to their playing. After a while they quit their bench at the pianoforte and took seats among the card players, watching the game as it proceeded. When Darcy played the last card and won, Uncle Gardiner grinned at Georgiana.

“You were right, Georgiana,” he admitted. “Your brother is exceptional with surprises.”

Darcy grinned. “Shall we have another game?”

Jane smiled. Though her cheeks were rosy in the firelight she looked exhausted and pale beneath her their rosiness. Charles glanced towards her and frowned slightly. “I apologize, Darcy, but I believe we shall be leaving soon. Caroline has been alone for quite a while.”

Darcy nodded. “You are quite right. I shall have your carriage made ready.” He rose and left the room.

“Jane perhaps you ought to rest here,” suggested Elizabeth. “Darcy and I could escort you home tomorrow.”

Jane shook her head. “I shall be fine. I am only slightly tired.”

Elizabeth decided not to press her sister but when Darcy returned to the room, announcing that their carriage was being readied and leading the Gardiners, Charles, and Georgiana into the foyer, Elizabeth held Jane back.

“Are you well Jane?” she asked, concerned for her sister's health.

Jane smiled gently, taking her sister's hand. “Oh, Lizzie. Do not worry about me.”

“But you hardly ate supper, and you're pale and exhausted. I had Rensler serve your favorite wine and yet you refused it.”

“The doctor recommended that I not drink for another five months,” explained Jane, blushing slightly.

“Why five months?” asked Elizabeth, feeling as if she were missing something very important in the conversation.

Jane took Elizabeth's hand and smiled. “He told me that babies and wine do not combine well.”

“But—,” Elizabeth stopped mid-sentence as her face broke into a wide grin. “Truly Jane?”

Jane nodded. “I plan to tell Charles when we are settled, so don't ruin his surprise!” she teased.

Elizabeth laughed and threw her arms around her sister. “I am so happy for you, dear!” she exclaimed. She felt the heat of Jane's cheek against hers.

“Yes, well I—,”

Elizabeth giggled. “Oh don't be embarrassed, dear! `Tis only natural!”

Jane coloured further.

Darcy and Charles appeared in the doorway.

“The carriage is ready, Jane,” said Charles, holding her wrap. Jane and Elizabeth hugged one another and Charles helped Jane into her wrap. Darcy and Elizabeth escorted them out to the foyer where Georgiana said her good-byes to the Gardiners and Bingleys and retired to her bedroom for the evening.

Elizabeth hugged her aunt and uncle and then Jane and Charles.

“It was wonderful to see all of you,” she said, smiling widely.

The Gardiners and Bingleys thanked Darcy and Elizabeth for the evening. The master and mistress of Pemberley followed their guests to the door and watched as Rensler and the Gardiners' driver helped them into the carriage and waved as the carriage started around the driveway and disappeared into the dark.

Elizabeth shivered in the cold November evening and leaned into Darcy as he wrapped his arm around her and drew her back into the foyer. They watched as Rensler shut and locked the great door for the evening. When he was finished, he bowed to the Darcys and bid them each a good night before retiring himself. The maids would come and turn down the lights later, after the Darcys had gone to bed.

“Did I surprise you sufficiently?” asked Darcy, his eyes dancing.

Elizabeth smiled up at him. “Yes. It was truly a wonderful surprise.” She buried her face in his chest and smiled as he rested his chin gently on her head.

“I am glad,” he murmured.

She nodded against him as she felt her eyelids drooping, now that everyone had left. She and Georgiana had been up late the past evenings finalizing all the plans for the approaching holidays.

Darcy chuckled. “Are you sleepy, my dear?”

Elizabeth shook her head, but her yawn belied her denial. “It's just all the excitement. Finishing the plans for the Christmas celebrations, Jane and Charles, Aunt Mari and Uncle Gardiner, and—,” she paused, her eyes narrowing in mischief.

“And what—?” murmured Darcy.

She looked up at him and smiled wickedly. “Let's see if I can keep a secret just as well as you,” she suggested.

“What?” demanded Darcy, his eyes lighting with boyish interest.

Elizabeth shook her head as her lips quivered between a smile and a laugh. “You shall see.”

“Shall I?” asked Darcy. She cried out in surprise as he swept her feet from under her. She flung her arms around his neck in case he dropped her.

“Put me down!” she exclaimed, laughing.

“Shall you tell me now,” replied Darcy, his eyes glinting.

Elizabeth grinned. “No!”

At that Darcy took off at a bound, causing Elizabeth to shriek in surprise. She clung to him as he bounded up the stairs and to their bedroom door. “I'm afraid I shall have to beat the truth out of you,” he puffed, gently kicking the door open.

“And still I shall hold my tongue,” replied Elizabeth stubbornly.

Darcy shook his head. “I never wanted to do this but you have left me no choice, my obstinate wife.”

He shut the door behind them and locked it one handed as Elizabeth struggled to get out of his grip.

“Put me down! This is truly undignified!” she exclaimed sternly.

Darcy laughed. “I shall have the truth then.”

“Never,” replied Elizabeth, tossing her head.

With that Darcy dumped her onto their bed and knelt on the ends of her skirts as he began to tickle her mercilessly. Elizabeth laughed as she tried to writhe away from him. Eventually her laughter turned into yelps as she begged him to stop between gasps for air. Her lungs begged for air and her ribs were sore with laughter. He only tickled her harder.

When she could hardly breathe any longer, Darcy released her and fell onto the bed beside her. For a few moments the only sound in the room was their labored breathing. When they had finally regained their air, Elizabeth giggled.

“I still shan't tell you.”

Darcy gently pushed loose strands of hair from her face. “You are the most stubborn woman I know.”

Elizabeth smiled and pushed herself off the bed. “You've wrinkled my dress,” she accused.

Darcy smiled. “I am truly sorry.”

Elizabeth sniffed in mock anger. “I suppose you should be. Would you therefore help undo my buttons?”

Without waiting for an answer she pulled the pins from her hair and let it fall in waves down her back. When Darcy rose from the bed, she pulled it forward over her shoulder. The fire crackled in the background as he undid her many, small, buttons.

“Why must you have so many buttons?” he asked as he flexed his fingers.

“To punish our husbands for torturing us,” retorted Elizabeth.

He chuckled. “I never knew! You must have more buttons on this one dress than on all of my clothing combined!”

She snorted. “Are you sure? You do have quite a bit of clothing.”

“I'm sure.”

The dress slid from her shoulders and fell gracefully to the floor. Elizabeth stepped out of it and picked it up.

“Do you do this every evening?” asked Darcy.

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes. It's only that Meredith or Mrs. Reynolds usually help me.” She went into her dressing room and hung her dress in the wardrobe. She changed into her nightgown and emerged from the room barefoot. Taking a seat at her vanity, she set the pins from her hair in their container and picked up her silver brush. Darcy had given it to her as an engagement gift. Her initials were engraved upon it and surrounded by delicate vines of flowers. Small pearls dotted its back as well. The brush had a matching comb and mirror and all had come in a beautiful mahogany box with velvet lining.

She felt Darcy come up behind her and take the brush. She relaxed as he brushed her wavy curls out, letting the hair fall between his fingers every so often. When he was finished he set the brush back on the vanity. Elizabeth reached up to braid her hair but he stopped her gently.

“You never wear it down,” he murmured. “It's so beautiful. Leave it for tonight.”

Elizabeth conceded and watched with her hands in her lap as Darcy dimmed the lights and set the screen up before the fire. When he climbed into the bed and beckoned to her she rose and went to him, climbing under the warmed covers. She leaned against him as she watched the shadows of the fire's flames dance across the dim room.

“Elizabeth,” he said softly, caressing her arm.

“Yes?”

“Did Jane mention being ill or unhappy to you?” he asked.

“Why?”

“Charles said she's been acting rather odd lately. You would probably know best of anyone if anything were wrong.”

Elizabeth smiled to herself. “Is he truly concerned?” she asked.

“Enough to ask me what I thought,” replied Darcy.

She nodded. “Does he not ask you about what you think often?”

Darcy shook his head. “This time, he seemed—he seemed—deeply concerned.”

“Oh Darcy, there's nothing wrong with Jane! It's only temporary.”

“What does that mean?” His face looked perplexed in the dim light. Elizabeth loved the way his eyebrows knitted together slightly and his jaw tightened slightly when he was confused.

Gently she reached up and smoothed his brow. “Tell Charles not to worry. I'll say no more than that though. Whatever it is will be discussed between Charles and Jane and we need not worry about it.”

He smiled down at her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “Have you written Lady Catherine?”

He stiffened. “Lizzie, I told you—,”

“I know, but Darcy she is your aunt and entitled to her opinions. No matter what she says, she can't affect our happiness or our union.”

“She almost did,” he said darkly. “I could not believe that she went to your home and confronted you.”

“But that's over and—,”

Darcy sighed. “Lizzie, I do not wish to discuss it. I'm content right now and I don't appreciate you trying to catch me off my guard when you ask me about her. I have told you that I am refusing to speak to her and for now that is my decision.”

Elizabeth frowned but didn't press the subject. Would Darcy and his aunt ever speak again? She remembered how her father had threatened not to speak to her should she accept Mr. Collins' hand in marriage and how her mother had threatened not to speak to her if she didn't. But everything had turned out satisfactorily. Elizabeth had refused his hand and her mother had recovered and rejoiced when she became engaged to an even wealthier man. Would there be such a satisfactory ending for Darcy's relationship with his aunt?

There was an awkward silence between her and Darcy.

Finally, Darcy stroked her hair gently. “I'm sorry, Lizzie. I did not mean to be harsh with you. But just as you said that Jane and Charles must solve what is between them, my aunt and I must solve what is between us.”

Elizabeth nodded. Darcy had just politely told her not to involve herself in his relationship with his aunt. She felt a small tear escaping from her eye. She turned away from Darcy, not wanting him to see it. Though she knew he did not mean to exclude her, she could not help but feel a bit rejected and guilty. After all, she was the very reason Darcy and his aunt weren't on speaking terms. More tears leaked from her eyes.

Darcy settled under the covers and pulled Elizabeth down beside him. She turned from him, not wanting him to see her tears. Discreetly she tried to wipe them away, but they continued to fall.

“Lizzie?”

“Yes?” she dared not say more; afraid he would hear the quiver in her voice. But despite her best efforts he realized something was wrong.

“Look at me.”

She turned over, trying to wipe the tears from her eyes. A pained expression crossed Darcy's face.

“Elizabeth—I never meant to—,”

“I know,” she sobbed. “I just feel so guilty for being the perpetrator of this mess.”

Darcy drew her to him, letting her cry into his shoulder for a few moments. He held her in his arms and rubbed her back gently. When she had quieted he spoke to her softly so that it his voice soothed and caressed her gently. “Elizabeth do not blame yourself for what has occurred between my aunt and me. She would have been angry should I have married any woman who was not her daughter. It is not your fault and it pains me every time you blame yourself. What matters more than what my aunt thinks is our love, Elizabeth. I would risk even more than my relationship with her for you.”

“I know,” murmured Elizabeth.

He nodded and smiled gently. “I know you know, but sometimes I like to remind you.” His finger traced her smooth cheek and he leaned in close. Elizabeth closed her eyes as he kissed away the tears on her cheeks and then his lips met hers, anxious to express all the feelings that he had just iterated.

Over the next few weeks every time Elizabeth thought about Jane, which was quite often as she helped her sister move into her new home, the question of children rose to the front of her mind. Yet each time she gathered her courage about her to raise the topic with Darcy, she quailed from it, afraid that perhaps he would not want children. And each time she avoided discussing it, a feeling of shame settled over her for she realized that she was keeping one more important secret from Darcy. When she wasn't worried about that question, she worried about how Darcy's reaction to Lady Catherine.

She was relieved from the circle of fear, guilt, and doubt by the ever nearer holidays. In the days before Christmas, Elizabeth hardly had time to think at all.

“It's absolutely beautiful on you, Elizabeth!” exclaimed Georgiana as Elizabeth examined herself in the mirror. The seamstress had returned for their final dress fittings and Elizabeth and Georgiana now stood before the floor length mirror in Georgiana's room. The cranberry taffeta rustled as Elizabeth turned. The low neckline of the dress accented her long neck wonderfully and the white lace on the sleeves added a simple elegance to the dress, complimenting Elizabeth's own simple elegance.

“You chose excellently Georgiana, both for yourself and me,” admitted Elizabeth, smiling. The deep blush that coloured the girl's cheeks made her look like a porcelain doll dressed in a blue gown.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Elizabeth laughed and turned to the seamstress. “We are exceptionally satisfied with your services. Thank you.” She handed the young woman an envelope with the payment for her services and the dresses.

The seamstress bobbed a curtsy. “Thank you for your high compliments, ma'am.”

Elizabeth smiled and beckoned to her personal attendant, Meredith. “Meredith shall show you to do the door,” she said. “Thank you, once more.”

“Thank you, ma'am,” replied the woman as she gathered up her supplies and bobbed one more curtsy to Elizabeth. “Please enjoy your holiday season, ma'am.”

Elizabeth nodded. “And please enjoy yours.” The woman nodded her head and followed Meredith from the room.

Georgiana gingerly took her gown in one hand and twirled gracefully.

“It's so beautiful!” she sighed, watching herself in the mirror.

Elizabeth glanced over herself. “I feel so, so over dressed,” she disclosed, feeling slightly embarrassed.

The girl shook her head. “Everyone will be dressed in their finest. You shall be dressed appropriately.” She stopped twirling to look Elizabeth in the eye. “'Tis different in—in—er,” she crimsoned.

“'Tis different being married to a man such as Darcy,” finished Elizabeth with a reassuring smile. “There is no need to be delicate about our class differences, Georgiana; `tis the way life is.”

“I did not want you to feel as if you didn't belong,” explained Georgiana quietly.

Elizabeth hugged the girl tightly. “You are the most wonderful person Georgiana and have never made me feel as such.”

Georgiana wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and rested her head on her shoulder. “I always wanted an older sister, as much as I love Darcy. `Tis only that there were some things that he could not understand, as hard as he may try.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “Men always seem to have a rather difficult time understanding women, just as we sometimes find it hard to understand them. I suppose `tis what attracts us to one another—there's always something mysterious about the other.”

Georgiana smiled. “That is why I always wanted an older sister.”

Elizabeth laughed and gave Georgiana one last reassuring squeeze before they helped one another out of their gowns and back into their everyday dresses. Just as they were finishing a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” called Elizabeth. Mrs. Reynolds entered the room, looking slightly frazzled.

“We're just awaiting your approval for the placement of the Christmas tree, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth nodded wearily. “Of course. I'll be right down.” Mrs. Reynolds nodded and withdrew.

“Are you ready?” she asked Georgiana.

Elizabeth started to the door, but when Georgiana didn't answer she turned back to the girl.

“Are you ready?” she asked once more, wondering how Georgiana could not have heard her.

Georgiana looked slightly uncomfortable, her smile from a few moments before having disappeared. “I—I have a few things I must do. Perhaps you should go on without me.”

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. “It won't take long.”

“I know—I just, I have something to do.” Georgiana's discomfort increased.

Not wanting to press the issue, Elizabeth nodded. “Very well. I suppose you're right.” She left the room, feeling slightly hurt that Georgiana did not want to join her. Elizabeth had noticed over the past week that as enthusiastic as Georgiana had been about the planning a few weeks before, she was no longer as interested. Elizabeth wondered if she were doing something wrong or whether Georgiana felt that she was trying to take over her place. For it had been Georgiana who had organized Christmas at Pemberley in the past and now Elizabeth had proceeded to take over the planning. Not for the first time, Elizabeth felt uncomfortable as the Mistress of such a large estate; there were so many things with which she was not familiar. Finding her place and allowing Georgiana to maintain hers was just one of her worries as the Mistress of Pemberley. Making a good impression all those who would be scrutinizing her ability as the mistress of such a large estate was her largest one currently.

The first floor was bustling with activity. Servants decorated the banisters of the main stairwell with garlands of evergreen branches tied together with green and red ribbon and decorated with glass bulbs and cranberries. Thousands of miniature frosted glass snowflakes strung on gossamer thread were being strung from the ceiling of the entrance hall by servants arrayed on ladders with an attendant on the floor to hand up the thread on poles. The snowflakes hung on different lengths of thread that it may appear to be snowing inside. The wall candelabras were being decorated with ribbons and holly and set with new candles. The large chandelier had been lowered in order to be decorated with snowflakes. She caught sight of Mrs. Reynolds, the head of the household, and Rensler, rushing around, trying to direct fifty people at once.

Elizabeth waited patiently on the steps for Mrs. Reynolds to notice to her, not wanting to distract the woman from her work. After a few moments the woman caught sight of Elizabeth and rushed over to her, simultaneously apologizing and chiding.

“I am sorry for keeping you waiting, but Mrs. Darcy, what have I told you about calling me when you require me? It is my duty to be there for you at your need.”

Elizabeth grimaced ruefully at Mrs. Reynolds. “I know, Mrs. Reynolds, but I always seem to forget. I suppose `tis my common upbringing.”

The woman smiled gently and absent mindedly patted her on the arm. “William, watch what you're doing or you shall break that entire strand of snowflakes!” she called to one of the young men on the ladders. He blushed at being chided in front of the mistress and averted his eyes. Mrs. Reynolds turned back to Elizabeth as if their conversation had never been interrupted. “Do not apologize dear. That very common upbringing is what helped dear Mr. Darcy. Come I shall show you the tree.”

Elizabeth obediently followed the woman, feeling that all too often Mrs. Reynolds seemed to be in more control of what went on in the household than she. But upon seeing the ballroom, all thoughts of being in control flew from her mind. An enormous tree filled one corner of the ball room. Its evergreen scent filled the giant room. The tree was hung with candles, garlands of cranberries, and bulbs. No two of the exquisite bulbs were the same. An intricate angel trumpeted from her post at the top of the bright tree.

“It's beautiful,” breathed Elizabeth, an unknown smile brightening her face. She turned to look around the ballroom. The large windows that looked over the gardens of Pemberley were draped with ethereal curtains and decorated at the top with garlands of evergreens laced with red and gold ribbon. Snowflakes had already been hung from the ceiling of this room and their scintillating light cast a winter magic throughout the room.

Mrs. Reynolds led the way to the room off the ballroom where the men often gathered to talk for part of the ball. The fireplace was decorated with holly and more garlands of evergreens as well as gold and red ribbon. A smaller tree stood in one corner, a smaller version of the one in the ballroom. All the tables had been draped with white satin skirts and cranberry red and evergreen green tablecloths.

“All is in order,” announced Elizabeth, “you may—,”she trailed off, catching sight of the portrait over the fireplace. It was of her! It had replaced the one of Darcy and Georgiana.

“Mrs. Reynolds! Whatever is this?” she exclaimed.

The woman smiled. “Mr. Darcy insisted that I have that hung.” Properly interpreting the look of mortification and surprise on Elizabeth's face, Mrs. Reynolds chuckled. “'Tis common for men such as Mr. Darcy to hang portraits of their wives in the room off the ballroom. They enjoy showing off the beauty of their wives. `Tis a compliment, truly. Why, the late Mr. Darcy, may the Lord bless his soul, hung a portrait of the late Mrs. Darcy, may the Lord bless her dear soul, in that very spot. It was his pride and joy.” She dabbed the misty tears from her eyes with the corner of her apron.

Elizabeth stared at the portrait. She remembered all the hours she had sat for it. Darcy had refused to tell her what it was for, but insisted that he wanted it perfect. In it Elizabeth wore an ethereal blue gown that offset her fair complexion. Brown curls tumbled around her face and the rest of her hair was bound with a blue ribbon and drawn forward over her left shoulder. The small pearls that dotted her hair seemed to glow in the light that shone on her face. Her lips were tilted upward in a small smile as if she were recalling a private joke.

“'Tis a beautiful likeness,” sighed Mrs. Reynolds, beaming at the portrait as if it were her own work.

Elizabeth blushed, not knowing how to respond to such a compliment. “Why, thank you. I—I believe that you may place the presents under the tree now,” she said. “Everything looks wonderful. I have left the menu with Mrs. Parsons. You may both review it and ask me any questions.”

Mrs. Reynolds curtsied. “Very well, Mrs. Darcy.” She hurried from the room to attend to the many other things on her list of things to do. After once more reviewing the work on the first floor, Elizabeth returned upstairs to review the work in the guest rooms. All was in order as the maids aired out the infrequently used rooms and made sure everything was crisp and neat and each room supplied with towels. The rooms were also touched up with a bit of Christmas décor.

Having finished her demands she returned to Georgiana's room. She knocked gently and smiled when Georgiana opened the door and invited her in.

“How is everything?” asked Georgiana awkwardly.

“Excellent,” replied Elizabeth, just as uncomfortably.

Georgiana smiled. “I suppose I shall go down later to see it. Right now I need some help selecting my jewelry for the ball.”

Elizabeth smiled; glad the awkward moment had passed and willingly helped Georgiana find the perfect jewelry to go with her gown. Several times Mrs. Reynolds interrupted them with a question about the menu and Georgiana would remain silent as Elizabeth specified exactly what she wanted. Each time Elizabeth felt embarrassed and as if she were intruding, but Georgiana offered no explanation for her silence and Elizabeth demanded none.

As evening approached, the decorating tapered off as the servants hired specifically for the holiday returned home and the Pemberley servants went to their supper. Elizabeth and Georgiana proceeded down to their own supper, Georgiana exclaiming in delight over each of the decorations that she saw.

Elizabeth was showing Georgiana how she had hung thin white curtains behind extremely lace curtains to portray snow fall when someone chuckled behind them. “I see how hard you have been working today,” said Darcy. “It is most charming.”

Elizabeth turned to him, a look of surprise on her face. “Where have you been all day? You only left a note saying you would be out.”

Darcy grinned. “And that is all you need concern yourself with, my dear. We are now even on secrets, are we not?” he asked.

“So that's what this is about?” inquired Elizabeth, smirking.

“I do believe so,” returned Darcy with a nod.

Georgiana looked between the two confused but she was too polite to ask about the secrets that each of them were keeping. “Shall we continue on to supper?” asked Darcy, offering each woman his arm.

Elizabeth and Georgiana each took one and they continued on to the dining room. After seating each woman, Darcy took his own seat at the head. Nellie entered with their soup and curtsied herself out of the room. After a few moments of eating, Elizabeth remembered something.

“I saw your addition to the ballroom chamber today.”

Darcy smiled sheepishly. “I could not resist.”

Georgiana looked up from her soup. “I told you she would be embarrassed by it, Darcy,” she said. Elizabeth could tell that she was trying to keep an I-told-you-so tone out of her voice.

“I appreciate your foresight, Georgiana,” said Elizabeth.

“But everyone has a portrait of their wife hung in a place where many would view it,” insisted Darcy.

“You could break that tradition,” commented Elizabeth, taking a sip of her soup.

“Well I won't,” said Darcy firmly. “You are my wife and I will not shame you by not hanging your portrait where everyone might see it and marvel at your beauty. `Twould be an embarrassment to you if I should not have a portrait of you somewhere.”

“That's your vanity speaking,” Elizabeth returned.

Darcy's eyebrows knitted together. “My vanity? No `tis only my pride in my unappreciative wife.”

“I am not unappreciative, I only ask that you not hang it in such a public place,” responded Elizabeth evenly.

“Are you ashamed of it?” he demanded.

“No. `Tis only that I do not want such a public display of myself,” she retorted.

“Then I suppose you shall not be appearing at the ball then,” he shot back, sounding extremely irritated.

“That is another matter entirely.”

“No, `tis the same. Elizabeth you are the wife of a wealthy man, your life is different now. There are certain things required of me and you that we must unwillingly fulfill.”

Elizabeth shook her head, frowning. “And who demands that you hang a portrait of me in the room off the ballroom?”

Darcy caught her eye. “I did it because I love you and I want every other person to see you as I see you. The most beautiful woman in the world with that glint of irresistible intelligence in your eyes, your humor, your strength. Is that enough for you?” he asked defensively. He dropped her gaze and returned to his soup.

Elizabeth scowled and then realized that Georgiana was a bit too concentrated on her soup and her cheeks had crimsoned. The scowl faded from her face as she admitted to herself that it was not worth arguing with Darcy about this and that her own pride had hurt Darcy. What did it matter where he hung the portrait anyway?

Darcy remained relatively silent for the rest of supper while Elizabeth constantly berated herself for being so petty. Thus all the talking was left to Georgiana who was in general not a very talkative person, and being seated at a table with two non-communicating people, her silence was even more present. Therefore supper passed in a most unusually quiet fashion.

When all the dishes had been cleared from the table, Darcy rose without asking Elizabeth to join him and left the dining room. Georgiana remained in her seat and as Elizabeth began to rise from the table, she spoke up timidly.

“Elizabeth?”

“Yes?” She slid back into her seat.

Georgiana blushed. “Please do not be angry with Darcy. It is a custom among men of—of his status to hang a portrait of their wives in the room off the ballroom. If he did not, people would question your,” here she crimsoned further, “your relationship. Not only that, but Darcy wants—he wants to show the world that you are worthy of whatever position you may hold. It infuriates him every time people question how well you uphold your place and whisper whether you are truly worthy of his love. Don't tell him I told you this, but that is why he was so angry when you asked him to remove the portrait. He only wants to protect you.” At that she rose and hurried from the room, extremely embarrassed at explaining her brother's feelings to Elizabeth. Elizabeth stared after Georgiana is shocked silence. There it was again, Darcy protecting her.

Miserably she rose from the table, wondering if she would ever fully understand her place and the extent of unconditional love. She smiled ruefully, remembering what she had told Georgiana earlier; about men and women's understanding of one another and how the things they didn't understand is what kept them together. Perhaps she should occasionally listen to some of what she said, it might help her out.

Elizabeth set out to find Darcy, realizing she had an apology to make and hoping Darcy would readily accept it.

She went to their evening parlor, but did not find him there. Nor did she find him in his study, their bedchamber, or in the parlor where Georgiana was playing the pianoforte. When she asked the girl if she had seen Darcy she shook her head.

“Should I help you find him?” she asked.

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, no, thank you.” She turned from the room and returned to the foyer, wondering desperately where he could be.

Mrs. Reynolds appeared at the top of the steps with her arms full of towels.

“Mrs. Reynolds, could you tell me where Darcy has gone to?” Elizabeth asked.

The woman frowned in thought. “Why he went storming off into the ballroom,” she said. “He looked frightfully angry. Is something wrong dear?” Elizabeth shook her head.

“Not at all. Thank you.”

Elizabeth hurried off to the ballroom. The room which had been so busy earlier was dark, but for a thin slip of light filtering through the doorway at the other end. She shivered in the cool room and hugged herself. Quickly, she crossed the room in the dark, her eyes adjusting to the dark, and rapped tentatively at the door.

“Come in,” Darcy answered gruffly.

Slowly she opened the door and stepped inside. A fire played in the decorated fireplace, and but for the light from the fire, the room was dark. Her eyes searched the shadows until they settled on Darcy sprawled across the sofa.

She stepped timidly into the room and shut the door behind her.

“I've been looking for you,” she said.

Darcy grunted.

Elizabeth twisted the ring on her finger and glanced from Darcy to the fire and back to Darcy, unsure what to say.

When Darcy didn't speak she cleared her throat. “I—I came to apologize,” she said. “I did not realize the picture meant so much to you. I would not have been so insistent—I suppose—well the issue wasn't all that important to me. If you truly want the picture there—who am I to disagree—I—,” she trailed off, looking at her feet.

Her apology quivered in the air for a long while before Darcy spoke without looking at her. “My mother was the most beautiful woman I knew. She was so kind and giving, completely without any of the vanity I possessed. My father had a portrait done of her shortly after they were married and hung it where yours now hangs. Every time someone would mention it she would blush and laugh lightly, recalling how much coaxing my father had to go through before he convinced her to sit for the portrait. When I was twelve, my mother died giving birth to my sister. My father would retreat to this room to sit and talk to her portrait each time grief overcame him, which became more frequent over time. Eventually I would also retreat here to seek her silent counsel, especially after my father died five years ago. I said I would never remove her portrait. And then I met you, at the ball nearly three years ago. I was struck by you and yet I was too vain to see how truly valuable you were to me. Every time I returned to this portrait to seek her counsel, I would think of you. And then you refused my proposal of marriage. I was angry, and then hurt. I raged in this room, vowing to never speak to another woman again. And when I saw her portrait and recalled how stubborn she had been about sitting for it I was reminded of you. I realized then how much I truly loved you and resolved to change your opinion of me. When you agreed to our engagement I decided that I would move her portrait and have a portrait of you put up, so that you may remind me, as my mother reminded my father, of all that was truly important in life.”

The room retreated into silence once more. Finally Elizabeth stepped to his side and sank to her knees beside him, resting her arms on the sofa and laying her head on them. Instinctively Darcy reached out and ran his hand over her hair.

“I had no idea that it meant so much to you,” whispered Elizabeth.

“I should not have expected you to,” murmured Darcy. He paused. “The decorations are beautiful.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you. Georgiana and I worked so hard to make them perfect.”

“Well you have succeeded wonderfully.”

“Thank you,” whispered Elizabeth. “I shall retire for the evening, I believe. Tomorrow my parents and Mary shall be arriving as well as the Collinses. I want to be refreshed for their arrival.”

“Of course,” replied Darcy smiling. He kissed her forehead. “I shall escort you to bed, my dear.” He stood and offered Elizabeth his arm. Elizabeth pointed out and explained the different decorations to an attentive Darcy. When they reached their bedchamber, Darcy kissed her good night.

“I have some work I must attend to but I shall be to bed soon.”

“Be sure you are,” agreed Elizabeth, smiling. “It would not do to have the host sleeping in late for the arrival of our guests.”

Darcy chuckled. “It would more likely be their hostess, but I shall do my best to undertake her position as gracefully as possible.”

Elizabeth yawned. “I have no doubt you would be quite successful.”

Darcy smiled and kissed her forehead. “Good night, Lizzie.”

She wrapped her arms around him and murmured a good night before she disappeared into their bedchamber to ready for bed.

The next morning Elizabeth awoke in Darcy's arms. She breathed in his clean scent and snuggled closer to his warmth.

“'Tis too late, I know you're awake,” he murmured.

“Why do you wake up so early?” mumbled Elizabeth.

Darcy chuckled. “Good morning to you, too. You may want to look outside.”

Reluctantly Elizabeth opened her eyes and sat up. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and hugged herself against the chill of the room. She ran on tiptoe to the window and pulled the drapes open. Elizabeth gasped and turned only to bump into Darcy who had come up quietly behind her. She turned back to the window as Darcy wrapped his arms around her from behind.

“Snow in time for Christmas,” sighed Elizabeth. “'Tis beautiful.”

They watched the snowflakes falling outside the window in quiet content. Everything was white as far as she could see. The white hills rose above the landscape like tufts of white quilt batting and the snow reflected the sunlight in beautiful light yellow beams. Elizabeth wished fervently that there were a way to preserve the breathtaking sight before her.

“What time shall our guests be arriving?” asked Darcy eventually.

“Late morning,” replied Elizabeth wistfully.

“Then I suppose we should be getting ready?” murmured Darcy.

“I suppose you're right.” Elizabeth unwillingly tore her eyes from the beautiful white scene beyond the window.

Elizabeth readied for the day with Meredith's help. Afterward she set out in search of Georgiana. It wasn't long before she found the girl at the pianoforte, filling the first floor with Christmas carols. Elizabeth quietly went to the windows and pushed the drapes back as far as they could go and hooked them behind their holders. She returned the pianoforte and took up the carol Georgiana was playing. Georgiana switched to the harmony and began to sing along in her light, sweet, and steady voice.

Inside the house, the last decorations were being put up. Outside the evergreen garlands, decorated trees, and ribbons were being put up. But Georgiana and Elizabeth remained oblivious to it all as they played, sang, and watched the snow fall outside the large windows of the parlor. Images of watching her children play in the snow ran through Elizabeth's mind and for a moment, guilt at avoiding the question washed over her. But Georgiana's clear voice broke her reverie and Elizabeth rejoined her in song.

When their fingers finally grew tired they stopped and light applause pattered behind them. Georgiana jumped and Elizabeth turned to see who had been listening. Darcy leaned against the doorway.

“You are determined to make this day magical,” he commented lightly, his dark eyes dancing.

Georgiana laughed. “We did not create the snow! `Tis simply the day that is magical, not us making it so. The days when we are happiest are like that.”

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “You sound far too wise,” she commented. Smiling, she added, “You make me feel extremely young.”

“Christmas is so different this year,” Georgiana sighed.

Elizabeth frowned briefly. Was Georgiana disappointed with the way Elizabeth had planned Christmas or was she upset that she hadn't been able to plan it? She once more wondered how Georgiana truly felt about her taking over the Christmas preparations. She had confronted Georgiana about her feelings the day before, but though Georgiana had assured her that she was perfectly content with the arrangements, Elizabeth also knew Georgiana hated to hurt her feelings.

“Yes, `tis,” added Darcy, smiling, though he cast an odd look at Elizabeth, tacitly asking what was wrong. She shook her head slightly and he shrugged. “Lizzie, Mrs. Reynolds asked that I tell you all the guest rooms have been prepared.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly.

“The decorations look astonishing,” complimented Darcy, entering the room to lounge on the sofa. Elizabeth smiled slightly at his attempt to cheer her up though he did not know why she needed cheering up.

“The guests shall be here soon,” announced Georgiana eagerly. “Kitty is with them, is she not?”

Elizabeth's smile widened. “Yes, she will be, and Mary as well.”

Georgiana glanced down at herself. “Do you believe I am dressed appropriately?”

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise at the question, but she did not have a chance to say anything before Darcy spoke up. “You are fully dressed,” he commented, chuckling, “I therefore believe you are indeed dressed appropriately. Or are you missing something?”

He quieted as both Elizabeth and Georgiana cast him unappreciative looks.

“What do you mean by such?” asked Elizabeth. Then she observed that Georgiana had donned one of her more modest dresses and wore her hair in a simple style. Elizabeth realized that Georgiana was trying to dress as modestly as possible as not to intimidate Kitty with her wealth.

Georgiana blushed but Elizabeth saved her from having to answer. “Yes you are indeed appropriately attired,” she answered, giving the girl a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

The girl smiled appreciatively.

Anne, one of the servants, knocked lightly at the doorway. When she had all of their attention she blushed and curtsied. “Mrs. Reynolds told me to tell the Master and Mistress, and Miss Darcy that guests have arrived.” She bobbed another curtsy and quickly disappeared from the doorway.

Georgiana rose from her seat at the pianoforte and waited impatiently as Darcy and Elizabeth rose and Elizabeth took Darcy's arm. As Master and Mistress of Pemberley it was their duty to be the first to greet their guests, unless it was a far less formal greeting.

Darcy and Elizabeth lead the way into the foyer. As eager as Georgiana was to greet Elizabeth's family, her shyness created pink spots of apprehension on her cheeks.

Elizabeth drew Georgiana to her side and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

“'Tis fine, dear,” she murmured.

Before Georgiana could answer Rensler opened the door and bowed to the Bennets, welcoming them to Pemberley.

“Elizabeth!” cried Mr. Bennet as he stepped into the house, holding out his arms to his favorite daughter. Gusts of snow and a cold blast of air rushed in after him.

“Father!” Elizabeth laughed and rushed forward to embrace her father. She released him as her mother, Mary, and Kitty stepped in behind him.

Darcy greeted her father warmly as Elizabeth hugged her mother.

“Why Lizzie, dear, your house is simply magnificent!” Mrs. Bennet cried. “And the decorations!”

“Thank you mother,” replied Elizabeth as she moved on to hug Kitty and Mary. After greetings were exchanged between the Darcys and the Bennets, servants came to whisk away the guests' cloaks and lead them to their rooms that they may freshen up from their journey. Georgiana ascended the steps with Kitty, listening politely as Elizabeth's younger sister spoke rapidly about all the balls she had been attending during her time with Lydia and all the young men she had met.

Elizabeth frowned at Kitty's chatter. How much flightiness would she have to undo after Kitty's brief visit with Lydia?

“You look concerned,” commented Darcy as they proceeded to the parlor to wait for their guests.

“'Tis Kitty. It seems as if every time Jane and I rein her in, Lydia manages to undo it all.”

Darcy wrapped an arm around her waist. “She will be with us for quite a while. You will have ample time to redo everything Lydia may have undone.”

Elizabeth sighed. “This ball won't help things—,”

“And nor will your worrying about it,” Darcy replied firmly. “You have enough to worry about for now. The most important thing is to gain Kitty's trust and confidence.”

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “How would you know?”

“That's how I knew about Georgiana and Wickham,” he said softly.

“Oh,” was all Elizabeth could say. She realized that Darcy was entirely correct in his advice. The only way to change Kitty was to have the girl's trust, or how else was Kitty to believe that Elizabeth was truly trying to help her?

“I hope that Georgiana may gift Kitty with at least some of her sensibility,” she said.

“We shall see,” replied Darcy.

They waited for their guests and Georgiana in the parlor. Elizabeth sat at the pianoforte, playing a carol that Georgiana had taught her recently as Darcy leaned against the instrument, watching her delicate fingers move lightly over the keys.

“Your playing has improved greatly,” complimented Darcy.

Elizabeth smiled up at him. “Perhaps that is only because I love Christmas time best of all or because Georgiana's teaching is incomparable.”

“Or both,” he replied with a smile.

“Or both,” she agreed. “It just seems to all flow together: the snow, the music, Christmas.”

Darcy watched her tenderly. “You make Christmas come alive at Pemberley once more. I have never been so happy during this season since my mother died.”

“Do not let Georgiana overhear you saying such,” teased Elizabeth, changing the key. “She would not appreciate it.”

He grinned. “No, she would not. But she loves having you here more than anything.”

“Truly?” asked Elizabeth.

Darcy nodded gravely. “You are everything she has missed—a mother, a sister, a female companion. She speaks about you often when we spend evenings in my study.”

Elizabeth hesitated, wondering if she should iterate what was on her mind. Finally she decided to ask. “Darcy, how does she truly feel about me planning Christmas?”

“Did you not ask her?”

“Why of course, but she—well, of course you know how little she likes confrontation.”

Darcy smiled. “Yes, but I know that she truly enjoyed sharing the plans with you.” His smile faded. “You still hesitate, Lizzie. What is bothering you?”

“It just seems as if she lost her enthusiasm about the preparations a week ago. I thought perhaps she thought I was trying to take her place,” admitted Elizabeth.

He shook his head. “No, she does not believe so. I do not know why she acted differently, but she definitely does not believe you are intruding.” Darcy leaned over and kissed her forehead. “You worry far too much, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Do I?”

Darcy took a seat beside her. “Have I ever misled you?”

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “You won't tell me where you were yesterday.”

“And you won't tell me what's wrong with Jane,” he returned.

“According to you we are thus even. Therefore this question exists on an entirely different level.”

Darcy laughed. “That is why intelligent women never marry. Their husband's egos are unable to withstand their wit.”

Elizabeth giggled. “You admit it so readily.”

Darcy shrugged. “Because no one else is here to hear me say it.” He looked at her with mock sternness, “and do not dare to tell anyone.”

She tossed her head, as she switched to a new carol. “Do you intend to threaten me?” she asked.

“Who says I did not just then?” asked Darcy, raising an eyebrow.

Elizabeth laughed.

“You have called my bluff,” admitted Darcy. He rose from beside her. “Please tell your father to meet me in my study. He will want to know how I have been treating his favored daughter.”

She smiled. “Of course.” He left and she continued to play.

A short while later someone cleared their throat behind Elizabeth. She turned to see Anne in the doorway with Mary behind her.

“Mrs. Darcy,” she curtsied. “Refreshment will arrive shortly, as you requested. May I fulfill any other requests?”

“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth gently. “Would you please take my father to Mr. Darcy's study when he is ready?”

Anne nodded and curtsied. “Very well, ma'am.” She turned and left, leaving Mary standing in the doorway.

Elizabeth rose from her seat to embrace her middle sister. “How have you been?” she asked.

“Very well,” replied Mary, a small smile on her lips.

Elizabeth led her sister into the parlor. Mary sat gingerly on the edge of the settee, taking in the room which had been decorated for the season. She looked small and ill at ease in the elegant parlor of Pemberley. Elizabeth could tell her sister already sorely missed her studious solitude at Longbourn.

“Your home is truly beautiful,” she remarked.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth replied graciously. She took a seat on the sofa, feeling quite awkward. Despite their close relation, Mary and Elizabeth had rarely had an extended time of interaction on their own. Their relationship had become even more distant after Elizabeth married Darcy and moved to Pemberley. In many ways Elizabeth felt sorry for her younger sister, for Mary, though very well accomplished, had become embittered by the social success of each of her sisters, not excluding Lydia. Her bitterness was not unexpected for she had been referred to as the despair of her mother quite often over the years. Their mother constantly lamented over her Mary's inability to obtain a husband for it must be because she was too smart, or too plain, or too old. Elizabeth was aware that their mother often compared each of her daughters to Mary and each time, Mary somehow fell short.

“Georgiana has been quite looking forward to your arrival,” related Elizabeth pleasantly.

“She is with Kitty,” responded Mary laconically.

“Oh, indeed.” Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm. She cast her eyes about the room to find a neutral subject.

“That is a fairly new pianoforte. Would you like to perform for me?” Elizabeth knew that Mary enjoyed any chance to display her musical skills.

“Certainly,” replied Mary, smiling broadly. She rose and went to the instrument. She gracefully took her seat and set her fingers on the keys. Before she could play one note though, Kitty appeared in the doorway trailed by Georgiana.

“Lizzie, dear, I was just telling Georgiana how delightful the decorations were!” she exclaimed, rushing into the room to hug Elizabeth.

“Thank you. Mary was just going to perform for me. Would you like to listen?”

Kitty shook her head. “She's been playing non-stop lately. I believe I have heard quite enough. But Elizabeth, dear, do give me a tour of your house! It is simply elegant!”

“Perhaps Georgiana will give you a tour?” suggested Elizabeth, looking to Georgiana.

Georgiana nodded eagerly and Elizabeth wondered just how soon the girl would tire of Kitty's chatter.

“But—,” cried Kitty.

“Lizzie, darling, how wonderful your home is! How lucky you are!” Mrs. Bennet cried as she hurried into the room to embrace her second oldest daughter. Elizabeth glanced at Mary who refused to meet her eyes.

“A tour would be grand,” Mary said stiffly.

“But your performance?” Elizabeth said desperately, not wanting to hurt her sister's feelings.

“Oh, you have heard her play many a time,” Mrs. Bennet interrupted impatiently, waving her hand dismissively. “A tour would certainly be wonderful!”

Elizabeth hesitated but when Mary rose from the pianoforte to join them, she reluctantly took them on a tour of Pemberley. Mrs. Bennet and Kitty exclaimed enthusiastically over every room and every piece of furniture they saw. Elizabeth blushed each time Mrs. Bennet exclaimed how lucky she was to have a daughter like Elizabeth and how fortunate Kitty would be to find a husband like Darcy. Mrs. Bennet also found Georgiana to be a favorable subject—how she wished to have a daughter as graceful and beautiful as Georgiana, or as polite and intelligent. With each freely given compliment Georgiana grew more and more red with embarrassment. Elizabeth could hardly meet Georgiana's eyes at each of her mother's exclamations.

Finally, at the end of tour, and after Mrs. Bennet and Kitty had fully exhausted themselves in their praise over Pemberley, Mrs. Bennet smiled. “Where is Mr. Darcy?”

“He is in his study,” replied Elizabeth.

“With your father, I presume?” asked Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth nodded. “He will be out soon to greet you.”

“Elizabeth, would you mind should Mary, Kitty, and I retire to the parlor?” asked Georgiana softly.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Why of course, Georgiana. You need not ask.”

Georgiana blushed and quietly asked if Kitty and Mary would like to join her. The two girls consented and followed their young hostess to the parlor, leaving Mrs. Bennet and Elizabeth alone.

“I knew how lucky you were from the moment you announced your engagement,” stated Mrs. Bennet to her daughter, beaming at her daughter as if the marriage had been all her doing. And perhaps to Mrs. Bennet, it was believed so.

“Indeed,” agreed Elizabeth. “Would you walk with me, mother?”

Mrs. Bennet frowned. “But we have just walked through the house, Lizzie dear. Whatever more is there to see?”

Elizabeth smiled secretly, trying to tempt her mother's curiosity. “I have something to show you.”

Her mother thought a moment. “Why of course, dear,” she agreed. Elizabeth nodded and they started out. As Elizabeth led the way to the ballroom she struck up a conversation with her mother about the various inhabitants of Meryton and Longbourn. Mrs. Bennet was ever eager to update her daughter on all the local information and then more. This allowed Elizabeth to stroll in virtual silence, nodding here and exclaiming there over the chatter that poured from her mother.

They reached the ballroom and Elizabeth led her mother to the room off of it.

“Whyever are we here?” demanded Mrs. Bennet curiously.

Elizabeth smiled. “I said I had something to show you.” She opened the door and stepped into the room.

“That is it,” she said, indicating her portrait above the fireplace.

Mrs. Bennet drew closer to the portrait, inspecting it in one of her rare silences. “'Tis beautiful, Lizzie,” she said finally.

Elizabeth nodded from where she stood just inside the doorway. “Darcy had it done shortly after our marriage. He insisted upon its perfection. Georgiana told me that his public display of this portrait represents his affection for me. But it also establishes my position as his wife to all who see it. Now, out of my affection for him, I must make a request that I would prefer that you not repeat to anyone. You are often effusive in your expression of your affection and abundantly articulate in your opinions, no matter how tactless they may be. As your daughter, I ask that at the ball and to all of the guests who remain afterward, you restrain yourself as not to embarrass Darcy. He has risked much in marrying me and thinks nothing of it. I will not be the cause of anything to bring it to his attention and make him defensive towards his acquaintances and friends. Am I clear, mother?”

Mrs. Bennet pursed her lips and gazed levelly at her daughter. Elizabeth was surprised to find, for perhaps the first time, all trace of foolishness absent from her mother's countenance.

“I understand fully,” she said coolly. She paused. “I always knew you were the least favorite of all my daughters and today you have fully verified my reasons.”

Elizabeth's heart sank. Her mother had truly taken her request to heart, and why she should she not? Elizabeth had just demanded that she restrain herself, portraying her disapproval of her mother's behavior. She frowned. “I did not mean to offend you, mother.”

Mrs. Bennet shook her head. “No, you only meant to uphold your position as Darcy's wife,” returned her mother, her voice still chilly.

They stood in a dreadful, interminable silence. Elizabeth remembered the silence she had shared with Mary earlier and thought that she much preferred that to the quiet that now hung between herself and her mother.

Finally Elizabeth spoke hesitantly. “Would you like to join us in the parlor for refreshment?”

“I'd much prefer to stay here.”

“But the girls will miss your presence—,”

“They shall be fine without it,” Mrs. Bennet returned shortly.

Elizabeth swallowed and nodded. “Very—very well. You may join us when you choose.”

“Thank you.” Her mother turned back to the portrait and made no motion to acknowledge Elizabeth again. Elizabeth stepped out of the room and hurried across the ballroom, guilt sinking its greedy hand into the pit of her stomach.

She found Georgiana, Mary, and Kitty in the parlor. Mary and Georgiana sat at the pianoforte, playing a carol in beautiful harmony as they sang along with their parts, and allowed Kitty to take the melody. Elizabeth watched for a few moments frowning at first as she dwelled on her conversation with her mother and then giggling softly when Kitty forgot the words to the carol and deemed it appropriate to create her own lyrics. While Elizabeth could see that Mary was clearly annoyed, Georgiana simply laughed and tried to follow Kitty's new rendition of the song. The girls had not noticed her, so after checking to see if Anne had supplied them with refreshments, she withdrew to her desk in the alcove off the upstairs evening parlor.

The windows of the alcove commanded a view over the white land and icicle draped trees. She sat in the old, but comfortable chair that she had found in the attic and placed at the desk and stared out over the view before her.

What had been her true motives for asking her mother to restrain herself? Was it truly because she wanted to protect Darcy, or was it because of her selfishness, her inability to bear the humiliation of her mother's sometimes loose tongue? Why had she brought the subject up anyway? Was it truly necessary? Was she becoming as proud as Darcy had been when she first met him?

She sat at the desk, brooding. All consideration for the entertainment and comfort of her guests flew from her mind. As she wallowed in her guilt, the nagging question of children returned to the forefront of her mind. Why had she not asked Darcy yet? What was she truly afraid of? That he would say no? How would she feel if he said he did not want children? Jane would surely have children and perhaps eventually Kitty and Georgiana. She would have nieces and nephews. And yet that thought did not comfort her. Elizabeth had never expected to find herself longing for the knowledge of what it was like to hold the small hand of her own child. Tears presented themselves at her eyelids, but she blinked them away, telling herself that it was only the brightness of the sun's reflection off the snow that caused her eyes to tear.

Mrs. Bennet joined the girls in the parlor, complaining loudly of her nerves.

“Kitty, do stop that harsh racket, my poor nerves cannot bare it,” she said, placing a hand over her eyes.

Kitty stopped singing and bit her lip.

“May I escort you to your room?” asked Georgiana, timidly. “I shall have Anne or Margaret bring you a cold cloth.”

“Thank you, dear child,” sighed Mrs. Bennet as Georgiana gently took her hand and led her to her room. Georgiana then summoned Anne, who set off at once to produce the required cold cloth. When she saw that Mrs. Bennet was settled, Georgiana returned to the parlor, surprised that Elizabeth was still not there.

“Has Elizabeth not come?” she asked softly of Kitty and Mary.

“No,” answered Kitty. “She shall be along soon though. Come play again.”

Georgiana frowned but returned to her place at the pianoforte. It was not like Elizabeth to neglect her guests.

An hour later, the knocker sounded throughout the house and Anne appeared to announce the arrival of the Collinses. Elizabeth had still not appeared in the parlor. Darcy came down the steps with Mr. Bennet, who inquired where his wife was. Upon discovering her condition, he excused himself to check on her.

“Where is Elizabeth?” asked Darcy as Rensler opened the door.

“Oh, here she comes!” exclaimed Kitty, pointing to the stairs. “Do hurry up Lizzie! Where have you been?”

Darcy frowned as Elizabeth came to his side. He did not have a chance to question her odd disappearance as Mr. Collins stepped through the door and greeted him with exuberant well wishes. He was followed by a rosy cheeked Charlotte and their three year old son, William. Rensler shut the door against the cold as the Bennet girls fell on William, exclaiming over him.

Elizabeth allowed Mr. Collins to kiss her hand and compliment her profusely on her home before she greeted Charlotte. Catching sight of William, who tried to hide in his mother's skirts against the rush of exclamations over him, she smiled sadly.

Servants came to take the Collinses wraps and Darcy led them to the parlor, upholding polite conversation with Mr. Collins. Georgiana walked beside Elizabeth who accompanied Charlotte. Mary and Kitty followed behind, arguing over who should carry William.

“Are you well, Eliza?” Charlotte asked Elizabeth.

“Quite,” she answered, smiling softly at her friend. “I am simply tired after all the preparation for the holidays.”

Charlotte nodded. “I quite understand why you should be exhausted. I have never seen such exquisite decorations.”

“Thank you,” replied Elizabeth.

They continued on in conversation as Georgiana frequently glanced sideways at Elizabeth. Elizabeth knew her lie about her fatigue did not fool the girl and knew Georgiana would confront her about it later on, in private.

Mr. Bennet rejoined their company and the Bennets, Collinses, and Darcys passed the afternoon singing carols, talking and playing vingt-un. Dinner was enjoyed in the dining room and the party returned to the parlor for some more card games before supper for which Mrs. Bennet rejoined them and William was sent to the kitchen with his nurse.

Between Kitty's constant chatter, Mr. Collinses abundant compliments, the lively discussion between Charlotte and Mrs. Bennet, and Georgiana's unusually increased talkativeness, none but the two involved noticed the silence between Elizabeth and Mrs. Bennet.

After supper, they returned to the parlor where Georgiana took her seat at the pianoforte and Mary soon joined her. Charlotte pulled out her embroidery and Elizabeth picked up a book as the rest engaged in a lively game of loo.

When Elizabeth realized that she had read the same page of the book three times and gained nothing from it she set it back down and tried to concentrate on watching the game. For a long while she gazed at the decorated Christmas tree in the corner and the shadows that leapt about the tree from its candles. Eventually she began to discreetly watch the clock, waiting for a polite time to retire. When it finally announced a proper hour, she excused herself, claiming to want extra rest for the ball the next day. Georgiana, Mary, and Mrs. Bennet also decided to turn in with her. After exchanging good nights, the four climbed the stairs and went to their separate rooms where servants waited to help them prepare for the evening.

Elizabeth climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. Sleep proved elusive and she lay blinking at the fire. Later, she heard Darcy come into the room and prepare quietly for bed. He climbed in beside her.

“Lizzie, are you awake?” he asked softly.

She did not answer and pretended to be asleep. From his pause she could tell he was frowning, trying to determine whether she were actually asleep or upset. She prayed that he found it to be the former. After a few moments, he settled down beside her and wrapped his arms around her.

“Good night,” he whispered into her ear.

The only reply was the fire's low crackle.

Christmas Day dawned upon a busy Pemberley. The Gardiners, Jane, Charles, Louisa, Caroline, and Mr. Hurst arrived in time for a large breakfast. Servants hired temporarily for the ball and those from Jane's household arrived and were outfitted in uniforms. The servants made last preparations as the Darcys and their guests gathered around the tree in the parlor to exchange presents. Afterward, servants gathered the presents and took them to the rooms of their recipients. Upon discovering the vast size of Pemberley and the indulgence of its Master and Mistress, the Gardiner children and William became engrossed in a game of hide and seek and their shouts of laughter could be heard throughout the house as they ran from room to room, discovering places to hide.

At noon those guests that came from a distance began to arrive. Elizabeth had no time to think about the events of the evening before as she and Darcy greeted their guests and made sure servants directed the guests to their proper rooms.

Finally it was time for Elizabeth to prepare for the ball. Thankfully she escaped to her chamber, away from the chaos of arrivals and greetings. She bathed and Meredith arrived to help her ready. Elizabeth sank down onto her seat at the vanity as Darcy entered their room.

She raised an eyebrow. “Where have you been?”

He chuckled. “It will not take me nearly as much time to ready myself as it will take you, dear.”

She sighed and turned back to the mirror as Meredith began to run the comb through her hair. “Indeed.”

A half an hour later, Elizabeth examined herself in the mirror. Her dark hair had been pulled into a bun towards the top of her head and held in place with mother-of-pearl combs. Graceful curls softened her face and a wave of hair was left out over her shoulder.

“'Tis beautiful, Meredith,” exclaimed Elizabeth, smiling.

Meredith nodded. “'Tis not done yet, though.” She picked up a strand of pearls and settled them on Elizabeth's hair, pinning the ends in place.

“Now,” she said.

Elizabeth nodded, her cheeks flushed with excitement. Meredith proceeded to apply the barest make up to Elizabeth's features and then helped her Mistress into her corset. When Elizabeth finally donned her dress, Meredith curtsied.

“Anything else, ma'am?” she asked. Elizabeth wanted her to stay but knew that Meredith would be required to help with the other females' preparations.

“That is all,” she said. “Thank you, and Merry Christmas.”

Meredith smiled and curtsied. “Thank you, ma'am, and Merry Christmas.” She hurried from the room shutting the door behind her.

Elizabeth sat back down at her vanity and opened her jewelry box. Darcy's hand withdrew hers from it and closed the top. She looked up at him, curiously.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I suppose I have discovered your secret,” he said, his eyes twinkling down at her.

Elizabeth smiled. “Have you?”

He nodded. “Jane is expecting.”

“Charles told you?” Elizabeth asked softly.

Darcy grinned and nodded once more.

“Very well,” sighed Elizabeth, returning his grin. “So you have discovered my secret.”

“And now I shall reveal mine.” He drew a small box from his pocket and presented it to her. Glancing questioningly up at him, Elizabeth opened it and gasped. Inside rested a beautiful pearl necklace, each milky pearl perfectly matched in size and appearance.

She swallowed and set the box on the vanity, before rising to put her arms around her husband.

“I suppose you like it?” he asked, gently.

“How could I not?” murmured Elizabeth, tears glittering in her eyes.

Darcy smiled and kissed her. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured in her ear.

“Merry Christmas.”

Darcy picked the box up off the vanity and withdrew the necklace. Carefully he draped it around Elizabeth's neck and closed the clasp.

“I believe I have not yet told you how beautiful you look,” he breathed into the nape of her neck.

“No, you have not,” replied Elizabeth quietly.

“Then I must do so without delay. You look truly beautiful and no decorations are needed for the ball, so long as you shall adorn it.”

Elizabeth laughed softly and caught sight of herself and Darcy in the mirror. The fierce love in Darcy's face made her feel lightheaded and a wave of sadness crept over her. In that moment she resolved to ask him about children as soon as the opportunity arose.The matter could not be delayed any longer.

Urgent rapping at the door caused Elizabeth and Darcy to part reluctantly.

“Is it time?” muttered Elizabeth.

Darcy glanced to the clock. “No.”

“Then who—?” She trailed off as a voice answered her unfinished question.

“Lizzie, Lizzie! Oh, please may we see you Lizzie?” Leanne, the oldest of the Gardiner children, called through the door. Darcy chuckled as Elizabeth went to the door and opened it to reveal Leanne and her younger sister, Sarah, standing before her.

“You look astonishing,” gasped Leanne, a large smile revealing her dimples.

Elizabeth giggled. “Why thank you, Leanne.”

“Does she not look beautiful, Sarah,” insisted the girl eagerly.

Sarah frowned and pushed her brown curls from her eyes. “I am perfectly able to compliment her on my own,” she retorted. Leanne laughed patronizingly and tugged playfully on one of Sarah's braids, causing Sarah to look even more annoyed. Elizabeth bit her lip, trying her hardest to prevent herself from laughing. As Leanne progressed from childhood into adolescence she had taken it upon herself to act in a manner she considered appropriate for a young lady. Unfortunately, she found few at home and Pemberley younger than herself to boss around.

Darcy came to the door. “How elegant you look this evening, Miss Gardiner, and how beautiful you look Sarah,” he said, bowing to them and maintaining a perfectly polite countenance, though his eyes twinkled brightly.

Leanne blushed and curtsied. “Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” she murmured. She nudged Sarah.

“Thank you,” echoed her sister.

“I expect there to be a most delightful turn out to the ball this evening,” predicted Leanne conversationally.

“What does it matter to you?” asked Sarah bluntly, before Darcy could respond. “You won't even be there.”

Elizabeth bit her lip and covered her mouth as a laugh threatened to erupt from behind her lips. She admired Darcy's ability to perceive all of this as if he were discoursing with a young woman instead of a twelve-years-old girl.

“Just because I can't go, doesn't mean—,” she was interrupted as Mrs. Gardiner came bustling towards them.

“There you are girls! Are you not satisfied having bothered Jane and Kitty?” she demanded in exasperation. “You are supposed to be in your room so that you may be served supper.”

“Yes Mother,” replied Sarah and after bidding good night to Darcy and Elizabeth she disappeared down the hallway. Leanne, however, opened her mouth to protest.

“Immediately,” emphasized her mother, pointing down the hallway. Reluctantly Leanne bade good night and set off down the hallway, each of her complaints sharply overruled by her mother who followed close after her.

As soon as Leanne disappeared from sight, Elizabeth burst out in laughter. Darcy grinned and drew her back into the room.

“Your cousin means well,” he said, though he could not prevent the laugh that escaped from his own lips.

“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth as she collapsed onto her vanity seat as tears of mirth ran from her eyes.

A half an hour later, Meredith announced that the most of the guests had arrived. After she left, Darcy turned to Elizabeth, who had paled considerably. He smiled gently at her.

“Do not worry, Lizzie dearest, you shall be the most elegant woman there.”

He took Elizabeth's hand and placed it gently on his arm, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I'm glad at least one of us has confidence,” returned Elizabeth.

He chuckled softly and tenderly tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear.

As they approached the top of the stairwell, the soft roar below drifted up to their ears. Darcy placed his hand over hers and guided her down the steps. The crowd hushed as they caught sight of the Master and Mistress of Pemberley. Murmurs passed about what a handsome couple they were, and how beautiful the Mistress looked.

Elizabeth finally reached the bottom of the stairs and sighed with relief as talk recommenced and the musicians could be heard as they began to play on their balcony over the ballroom.

Beneath the sparkling crystal snowflakes, Darcy and Elizabeth greeted their guests, inquiring after their health, and graciously accepting compliments on their home. Georgiana soon joined them, remaining by Elizabeth's side during the greetings, a small gesture which Elizabeth greatly appreciated.

“Why Elizabeth, you never hinted how you had transformed this overlarge place!” exclaimed Colonel Fitzwilliam as he came forward to embrace first Georgiana and then Elizabeth.

Elizabeth chuckled as Colonel Fitzwilliam winked at her. Darcy shook his head.

“My dear cousin, I must ask you to refrain from flirting with my wife.”

“Oh Darcy, you know I flirt with anything in skirts. I don't often get any of them, anyway.” Here he winked at Georgiana who blushed and giggled.

“If you do not attain any of them, it won't be for lack of charm,” she murmured.

“So she talks!” teased Fitzwilliam with a look of mock astonishment. “I thought she might be a mute for a while there!”

Darcy and Elizabeth chuckled as Georgiana blushed once more. After a bit more conversation, Fitzwilliam caught sight of another acquaintance and hurried off to great him.

A young man hurried up to them, looking quite nervous, and frequently glancing back at two young men who seemed to encourage. After bowing to Elizabeth and Darcy he bowed to Georgiana.

“May I be honored by your partnership for the first dance,” he asked in a rush.

Noticing that Darcy had opened his mouth to respond to the young man's request in Georgiana's stead, Elizabeth hurried him away.

“What are you doing, Lizzie?” he demanded impatiently.

“Georgiana is seventeen and perfectly capable of accepting or declining a dance,” she responded.

“I know she is seventeen b—,” he stopped as a young woman approached Elizabeth.

After acknowledging Darcy with a polite greeting and a curtsy, she turned to his wife. “You are Mrs. Gardiner's niece, I presume,” she asked shyly.

Elizabeth nodded. “I am.”

The young woman curtsied. “Your aunt and my oldest sister are great friends. My name is Julia Lansing. How do you enjoy Derbyshire?”

As Elizabeth engaged in conversation with Julia, Darcy moved off to speak to another gentleman. The beginning of the evening passed smoothly as Elizabeth introduced and was introduced, participated in short conversations, and moved on.

It was generally agreed among the elder women in attendance of the ball that while Mrs. Darcy was not an ideal choice as a wife, she certainly made a proper one. Her mother's manners were quite appalling, but who could wonder when such unfortunate circumstances surrounded her youngest daughter's marriage. Oh, had you not heard? I had it from my neighbor who had it from her sister who had it from her friend in London that the youngest Miss Bennet had eloped. And eloped with none other than George Wickham! Shhh, don't speak so loudly, Mr. Darcy abhors the very name! Imagine, being related to such a shameful man!

The young women were equally divide in envy of Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy and amiable feelings toward her. Those that envied her found extreme fault with her: the way she carried herself, her looks were unpleasant, she ignored this person, and she smiled far too much. They were amazed to find, though, that Miss Caroline Bingley refused to join in their critical observations. Those with amiable regard were eager to further their acquaintance with the young woman who had so gained the respect of Georgiana Darcy and her brother. Some of the married women envied how tenderly Mr. Darcy watched his wife as she passed him and how his eyes refused to stray to any other. Others wished they were the ones receiving such a attention from him.

Among the young men it was expressed that the two oldest, former Bennet sisters, were indeed beautiful and upheld their husbands with due grace. Some men secretly envied the rare discovery of two such women and the others were enchanted by Mrs. Darcy's delightful conversation abilities. The unjoined young men especially appreciated her deft skill in diverting Miss Georgiana's formidable brother's attention away when they approached to request a dance of his sister.

All the elder gentlemen had to comment on the wife of Mr. Darcy was that she was indeed a pretty, young thing, and provided excellent refreshment.

As Elizabeth rejoined Darcy for a dance, he grinned at her. “Have you been avoiding me, my wife?” he teased.

Elizabeth chuckled. “It isn't hard to do so in such a crowd, is it?” she asked.

“Is that an affirmative?”

“It is a question.”

Darcy smiled but it was not seen by Elizabeth who was looking intently down the line of dancers as they passed one another.

“Is there is someone in particular you seek?” he asked.

Elizabeth dipped with the dance. “Yes. Have you seen Kitty?”

Darcy nodded. “She is third from the end.”

In craning her neck to see to the end, Elizabeth missed a step of the dance. Darcy took her hand and guided her back into place. “Can you see her partner?” she asked, entirely unconscious of her mistake.

“It is Mr. Richard Errington. Pray, may I ask of your interest?”

“I only wanted to be sure—,” Elizabeth trailed off as Darcy chuckled having caught her hypocrisy.

His face donneed a thoughtful expression. “There was a certain young woman who earlier chided me for concerning myself with Georgiana's partners. Do you recall her name, Lizzie dear?”

“Georgiana happens to have a head full of sense. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for my younger sister. It's filled with the senseless ideas that Lydia and my mother have had far too many years to instill within it,” she retorted.

“Shall I go tell Mr. Errington to immediately part from your sister?” asked Darcy.

Elizabeth frowned. “No I don't believe—.” She realized that Darcy was only teasing. “I don't believe that was as funny as you found it,” she sniffed.

Darcy laughed. “Indeed I am sorry, my love.”

“I accept your apology,” replied Elizabeth with a gentle smile.

The next dance was claimed by Colonel Fitzwilliam who, with great gravity, declared that no other woman would dance with him and his evening would be a terrible failure had he not danced at all. Elizabeth smiled and recalled the five times she had previously seen him dancing. He chuckled.

“Well how else was I to get a beautiful woman like you to dance with me?”

Elizabeth grinned in reply.

Charles joined her for the next sequence, during which Darcy took Jane as a partner. Afterward Mr. Collins asked for a dance. Elizabeth politely presented him with her hand, though her smile was hardly capable of guarding her displeasure at his request.

“Cousin,” he said solemnly, as he bungled a step, “I have wished to speak to you on a most important matter.”

“Is that so?” inquired Elizabeth politely.

“Yes. It concerns Lady Catherine de Bourgh. I had to prevail greatly upon her to allow us, that is my dear Charlotte, William, and me to attend Christmas here at Pemberley, for as you know she is not on the most agreeable terms with her nephew, Mr. Darcy. His disobedience was of a most disrespectful kind, considering her great regard of him, but as you are my cousin and our understanding of one another most profound, I therefore took it upon myself to expound your most praiseworthy virtues, and assured her that while he was perhaps committing a most offensive act of disobedience, as you must agree, that you were in no way worthless. I believe it was my most sincere assurances and sermons of forgiveness that brought her to her present state of healing.” Here he paused for Elizabeth to express the expected gratitude, which she did, somehow maintaining an undisturbed countenance.

Mr. Collins continued.

“It is my belief that when I return with such a favorable report of your unrestrained hospitality and Mr. Darcy's favorable social standing she shall condescend to forgive you. You have not yet experienced the extensive reaches of Lady Catherine's forgiveness. It is a most fulfilling experience, though I myself have never had the misfortune to require it.”

Elizabeth winced as he stepped on her foot.

“You need not concern yourself with her perceiving your request for forgiveness as begging,” he said, misinterpreting her wince. “For Lady Catherine is most accustomed to giving forgiveness. It is perhaps one of her finest virtues as an exemplary Christian woman.”

Though Elizabeth firmly insisted that she was not in any way in need of Lady Catherine's forgiveness and spoke so firmly to her cousin as to border on uncivil, he refused to budge from his well-formed opinion.

Before the dance had finished, Elizabeth desperately sought Darcy's eye and though Mr. Collins had not finished speaking when the dance ended, Elizabeth curtsied to him, and pretending as if she did not realize he had not finished his tedious speech, she hurried to a waiting Darcy.

He skillfully whisked them away from a pursuing Mr. Collins and introduced a conversation with a woman whom he presented to Elizabeth as a Mrs. Dowing. When he made sure that Elizabeth was safe from Mr. Collins, he led the man to a corner. Discreetly, Elizabeth watched as Darcy quickly ended a conversation with her cousin and bowed curtly to him before returning to her side as Mr. Collins drifted off to speak to another recipient of his most well-grounded opinions.

When Mrs. Dowing parted from them to take a seat, for her rheumatism was unfortunately making its presence well known this evening, Georgiana hurried up to them, begging a dance of her brother. After a glance to Elizabeth, Darcy followed Georgiana into the crowded ballroom. Elizabeth moved off to a quiet corner near the stairs to take a temporary respite from her role as hostess.

“It is a most lovely evening,” said a soft voice. Elizabeth looked up to see Caroline Bingley standing beside her. “I am sure you endeavored greatly for its success.”

“Thank you,” replied Elizabeth. They stood in silence for moments, each unsure how to address the other or the appropriate topic of conversation, for the weather and holiday season had been exhausted that morning.

“Jane is a most caring sister,” ventured Miss Bingley.

“Indeed she is,” acknowledged Mrs. Darcy. They stood in continued silence.

Miss Bingley looked down at her skirt and smoothed it with her gloved hands. “I must ask your counsel on a particularly difficult situation.” When Mrs. Darcy did not respond, she continued hesitantly, “Fitzwilliam requested a dance of me, but I was unsure of your sentiments of such an interaction. I would not enjoy making you uncomfortable in your home…” she trailed off.

Elizabeth smiled tightly. “If he requested a dance of you, I see no reason for you to decline,” she said. “After all, it's only a dance, is it not?”

Miss Bingley smiled and grasped Elizabeth's hands. “You are such an understanding sister!” she exclaimed warmly.

Elizabeth nodded and watched as Caroline bustled away. A small thought in her head insisted that perhaps more had occurred in the exchange than she had registered. She remained under the stairs for the next two dances and emerged when Kitty rushed towards her, exclaiming over a young man she had just had the pleasure of dancing with.

Kitty chattered on until she saw a young woman who was of a most “fun disposition” and hurried off again to join her.

Elizabeth reentered the ballroom to join Darcy for another dance. As she stood looking for him, Colonel Fitzwilliam came to her side.

“Are you looking for Darcy?” he asked pleasantly.

Elizabeth nodded.

“He's still dancing with Miss Bingley. She will hardly let him out of her sight,” commented Fitzwilliam, indicating the subjects of the conversation.

She raised an eyebrow. “Is that so, Fitzwilliam?”

He nodded and took a sip from his glass, watching as Elizabeth's face set. “Lizzie, I shall escort you to the refreshments, you are looking rather parched.”

“I believe I have been absent long enough,” she responded starting towards Darcy and Caroline.

Fitzwilliam stepped past her and swiftly made his way to the pair. Elizabeth watched as he cleared his throat and spoke to Caroline. She listened politely, giggled, and moved closer to Darcy, who frowned slightly. The colonel bowed and returned to Elizabeth.

“I have done my gallant part and once more this evening I have been refused,” he said in forced jocularity.

“You have done more than your gallant part, and for that I thank you,” responded Elizabeth with a grateful smile. He bowed to Elizabeth as Georgiana approached them.

“My dear Georgiana, I believe I have been denied your graceful presence in all of the dances this evening. Will you not suffer through one with your old cousin before you return to all your young beaux?”

Georgiana smiled sadly and took the proffered arm. “Do not let Darcy overhear you. You know his temperament when it comes to young men.”

“Ah yes I do,” conceded Fitzwilliam, patting her hand. “We shall have to speak to him, am I correct Lizzie?”

“Whatever you believe shall change him,” responded Elizabeth.

Fitzwilliam bowed to her and led Georgiana to the dancers.

Moments later Darcy came to Elizabeth with Caroline still on his arm.

“Your husband is a most delightful dancer,” she said, smiling at Darcy whose face remained polite.

“I believe you shall know better than I,” demurred Elizabeth, “I have not had the privilege of three continuous dances.”

“When I had no partner for the second two, he graciously asked me again,” replied Caroline, “as you were not present.”

“'Tis truly appalling that with such a striking appearance as yours this evening, you were unable to obtain partners for two straight dances! I wonder where all the young men have got to? Perhaps they are intimidated by you?”

“Indeed,” laughed Caroline.

Elizabeth smiled. “Dear Caroline, you mustn't deflect them! Darcy and I would feel terribly if you had to sit out for a dance and my husband shan't always be free to join you!”

“I thank you for your concern, Elizabeth.”

“This is our home and as you are our guest, we would never want you to feel the slightest discomfort here.” Elizabeth motioned to a young man as he passed her.

“Mr. Penning, it has recently been brought to my awareness that Miss Bingley has been without a partner all evening! Will you not be her escort? I am sure you shall find one another most agreeable. If you would be sure she is most pleasantly engaged for the rest of the evening, I would owe you my greatest appreciation.”

Mr. Penning smiled and bowed. “It would be my pleasure, Mrs. Darcy.” He offered his arm to Caroline who took it.

“I thank you Mrs. Darcy for your concern,” she replied in a falsely cheerful tone.

“A pleasure.”

Mr. Penning led a reluctant Miss Bingley away.

“You can be quite scheming when the fancy passes you,” observed Darcy.

“How so, Mr. Darcy?” she inquired innocently. “I was only taking care of my guest to be sure she had a delightful evening.”

He chuckled as they honored one another in the dance. “I do not doubt it, my love.”

Elizabeth and Darcy danced the next five sequences before parting once more, Darcy to join the young men in the room off the ballroom and Elizabeth to join Jane who was standing in a less crowded corner.

“It's a wonderful ball,” observed Jane happily.

“And yet you are not dancing,” answered Elizabeth.

“Charles is off with the young men and,” she coloured deeply, “with my condition, few men have deemed it proper to ask me for a dance.”

“That or Charles has threatened them with pain of death.”

Jane laughed. “I don't believe he would ever do such a thing!”

“All the more reason to be wary,” returned Elizabeth. Her sister giggled and clasped her hand as they watched the dancers waltz by them.

“There's Kitty,” said Jane, indicating their sister as she danced past with a handsome young man who seemed to hang on to her every word, of which there were many. Elizabeth glanced at her older sister.

“You need not worry about missing the dancing for you may live vicariously through Kitty tomorrow morning when she tells us of each of her dances and conversations tomorrow morning,” she commented wryly.

Jane chuckled. “Let her be, Lizzie. It is rare that she enjoys such structured enjoyment.”

“I would not call dancing and flirting with every eligible man “structured enjoyment”, but call it as you wish. Look, here comes Charlotte.”

Their friend made her way to them through the guests standing around the ballroom.

“My husband has decided that he has danced enough for the evening,” she announced upon reaching them. “He wants to set an example as a rector; therefore he mustn't dance overmuch, only enough to be polite to his host and hostess.”

Jane nodded solemnly, but Elizabeth had to raise a hand to her cover lips, lest Charlotte should see her smile.

“Well, I do suppose I have danced enough,” sighed Charlotte, casting a longing glance to the dance floor. “I shall go check on William to see if he is asleep yet.” She smiled and excused herself from her friends. Elizabeth and Jane watched as she left the ballroom.

Elizabeth frowned. “I am thankful each day that I spend with Darcy that I did not accept Mr. Collins's hand.”

“Yes, but Lizzie, dear, you had years yet to come. For Charlotte it was becoming late and she had little choice. She is content in her own way…and she has William.”

“I suppose so,” mused Elizabeth. “Would you like to sit down?”

Jane hesitated, knowing her sister would insist on joining her if she sat down. Realizing the reason for Jane's hesitation and knowing that her sister was truly tired, Elizabeth beckoned to Georgiana who stood a few young women away from them with Fitzwilliam, who despite his teasing, had taken up Darcy's place as her guard against young men. Georgiana whispered something to him and they approached the sisters.

Elizabeth smiled. “I believe some of our guests might enjoy it if you played a few carols for them,” she suggested to the girl.

Georgiana smiled. “Of course. Fitzwilliam would you like to join us?” she asked.

Her cousin grinned. “I wouldn't miss such a wonderful performance!”

They made their way into the parlor where Georgiana took her place at the pianoforte.

“What shall I play?” she whispered to Elizabeth.

“The new carol that you just learned, `Angels from the Realms of Glory.'”

The girl thought a moment and then her fingers began to gently tap the keys and shortly the clear notes were joined by her sweet, soft voice. “'Angels from the realms of glory/Wing your flight o'er all the earth;/ Ye who sang creation's story…'”

Jane took a seat on one of the chairs as the room quieted to hear Georgiana's music. When she had finished the first carol, the guests broke into enthusiastic applause calling for another carol. Georgiana laughed and insisted that Elizabeth join her for the next. Together they performed the “Wassail Song” and then Georgiana called for her harp and accompanied Elizabeth in “The Holly and the Ivy.”

More guests filled the room: the young men having an excuse to observe the beautiful, young Miss Darcy and envy Mr. Darcy his wife, the elderly women to listen to the sweet song of youth, the young women to observe their competition, and the elderly men to enjoy the beauty of youth. Of course there were those present who simply enjoyed the music and entertainment being provided by their hostesses.

Unbeknownst to Elizabeth, Darcy arrived in the room, having heard strange rumors that there were two muses in attendance of the ball. Caroline Bingley caught sight of him as he entered the room and took a step towards him before she observed his countenance which softened at the sight of his dear wife. She swallowed her words and excused herself from the room.

Charlotte returned and was shortly joined by her husband, Mr. Collins, who could only find her who would listen to his sermon on the moderation of performing for while often it was for a good cause, applause went far to inflate one's opinion of oneself...Charlotte sighed and nodded along, partially listening to her husband, but mostly enjoying the music of her friends. After such a long time of practice, she was quite adept at only half listening to her husband while giving the impression of her fullest attention.

Charles Bingley joined his wife, bringing her refreshment and sitting by her to enjoy the carols and adding his voice to the singing occasionally. Jane sipped her drink daintily as she listened with enjoyment to her sister and rested in her seat for she was feeling quite tired.

Kitty stood in a corner, chattering to a young man and trying in vain to draw Mary into the conversation. Mary sat ramrod straight in a chair, watching enviously as guests applauded at the end of each of the songs and urged for more.

Colonel Fitzwilliam joined his niece and cousin in song, adding his deep voice to their higher ones. At such an advantageous point in the room, with attention turned fully in their direction, he was always alert to the opportunity to grace a young woman with the need to giggle as he threw winks across the room to any young woman that was fortunate to catch his eye.

Mr. Bennet dearly enjoyed listening to the music and, like Charlotte, had gained the valuable skill of only half listening to his spouse; for Mrs. Bennet was using the performance to observe all the young men, noting the young men that looked suitable for her Kitty and those that would have to do for Mary.

Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner greeted old friends from Lambton, many of whom had been acquainted with Mrs. Gardiner from her childhood. They all had favorable comments to make about their young niece and her husband Mr. Darcy.

When Elizabeth and Georgiana had tired of performing, others took their place at the pianoforte as they returned to the dance floor. Elizabeth was shortly joined by Mr. Darcy and was later asked by other gentlemen for dances.

The evening passed delightfully and all too soon, the Darcys were distributing gifts from beneath the large tree and bidding their guests farewell and Merry Christmas. The first rays of dawn were peaking over the horizon as they waved farewell to the last carriage. The Collinses, the Gardiners, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and the Bingleys had already retired long before. Georgiana bade her brother and Elizabeth good night and trudged up the stairs, eager for sleep and time alone to savor the evening.

Elizabeth yawned in a most unladylike manner. “I've never been so sleepy in my life,” she exclaimed.

Darcy smiled sympathetically. “It's different being a hostess, there's a bit more effort involved.” He grinned wickedly. “And all those young women calling me Fitzwilliam and pretending as if I weren't married. I know your restraint exhausted you overmuch.”

She smiled thinly. “You should not tease if you do not like to be teased back.” Darcy chuckled and picked her up, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Indeed,” he agreed.

Elizabeth smiled and closed her eyes, drifting away to sleep long before he had even set foot at the top of the stairs. When they reached their chamber, she awoke long enough to change into her nightgown and let down her hair before she crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep once more.

Darcy smiled down at her, a soft curve of the lips that is never to be seen by the sleeping one, one that unknowingly reveals to the fullest extent just how dear the other is to the onlooker. He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear and kissed her gently.

“Merry Christmas, love, and sleep well,” he whispered, his lips brushing her dark curls.

Elizabeth did not awake until late afternoon, feeling fully refreshed. Darcy lay still asleep beside her, for after he had kissed her goodnight he had joined Charles for a game of billiards and a late night brandy. She quietly dressed and left their room that Darcy may sleep in undisturbed.

She made her way down to the kitchen where she coaxed some food from one of the maids and made sure each of the guests had received a meal. When she left the kitchen she was accosted by the Gardiner children who insisted she play them carols on the pianoforte. She had just finished one when she noticed Caroline standing in the doorway. Elizabeth gently urged the children to find a way to entertain themselves without disturbing the adults. Once they had left the room she turned to face Caroline.

Elizabeth nodded. “Good afternoon. How was your rest?”

Caroline discreetly wet her lips. “Very well, thank you.” She looked away from Elizabeth and then back at her, her hands playing fitfully with a handkerchief. The two young women stood in silence for a few moments before Caroline spoke up.

“I came to apologize for last night. It was wrong of me and I understand that you are his wife and I—I must become accustomed to that.” She awaited a response but when none came, she hurried on. “It's only that I spent so long imagining myself as his wife, imagining life at Pemberley with him, I—it's been hard to accept that I am not the one he loves. I understand that you are angry with me for last night—and other things. I know I have acted selfishly and I beg your pardon.”

She swallowed and looked down. Elizabeth crossed the room and placed a gentle hand over Caroline's. Their eyes met.

“I will not deny that I am angry with you for what you did last night. He is my husband and I comprehend that you must adjust but that in no way allows you to monopolize him or pretend that I do not exist. However, you are my guest and as I stated last night, I do not want you to experience the slightest discomfort in our hospitality. Therefore I suggest that we put last night behind us and try to move forward in as friendly a fashion as each of us can manage.”

Caroline nodded. “It was a wonderful ball last night. I greatly enjoyed myself with Mr. Penning,” she said shyly.

“I felt that you would, that is why I paired you with one another.”

“I suppose—,” her voice fell away as Charlotte hurried up to them, her appearance distraught as tears leaked over her cheeks.

“Whatever is the matter!” exclaimed Elizabeth, turning to her friend.

“It's William,” sobbed Charlotte, wringing her hands desperately. “I can't find him.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Is he not with his nurse?”

Charlotte shook her head. “She said she thought he was with me. I've looked everywhere! Leanne, Sarah, Edward, and Nat say they haven't seen him. They've been with their mother all morning!” Her voice caught on another sob and Elizabeth embraced her, attempting to soothe her friend's worry.

“We'll find him,” she murmured.

“Yes,” added Caroline, “we'll find him. Suppose each of us search a floor. Elizabeth, will you take the third, Charlotte the second?” They nodded. “And I'll take the first.”

The three women separated to their respective floors, calling for the little boy and looking through each room. Finally they returned to the foyer, each with no luck.

“We'll tell Darcy,” decided Elizabeth as she held Charlotte once more. “The others will help us look.”

They found Darcy in his study deeply concentrated on a game of backgammon against Charles. Mr. Collins offered his commentary, though overall he was largely ignored.

“Darcy,” said Elizabeth as she entered without knocking. He looked up, slightly annoyed at her interruption of his concentration. Upon seeing the women his look of annoyance faded to one of concern.

“What is it?” he demanded, standing. Charles turned to face them and rose as well.

“'Tis William, we cannot find him,” explained Elizabeth. “It's been over two hours.”

Mr. Collins shook his head and puffed out his chest, smiling at the women in a patronizing manner. “My dear Charlotte you are simply tired from last night! William is a growing boy, he is only having fun. He will be fine without his mother for a while I'll say. After all boys will be boys. He must have his independence.” He chuckled. “Do not worry. Why don't you join Mrs. Bingley, Georgiana, and Mrs. Gardiner in their embroidery? Willie will show up when he wants to.”

Elizabeth noticed a look of disgust pass briefly over Darcy's face before he regained his composure.

“I will alert Mrs. Reynolds. Lizzie, Jane, Georgiana, and Mrs. Gardiner are in the evening parlor, notify them as well but tell them that they are not needed.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I shall tell the children to help search as well. They will more than likely have an idea of where he might be.”

Darcy nodded and they all parted, leaving Mr. Collins standing alone in the study. Despite his confidence in William's quick return, the others were worried. Two hours was a long time for a two-years-old to be lost in such a large house.

Having alerted Mrs. Reynolds of William's disappearance, the searchers spanned out through the house once more, calling for the little boy. The children ran from room to room, calling out for him. After another hour of fruitless searching, Elizabeth turned to Mrs. Gardiner, Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Bennet, Mr. Bennet, Mary, Kitty, and Georgiana for help, insisting that Jane remain with Charlotte, who had become overwhelmed by the disappearance of her son and could only sob helplessly into her handkerchief. Mr. Collins joined the search, but he did little more than lecture on the carelessness of nurses. William's nurse was as distressed as Charlotte, but she insisted that she was still fit to search for the child.

Elizabeth had just finished searching the third floor for the third time when Mrs. Reynolds hurried up to her, wringing her hands.

“Mrs. Darcy, Nellie just told me something important.”

“What is it?” demanded Elizabeth, frightened by the urgency in Mrs. Reynolds' tone.

“The kitchen door, it's been cracked open all morning. The kitchen was so hot and—,” she trailed off as Elizabeth paled at the implication.

“Go tell Mr. Darcy, but discreetly. We do not need to upseteveryone, especially Charlotte. I'll go upstairs to find suitable winter wear for the searchers.”

The older woman nodded and hurried from the room. A few moments later, from a third floor window, Elizabeth saw a bundled up Darcy and Charles mounting their horses and nudge them into a gallop. She hurried from the window to the attic stairs at the end of the corridor to find the extra clothing.

She pulled the key from her pocket and pulled the door towards her, only to discover it was already open. With a frown, she put the key back into her pocket and pushed the door open. Cold air furled out from the darkness, drawing the warmth from her. She rushed back down the hall and lit a candle that rested on the table and hurried back to the attic door and pushed it open with her foot, shielding the candle flame as she started up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, Elizabeth went to light the candelabra, only to find that the candles had been burned to stubs. The maids had been up here for Christmas decorations and forgotten to replace them.

She had turned to go back down the steps to get replacements, when a small sound caught her attention. Elizabeth stopped and listened. A few moments later the sound came again.

“Hello?” she asked, feeling silly at talking to a creaking attic.

“Mama?” asked a voice.

Elizabeth gasped and nearly dropped the candle. “William? Where are you, dear?”

The little boy began to cry and Elizabeth followed the sound of his sobs to a stack of crates and a pile of broken chairs. “Where are you?” she called as she stumbled over a loose board. “Come out William, I can't see you.”

Desperately she pushed aside the chairs, calling for him. Her candle flickered out, leaving her in complete darkness. She dared not get another one, for fear of leaving William alone any longer. A sob of frustration escaped her lips. She should have brought an extra match, but in her rush she had left them on the table down stairs.

“William, can you hear my voice?” she asked.

Silence.

She asked again and this time the little boy answered. She dropped to her knees and crawled across the floor, pushing aside the chairs and praying that she would not dislodge something and send it crashing down upon her. Finally she came to a wardrobe and curled beside it was a sobbing William.

“William,” she gasped. He looked up and came to her. Elizabeth held him close, rocking his chilled body as he clung to her.

When he had calmed somewhat, she crawled out from behind the chairs and picked him up, before she felt her way back to the stairs, stumbling several times and grimacing in dismay when she stepped on the hem of her dress and heard a terrible tearing sound. All the while, William clutched her neck and she could feel his little chest rise and fall quickly as he sobbed into her shoulder.

After what seemed like an age, Elizabeth reached the top of the stairs and hurried down them as fast as she could, calling for Charlotte. She stumbled from the attic, blinking as the bright hall met her eyes which had become accustomed to the darkness.

She waited only long enough for her eyes to readjust before she ran down the hall, calling for Charlotte as loud as she could. She reached the end of the corridor and hurried down the steps. Footsteps pounded on the floor below as she alighted at the foot of the stairs. Mr. Gardiner, Charlotte, Kitty, and Rensler came running towards her.

“You found him!” cried Charlotte as Elizabeth handed the sobbing child over to his mother. She clutched him desperately as she kissed his cold cheeks. Tears ran down her face and soft sobs escaped from her lips.

“Rensler, tell Mrs. Reynolds that we have found William and tell her to draw up a bath as soon as possible,” instructed Elizabeth. “Kitty, tell the others we've found him, and Uncle, please find a way to alert Darcy and Charles that they should come back.”

They all nodded and hurried off to complete their allotted tasks while Elizabeth led the sobbing Charlotte and William to their room and helped Charlotte undress the boy and wrap in warm blankets. Mrs. Reynolds filled the bath shortly and William's nurse returned to help Charlotte bathe the still sobbing William. When the bath was finished, Charlotte tried to put William into bed but he refused to let go of her. Finally she took a seat in a chair and Mrs. Reynolds wrapped the boy in blankets and spoon warm broth down his throat. Eventually he quieted and fell asleep against Charlotte, his small arms wrapped tightly around her neck.

Elizabeth left with Mrs. Reynolds as Charlotte rocked a slumbering William back and forth, silent tears running down her cheeks.

Darcy awaited them outside the room and after Elizabeth shut the door quietly she went to him and he held her tightly, stroking her hair with his gloved hand. After a while, she suggested that they both bathe as she was filthy and he must be cold.

An hour later, when they had both freshened up, Mrs. Reynolds brought them supper in their chamber, as the others had been instructed to dine without them.

“Where did you find him?” asked Darcy, after he took a sip of his soup as they sat at a table that had been brought in for them. “You had a huge rent in your dress and your hair was falling out of its bun.”

“I found him in the attic while I was searching for extra clothing. The door was open and he must have wandered up there.”

“I am thankful that he did not wander outside. If he has a cold after remaining up there for however long, imagine what would have happened had he been outside.”

“That is something I am trying to prevent myself from imagining,” she said softly, biting her lip to keep back the tears that threatened to overflow.

Darcy set his spoon down and took her hand in his warm one, and gently massaged her palm with his thumb. “He is safe. Do not worry about what could have been, but what was.”

Elizabeth nodded as a lump rose in her throat. She wasn't hungry anymore, though she had hardly eaten over the past two days. Darcy noticed her expression and rose from the table and knelt by her side. She threw her arms around him and sobbed into his shoulder as he stroked her back.

“I should have warned the maids to be more careful,” she sobbed. “I should have taken extra precautions for who can expect them to remember such things when there are hardly ever little children about. Suppose he had died. Charlotte would never have forgiven me and I would have had to live for the rest of my life knowing that I had taken her most treasured possession from her.”

Darcy pulled away from her and rested a gentle finger on her lips, quieting her. “Do not blame yourself, Lizzie. There are precautions we all should have taken, but forgot to. There is too much blame present to lay upon each person. Yes, perhaps you should have warned the maids to be extra cautious and they should have locked the doors after themselves anyway. Charlotte should have been more aware of her son's whereabouts and William's nurse should have known exactly where he was at all times and not made any assumptions. We all should have kept an eye on him; after all he is only two. Do not fret over something that has been done, for now we will take extra precautions. It is lucky that you thought to search the attic for extra winter clothing. It was you who found him.”

He ran his hand over her back in soothing motions until she quieted. Embarrassed at her tears, she took the handkerchief that Darcy offered her and dabbed her eyes.

“I don't know what's gotten into me lately,” she apologized. “I used to be so logical and pragmatic; something like this would never have upset me so.”

“You still are logical and pragmatic,” Darcy said firmly, looking her in the eyes.

Elizabeth's lip quivered as she thought of something else. “I'm also a coward,” she admitted softly.

Darcy's eyebrows shot up. “Why, because you were afraid for William?”

She shook her head and fiddled with the handkerchief in her hands. “No,” she said quietly, “I am a coward because I've been too afraid to ask you something.”

“What is it?” he asked, perplexed.

Elizabeth hesitated, twisting the handkerchief mercilessly. “How you felt about children,” she said in a rush, hardly audible as her cheeks warmed.

Darcy stood and drew her to her feet; she was surprised to see that his cheeks were slightly red. He swallowed. “Are you—are you with child?” he asked as his face reddened further.

She shook her head and she was further astonished to see hiscountenance fall. After a moment's hesitation, she placedherhand gently on his cheek. “Do you mean to say that you do want children?”

He nodded. “Why would you think I did not?” he said softly. “I thought we had discussed it before we married.”

Elizabeth blushed. “I did not know if you had changed your mind or…it just did not seem as large an issue before now. I suppose I believed that if later you did not want children I would not mind. And then Jane told me her news and I started wondering if perhaps I would mind if you did not want children. When William came, I could hardly think of anything else I wanted more than children of our own.”

Darcy smiled gently. “Did you not guess that I wanted an heir?” he teased.

Elizabeth frowned. “Of course you want an heir. But, but do you truly want children? Is there a difference?”

He pulled her to him. “I am glad you see that distinction. Yes, there is a difference between wanting an heir to carry on your name and fortune and wanting children to love and care for. But Lizzie, I do want children for us to love and to raise together, to be constant reminders of our love for one another. I see the happiness shared between Charles and Jane as they await their first child, and though I do not envy them, and I—I want something similar for us, to share that same kind of intimacy with you.”

Elizabeth smiled and buried her face in his chest, feeling as if a heavy, suffocating cloak had been lifted from her shoulders. They stood in a tight embrace for a few moments before Elizabeth looked up at him.

“I love you, Fitzwilliam,” she murmured, her lips brushing his. Darcy paused for a momentbefore their lips met in a gentle, profound kiss.

“I love you, too, Elizabeth,” he said as he released her lips and carried her to their bed.

The next morning William's cold and fever had subsided to a runny nose, for which all were thankful. He refused to leave Charlotte's side and she his; for the first time during their stay he took breakfast with them. Mr. Collins insisted that she was spoiling him, but no one minded the little boy's presence.

After breakfast Jane and Elizabeth decided to go on a walk through the snow covered grounds of Pemberley as Jane claimed she could not tolerate being shut inside one more day. They donned warmer clothing and within the hour they were outside, walking down one of the snow covered paths of the garden. Elizabeth breathed in the fresh air happily and marveled at the icicle draped trees.

“Winter is so magical,” she sighed, reaching down to scoop up a handful of snow and letting it filter through her fingers.

“You seem so happy today,” observed Jane, smiling at her sister.

“Oh, Jane, you have no idea!” exclaimed Elizabeth.

“Is there a particular reason for this joy?”

The younger sister chuckled. “Darcy and I sorted out a few things last night and I feel so relieved, so much lighter.”

Jane nodded wisely. “It can be such when you share overburdening thoughts and feelings with one another.”

Elizabeth nodded and took Jane's hand as they walked in content silence, their footsteps crunching in the snow. Eventually they came to a small bridge which arched over a frozen stream. Its stone peaked through the snow, as if to remind the world of its presence. Elizabeth realized they had come quite far and Jane really should not be out in the cold for too long.

“We should return soon,” she said as she noticed that Jane was tiring. “You do not want to exhaust yourself.”

Jane nodded gratefully and linked her arm through Elizabeth's, leaning on her for support as they turned around to return to Pemberley.

“Elizabeth, I want you to be with me before this child is born,” said Jane softly.

“Of course, I was planning on staying with you from February to the baby's birth.”

Jane smiled. “Good.”

Upon their return, Jane went upstairs to bathe and rest and Elizabeth changed out of her damp clothing. After dinner, Elizabeth tried to speak to her mother, but she had not forgotten their conversation the day before Christmas. Mrs. Bennet spoke coolly to her daughter and complained loudly of her nerves. Therefore Elizabeth spent the remainder of the afternoon in her father's company. In the evening, Leanne and Edward coaxed Elizabeth into a game of hide and seek, Elizabeth frequently finding herself to be the counter regardless of how quickly she was found. Little Nat fell asleep in his last hiding place and Elizabeth carried him to his bedroom and readied him for bed before tucking him in. She said goodnight to Edward and then the girls, who were arguing over who took up the most space in the bed, before joining the adults downstairs.

Two days later, Elizabeth stood in the foyer, hugging little William tightly. Since she had found him in the attic, he had become rather attached to her, crawling into her lap when she was sitting and clutching her skirts when she was standing. She was ever so happy to give him the attention he wanted and she often caught Darcy watching her tenderly as she stroked the boy's hair or rocked him gently.

Now she reluctantly set him down and hugged his mother. “Write often Charlotte,” she reminded her friend.

Charlotte smiled. “Of course I will.” Neither mentioned that it would be a long while before they saw one another, as Charlotte could not often leave Kent and Elizabeth was surely not welcome anywhere near Rosings.

Mr. Collins bowed to Darcy, thanking him profusely for their hospitality and assuring the young man of his favorable tidings to Darcy's aunt. Mr. Collins then bade Elizabeth farewell, bestowing lavish compliments upon her hospitality and home.

Mrs. Collins picked up a warmly dressed William and followed her husband to their carriage as they waved farewell to all those remaining at Pemberley.

Elizabeth stood in the driveway long after everyone had returned within the house. She waved to her friend until the carriage disappeared down the tree-lined drive. Even after it faded away she remained outside, watching the spot where she had last been able to see the carriage.

“Lizzie, you'll catch your death standing out here,” said Darcy as he hurried down the steps to her with her cloak. He put draped it tenderly about her shoulders.

She glanced up at him. “You're not wearing a wrap, either,” she said.

“Then I suppose we should both return inside,” he suggested.

Elizabeth nodded and followed him into the house.

The remainder of her day was spent with her parents and Mary as they would be leaving with Caroline, Jane, and Charles the next day. Shortly after their departure, the Gardiners said goodbye, as Uncle Gardiner had to be in London by the new year. When their carriage had disappeared with the children waving and calling last goodbyes, the Darcys and Kitty returned to their now relatively empty home.

Kitty went off to arrange a bonnet, though it was winter, and Georgiana went to her room to finish a book that she had neglected over the holidays.

Darcy looked around the foyer, at the drooping decorations, and the empty rooms. “It seems so empty,” he said.

Elizabeth smiled. “Sometimes I enjoy that solitude.”

“Is that a suggestion?” asked Darcy, turning to face her, a boyish grin on his face.

She shook her head. “No, just an observation.” She kissed him on the cheek and left him in the foyer to spend some time with Georgiana.

Elizabeth tapped lightly at the girl's door.

“Who is it?”

“Lizzie.”

“Come in.” Elizabeth entered and went directly to Georgiana's alcove where she was curled up with her book.

“It seems like forever since we've spoken,” said Elizabeth, sinking onto the sofa.

Georgiana smiled and set aside her book. “You were busy with our guests and the holidays.”

“You're so like Jane, supplying a kind reason for every action.” Elizabeth twisted her wedding band nervously. “I've wanted to ask you how you felt about my holiday preparations.”

Georgiana did not look astonished at such a question. “Lizzie, I have never before enjoyed the holidays as I did this year. The reason I lost my enthusiasm was because, well, I knew you were nervous. I wanted you to be the one involved in all the preparations so that when someone asked how something was done, you could answer them on your own. I wanted everyone to know that you were suited as Darcy's wife.”

Elizabeth smiled and went to embrace Georgiana. “Thank you, for everything,” she said.

Georgiana shook her head. “I should be the one to thank you. You've done more for me than I could ever explain.”

The older woman chuckled. “Then I suppose I shan't know what I'm being thanked for.”

“I believe not.”

They laughed and Elizabeth took a seat beside Georgiana.

“What is the book you are reading?” she asked.

The younger girl held up the book and Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. “He gave it to you too?”

“A Proper Englishwoman's Deportment? Yes.”

“How are you enjoying it?”

“A few years ago I would have absorbed every bit of it and followed it exactly. Now that I've met you and Jane, I realize that I do not want to be a submissive wife, but a wife like you, one that demands her husband's respect and gives it in return.”

Elizabeth put an arm around Georgiana. “I believe that you must be the wife that fits you.”

“How will I know how to be the wife that fits me?”

“When a man proposes to you, if you are truly in love with him, you'll be able to predict what your marriage to him will be like. And you'll know if it fits you or not. If you can live the way he expects you to behave as his wife for the remainder of your life, then you accept and fulfill the duty as the wife he expects you to be. If you cannot live that way, well, I would say refuse him.”

“Lizzie, when did you become so wise?”

“Is that a jest?”

“No.”

“Well, then I will say this. I would not consider myself wise. I only had three proposals to learn from, a few more than most young women receive.”

Georgiana grinned. “Two of them were my brother's; will you tell me the third?”

“If I do, you mustn't tease me,” Elizabeth said sternly, though her eyes twinkled.

“You have my word.” Georgiana waited in delightful anticipation.

“My first was Mr. Collins,” admitted Elizabeth.

Georgiana broke out in a fit of giggles. “I'm sorry I gave my word! Mr. Collins!”

“Yes, well, being attractive is not always a favorable virtue.”

She looked up in time to see Kitty watching them from the doorway. Upon being noticed, the girl turned and hurried away, but not before Elizabeth caught sight of the expression on her face.

Two days prior to Jane's Twelfth Night ball, Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Kitty went ice skating on the frozen stream. While Elizabeth had become a proficient ice skater the winter before when she had visited Darcy and Georgiana at Pemberley, Kitty had never skated before and fell quite frequently. After a few falls, she slipped and slid her way back to the bank, refusing to try once more. She watched enviously as Georgiana and Elizabeth did figure eights on the ice. Finally after Elizabeth's gentle teasing and Georgiana's patient encouragements, she tried again. After a few circles with Elizabeth and Georgiana supporting her on either side, Kitty was able to stay balanced and the delightful afternoon ended with the young women having a snow ball fight as they skated across the frozen water, dodging snowballs and sending others flying in each direction.

Kitty collapsed onto the bank, panting as she knocked away one of Elizabeth's snowballs. A few moments later, Georgiana fell beside her as she caught her breath.

“I'm finished,” said Kitty.

Elizabeth laughed. “Shall we return home then?”

Both Georgiana and Kitty agreed emphatically and all three young women raced home, their soaked hems and cloaks weighing them down, all completely unaware of the spectacle they created as they ran in a most unladylike fashion towards the house. The last one there was to get hot tea for the rest while the first had to carry her skates up the stairs. Georgiana won and Kitty came in last but she was so sore from all the falling she had done, that Elizabeth took pity on her and accepted the responsibility of getting the tea.

Elizabeth pushed her wet hair from her face as they entered the foyer. She could hear Mrs. Reynolds and unfamiliar voices down the hall. There must be visitors, she thought, remembering how she and her aunt and uncle had toured Pemberley what seemed like years before. Georgiana and Kitty hurried up the steps at the sound of the voices.

Elizabeth hurried after them, but her foot slipped in one of the puddles the girls had left and her feet flew from under her as she fell painfully onto her rear just as Mrs. Reynolds entered the foyer. She looked desperately at the housekeeper begging her to go back, but it was too late, the visitors had seen her.

With as much dignity as she could, Elizabeth rose from the floor, a slight blush colouring her cheeks.

“Welcome to Pemberley,” she said, as if she were dressed in her finest instead of being soaked and smelling of wet wool.

“This is Mrs. Darcy,” said Mrs. Reynolds, proudly. “Mistress of Pemberley.”

The visitors, a young woman and gentleman and an elderly woman, looked at her in utter astonishment, the elegant Mrs. Darcy they had seen in the portraits about the house bearing little resemblance to the woman that stood before them.

“Mrs. Reynolds if you would be kind enough to bring the girls and me some tea, I would greatly appreciate it,” said Elizabeth after an awkward pause.

“Yes, ma'am,” curtsied Mrs. Reynolds and after Elizabeth bade the visitors farewell, she hurried them off to another part of the house.

Elizabeth grasped her wet clothing and held it daintily as she ascended the stairs as if nothing had happened. At the top, Georgiana and Kitty, having witnessed the entire scene, burst into uncontrollable giggles. Elizabeth glared at them as she swept past them and down the corridor to her bedroom where Darcy awaited her, a large smirk gracing his lips.

She groaned. “You saw it as well?”

He nodded. “I will not tease you though. I believe Georgiana has forgotten three years ago when she lost her clothing when she went to a secluded pond. She returned home in her underclothing, only to find unexpected guests taking a tour through the back way to her bedroom. After such a mortifying experience, she demanded that I have the back way put out of bounds. Unfortunately we cannot do the same for the foyer.”

Elizabeth sighed and drew off her wet cloak. “I can only imagine the stories they shall tell about me when they return home.”

Darcy smiled and helped her from her wet clothing. “They shall therefore have a lasting memory of their visit to Pemberley and their encounter with its Mistress. If it's any comfort, you looked just as beautiful as the day you arrived at Netherfield, covered in mud after your walk from Longbourn when you heard of your sister's illness.”

“That is not at all comforting,” replied Elizabeth dryly.

“It was the day I truly fell in love with you.”

“Then we shall all pray that that young man falls in love with me so my appearance may be forgotten.”

Darcy frowned. “He was not what I would call attractive,” he said haughtily.

Meredith poked her head from Elizabeth's dressing room and announced timidly that her bath was ready.

“Jealous?” Elizabeth asked her husband.

“Hardly.”

“And you did not find the young woman attractive either?” she prompted.

He smiled down at her. “As I stated, the day I truly fell in love with you, you were coated in mud. Today reminded me of that day.” He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead.

Elizabeth smiled and went to soak in her warm bath.

The following day found the Darcys and Kitty on their way to Jane and Charles' new estate, Blithebury. Georgiana, Elizabeth, and Kitty sat close to one another in the coach with several layers of blankets draped over their skirts, keeping the cold at bay. Darcy rode his horse, as he found the small carriage to be far to confining.

All were relieved to escape the cold when they finally arrived at Blithebury. Although it had been less than a week since they had last seen one another, Elizabeth and Jane embraced happily. Caroline greeted Elizabeth as cordially as she was able, and Charles welcomed her with all the warmth of a brother greeting his sister.

They were shown to their rooms where they were able to discard their travel clothes. When she had finished changing, Elizabeth looked about the room in which she and Darcy would be staying. It was smaller than the Pemberley guestrooms but, nevertheless, it exuded a similar sense of warmth and welcome.

Elizabeth sighed happily and sank into a large chair where warmth and sleep overcame her and she nodded off.

She was gently shaken awake by Darcy who announced that it was suppertime. She followed him down the stairs to the Bingleys' dining chamber where Darcy seated her before taking the seat beside hers. Supper was delightful and shortly afterward, the Bingleys and their guests retired for the evening.

Elizabeth stood in front of the mirror, brushing out her hair. In the mirror, she watched as Darcy climbed into the bed.

“The ball will be filled with handsome young men tomorrow,” she said.

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Do I have need to feel alarmed by such an observation?”

Elizabeth giggled nervously. “Perhaps yes, and perhaps no.”

He frowned. “What is it, Lizzie?” he asked gravely.

She sighed and set her brush down, turning to face him. She wet her lips, knowing that the subject on which she was about to broach would irritate him considerably.

“Georgiana is seventeen,” she started slowly.

“I am fully aware of my sister's age.”

“Then why do you seem adamant about preventing her from associating too closely with young men her age? Every time a young man wants to request a dance of her, he must ask you. She is fully capable of allowing a man a dance.”

Darcy was silent as he scowled at the fire and Elizabeth pressed on. “It's because of Wickham, is it not? But Wickham is the past, a mistake of judgment which she made two years ago.”

“She nearly married him,” snapped Darcy.

“But she did not. She told you, meaning that she trusted you. She trusted you enough to believe you had a right to be involved in one of the greatest decisions of her life. Can you not trust her to understand and learn from her mistakes? Georgiana has matured since then.”

“She is still a child,” he said tersely.

“For how much longer, Darcy? Until she is too old to obtain a man of her choice? Until the man she loves wearies of waiting?”

“She's my sister; I only want to do what's best for her.”

Elizabeth scowled. “What's best for her, or what's best for you?” she asked. “You were frightened when you nearly lost her to Wickham; you had almost failed what you had promised your mother and father—to look out for her, to be a parent figure to her. But it's not your fault what happened. We both know Wickham's depravity, Darcy. You have to stop believing you failed Georgiana!”

“I'm only trying to protect her from another incident such as the one that very nearly occurred two years ago.”

“You have to let her go, sometime,” Elizabeth said softly.

“I'm sure you are so knowledgeable on the appropriate time to let my sister fend for herself,” he sneered. “Your younger sister is a perfect example.”

“Lydia has nothing to do with this,” she said icily.

Darcy glared at her. “I'm doing what I believe is best for her, and I do not need you to question my every decision.”

“Is that you or your pride speaking?” Elizabeth spat. “Deep down you know it is time to release her, but you cling to her, afraid of losing her, after all, she's the closest family you have left and you were deigned capable of looking out for her. You're holding onto her because you're too afraid to let go of her, too afraid to lose her forever. You want her to be the little Georgiana that clung to you when she cried, the bright girl that pulled you through the loss of your father, the Georgiana that looked to you for everything.”

“Do not tell me what I feel,” he flung at her.

“I'm only telling you because you refuse to see it yourself,” Elizabeth hurled back, her face hot with anger.

“Well I'd thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. Your upbringing has little prepared you for understanding the complexities of the reputation of a wealthy woman.”

Elizabeth blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

Darcy rose from the bed. “I mean to say that you and your sisters were brought up recklessly, irregardless of your reputations and futures,” he scorned. “You and Jane were fortunate to have enough sense to be concerned with yours. You do not understand the complexities of a wealthy, young woman's reputation.”

Elizabeth tried to swallow the lump that was rising in her throat. “You do not understand the complexities of an adolescent woman,” she threw back at him. Her voice caught and she tried to blink the tears from her eyes. “And do you, for a moment, believe that tossing a compliment will smooth over the insult you just directed towards my family,” she asked, her voice hardly audible.

“We seem to be sharing one another's unseen feelings,” returned Darcy coldly, his dark eyes sparking.

“When I said yes to you, I thought you had seen past your pride,” she gasped, as a tear leaked down her cheek. “I see I was wrong.” She turned on her heel and marched from the room, slamming the door behind her.

Not knowing where to go, Elizabeth sank to the floor and buried her face in her arms to muffle her sobs.

A few moments later, comforting arms encircled her and Jane murmured soothingly, as she stroked Elizabeth's hair. Elizabeth let her sister lead her to a warm room and make her sit on the sofa. Her soft sobbing filled the room as she watched with swollen eyes as Jane stoked the fire and then came to sit beside her again, wrapping her arms around her and rocking her gently.

“Now, dear, tell me what is wrong,” said Jane when Elizabeth fell quiet.

Haltingly, Elizabeth recounted the entire argument to her sister. “I know he didn't mean what he said, at the end at least,” she said when she had finished relating what had occurred. “I knew how he felt about Georgiana. I should not have pushed him so far.”

“Do not blame yourself, for you are both at fault,” Jane said softly, wiping the tears from Elizabeth's cheeks. “You should not have provoked him once he was angry and he should not have said what he said to you about your family.” She sighed. “Unfortunately, I believe that you each may have spoken a bit too truthfully for the other's liking.”

Elizabeth smiled thinly. “No wonderfully kind excuses for either of our behavior?” she asked.

Jane did not smile. “I've realized that sometimes it is better not to explain away hurtful behavior but to observe it neutrally until a just answer can be reached.”

Elizabeth mulled over Jane's words before she spoke. “May I have another room, for the evening? I believe Darcy and I need a night apart.”

Jane smoothed Elizabeth's hair from her face. “Are you sure?”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes.”

Jane rose and showed Elizabeth to a room, makingsure her sister was situated.

“Do not worry, Lizzie," she said,hugging Elizabethcomfortingly. "It will all be better in the morning, you'll see.”

For Jane's sake, Elizabeth nodded and murmured words of agreement. But long after Jane had left, Elizabeth lay awake. Her anger and hurt lingered over her like a deep chill that refuses to be dislodged evenby thewarmth of afire. As hard as she tried, she was not able to be quite as forgiving as Jane.

Elizabeth rose late the next morning to find that Jane had had breakfast sent to her room. She had just finished eating when Kitty swirled in, her face smelling of lemons and her brown curls tied up in rags.

“Would you look, Lizzie? Georgiana loaned me this for the ball! She said there is a matching bracelet as well!” she exclaimed, brushing her neck to show off the thin silver necklace inlaid with diamonds. “Are they not beautiful?”

“They're beautiful and they go wonderfully with your gray eyes,” agreed Elizabeth.

“Don't they?” Kitty rushed over to the mirror to gaze at herself, trying different smiles and quickly discarding them until she found one she liked. She turned to Elizabeth.

“How does this one make me look?” she asked, showing her sister her smile.

“Very becoming,” complimented Elizabeth.

“But it doesn't show off my dimples,” Kitty sighed in despair. She turned back to the mirror and began the process all over again.

“I wonder where Georgiana got such a beautiful necklace,” she chatted gaily as she smiled and decided that she was showing too much of her teeth. She tried another smile and batted her eyelashes at herself.

“Darcy and I gave them to her for her birthday,” Elizabeth answered absently as she rested her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm, curling her fingers toward her lips.

Kitty's new smile fell as her eyes narrowed and the ends of her lips turned downward in a pout. “Oh. It was a suitable birthday gift. She absolutely loves them.”

“Then it was kind of her to lend them to you,” said Elizabeth.

“Indeed,” said Kitty, as she simpered at her image but let the smile fall, no longer interested in how she looked. She turned to her sister to complain about the length of her dress when she noticed the slept in bed and the absence of Elizabeth's clothing.

“This isn't your room, is it Lizzie?” she asked, her eyes lighting with curiosity.

“I slept here,” answered Elizabeth, sighing internally and for a moment wishing that Kitty were Lydia. Her other younger sister would have swept in, admired herself, and left again, only half noticing that Elizabeth was in the room. Unfortunately Kitty was far more observant for all her chatter and attention to her appearance.

At that moment Darcy appeared in the doorway. “Good morning, Kitty, Elizabeth,” he said. “Georgiana told me that I would find you here.”

The sisters remained silent, Kitty unsure of whom he was addressing and Elizabeth only nodding coldly in response. Kitty looked between her sister and her husband, noticing the chill that wafted between them. For once she kept her thoughts to herself, though she could not wait to relate the exchange to her mother. Kitty bobbed a curtsy to Darcy, for despite her relation to him, she still found his presence to be austere and formidable, and crept from the room.

Darcy shut the door behind her and Kitty paused wondering if she should listen at the doorway. Before she could come to a decision, Georgiana appeared down the hall.

“Nan says it is time to take down your hair and wash your face,” she said quietly.

Kitty linked arms with her. “Where is Darcy and Lizzie's room?” she asked conversationally.

Georgiana hesitated and Kitty kept her smile on her face, though she knew that Georgiana knew exactly what was going on between Darcy and Elizabeth. “Oh, never mind. Come along.”

Darcy stood at the door, his hands clasped firmly behind him. The corner of his mouth twitched, revealing his discomfort.

“You did not knock,” said Elizabeth curtly.

“You did not return last night,” he said.

“I slept here.”

He frowned and looked around the room, not knowing how to respond.

“Have you anything more to say?”

“For now, no,” he said.

“Then would you please excuse yourself that I may get ready?”

Without another word he left the room, jerking the door shut behind him.

Elizabeth slumped in her chair as she stared moodily at the place where her husband had stood, dwelling on the events of the previous night. An urge to rush after him and ask for his forgiveness swept over her but a stubborn voice in her mind told her that it was time for him to become accustomed to apologizing. After all, of the two offenses, his was the worst. Was it even an offense, or a truth which Elizabeth was not yet ready to face? Either way he had no right to say what he had about her family. Why had he come to her room anyway? Was he expecting an apology? Well, he is not going to receive one.

“Am I just being stubborn or petty?” she asked to the air. No answer came and she pushed herself out of the chair with a groan. She would go mad if she sat in the room all day and dwelled on last night.

Elizabeth knocked gently at Georgiana's door. It was opened by Kitty whose face was now covered in a white creme.

“I thought this was Georgiana's room,” she said as Kitty pulled her in.

“It is, but she said I could ready here. Come I need you to recommend which slippers I should wear this evening.”

Kitty shut the door and dragged Elizabeth over to her trunk. She sank to the floor and pulled out four pairs of slippers.

“The blue,” said Elizabeth immediately not allowing Kitty the chance to point out the pros and cons of each pair.

“That is what Georgiana said,” replied Kitty as she stuffed the other three pair back into her trunk.

“Where is she?” asked Elizabeth.

“I'm here.” Georgiana sat curled up in a chair, a book resting in her lap.

“I told her she mustn't read so often,” said Kitty. “How ever will she understand young men if she does not review each one and compare them? Now that Mr. Errington was quite attractive, his—,”

“I believe Georgiana is trying to read,” interrupted Elizabeth shortly, not in the humor for Kitty's senseless chatter.

Kitty fell silent as her mouth became a thin line. “I can see why Darcy won't share a bedroom with you. You're insufferable!” She tossed her hair and stalked from the room.

“Does anyone else want to be angry with me?” asked Elizabeth.

Georgiana shifted uncomfortably. “Elizabeth I—I heard you last night. I went and got Jane,” she admitted quietly as her face crimsoned.

Elizabeth sighed and sank onto Georgiana's bed. “I'm sorry,” she said, unsure of what else to say.

Georgiana nodded and played with the end of one of her curls. Suddenly Elizabeth realized why she must be so quiet. Georgiana was also Darcy's sister. It was not fair to make her feel caught in the middle of their argument.

“Well, I suppose I had better begin preparing for this evening. I do not want to be late.” She tried to smile, but her lips did not cooperate and her smile turned out to be more of a grimace. Elizabeth left Georgiana's room and decided to do as she had said she would and returned the room that had been given to her and Darcy to prepare for the evening.

Elizabeth emerged from her dressing room hours later, dressed for the evening. Darcy rose when she entered the room.

“One of the servants summoned us downstairs.”

She nodded and took his proffered arm. His glance revealed that he had noticed that the distance she maintained between them was that of a courting pair. He said nothing and made no motion to move closer. They left the room together and descended the stairs to the first floor as guests flowed into the foyer. Elizabeth moved slightly closer to Darcy, not wanting anyone to recognize and interpret the space between them.

Darcy and Elizabeth shared three dances the entire evening, though Elizabeth was delighted to see that Georgiana danced frequently with men of her choice. Kitty of course tried to dance with every man available.

She was standing at the refreshment table when she caught sight of Caroline Bingley standing next to Darcy, deep in conversation, though it appeared one sided. She saw Elizabeth watching her and smirked prettily before turning to her sister, Mrs. Hurst, and saying something that made the both of them laugh.

The long awaited moment of the ball arrived when the time came to slice the Twelfth Night Cake. Jane stood beside Charles as she took the knife and sliced the first piece as the gathered guests burst out in applause. She blushed and slid the piece onto a plate and handed it to Charles.

She sliced the next piece for herself and then the servants swept in, slicing and distributing slices to the eager guests. Every young woman searched eagerly for the bean and prayed that she had not received the villainous clove or the foolish twig and secretly hoping, that if she did not receive the bean, she would get the tarty rag.

Jane came to Elizabeth's side, carrying a second plate. She handed it to Elizabeth.

“And when you finish that one, you can eat this one,” she said.

“Don't you want to find the bean?” asked Elizabeth, taking her slice.

“Not at the risk of being indisposed for the rest of the evening because the cake was too rich.” Jane wrinkled her nose, making Elizabeth laugh.

A burst of exclamations rang out as a young man found the hidden clove in his slice. All the young women around him giggled as the young men applauded him and clapped him on the back.

Another young woman burst into sobs as she found a twig.

“People put far too much concern into what they receive,” observed Elizabeth.

Jane's lips quirked into a small smile. “If I recall correctly you were quite excited when you received the bean last year.”

Elizabeth imitated Kitty's indignant sniff and Jane giggled.

A quarter of an hour later, the bean had still not been found. The young women forgot about the proper lady's appetite and returned to the table for second, third, and even fourth slices of cake as the young men urged them on.

Elizabeth started on Jane's slice of cake, savoring its rich taste. She decided that even should she be with child at this time next year, she would rather be sick for the rest of the evening than miss it.

She took another bite and her lips puckered.

“Is something wrong?” asked Jane in concern as Elizabeth raised her hand to her mouth.

Elizabeth shook her head and spit the bean out into her hand, her eyes widening in surprise. Jane was about to call attention to her when she grabbed her sister's hand.

Jane looked at her in surprise. “What is it? You found the bean!”

“I—I don't want to be Queen,” replied Elizabeth.

Jane looked puzzled. Elizabeth and Kitty had always competed for the bean as children. She remembered how sick Elizabeth had been after eating seven slices of cake to find it when she was thirteen.

“I shall return shortly,” said Elizabeth and she hurried off before Jane could stop her. She skirted through the crowd, searching for Georgiana. She found her in a chair surrounded by young men, urging her to get a third slice of cake.

“You'll be the most beautiful Queen,” said one.

“The crown shall become you,” insisted another.

“Yes, Georgiana, I do not see the harm in a third slice,” added Elizabeth. Georgiana looked up, her cheeks flushed from all the attention. “Come, we shall get another slice together.”

Georgiana rose and followed Elizabeth to the table which was surrounded by a crowd of young men. When they turned from the table, there were no more slices left.

“There's no more,” said Georgiana, sounding relieved.

Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose not.”

Georgiana looked at Elizabeth, her eyebrows arching in surprise. “The bean, you have it!”

Elizabeth's lips parted as Georgiana took her hand and opened up her fingers. The small, white bean rested in the middle of her palm. Her eyes met Georgiana's and the girl smiled as she realized what her sister had attempted to do. Before either of them could say anything, the young woman beside them noticed the bean in Elizabeth's outstretched hand.

“She has it! The bean! Mrs. Darcy's found the bean!”

Guests rushed to their side, the young women to examine it and offer their sincere congratulations as they attempted to hide their envious expressions, and the young men in the hope of being selected as King.

Charles and Jane approached Elizabeth, Jane carrying a beautiful crown, woven of ivy and beautiful blue flowers. She handed the crown to her husband and he set it gently upon Elizabeth's head and bowed. Jane dropped into a deep curtsy as Charles straightened and announced loudly,

“I crown thee, Elizabeth Darcy, Queen of Twelfth Night.”

Caroline draped an ethereal mantle of sheer, white material upon Elizabeth's shoulders and handed her a scepter of wood wound with ivy and the flowers that matched her crown.

“Your majesty, please name your king,” said Charles.

Elizabeth looked about the room and found Darcy. For a moment her anger at him pulsed through her and she was urged to select another as King.

“I name Fitzwilliam Darcy as my King.”

After Darcy had been crowned they led a dance and then Darcy excused himself, much to the disappointment of the young women who had waited to dance with the King. As Queen of Twelfth Night, Elizabeth was asked for dance after dance. The young Mr. Errington approached her and bowed over her hand.

“May I have this dance or shall your king have my head?” he asked, his blue eyes twinkling up at her.

Elizabeth smiled. “I am Queen and therefore possess the right to give my consent to whomever I would care to dance with. I would be delighted.”

Mr. Errington swept her out onto the floor.

“Mrs. Darcy, that crown certainly becomes you,” he said.

Elizabeth's lips twitched. “Why, thank you. Georgiana said you were a wonderful dancer. I see she was quite accurate.”

“And Miss Bingley said you were but a mediocre partner. I see she has not danced with you as you dance wonderfully.” He frowned. “I apologize, I should not have spoken ill of Miss Bingley.”

She grinned. “Do not worry; your slip is safe with me.”

He grinned back. “I believe you are quite capable of keeping a secret.”

“I find that the highest compliment I have received this evening,” Elizabeth jested. “A compliment exempt from the limitations and expectations of my sex.”

Mr. Errington laughed. “You are the most delightful conversationalist I have encountered this evening, perhaps barring only your sister, Jane.”

“I have seen you quite often with Georgiana.”

He faltered, unsure of how to respond. Elizabeth's eyes crinkled with amusement.

“But she's quiet. It is difficult to converse with her, though every time she speaks it is to provide the most delightful conversation.” Elizabeth leaned closer to him, her eyes shining. “Do not worry; neither shall I reveal how you found conversing with a young lady difficult. It is quite obvious it would raise questions of your reputation. I would not want to be the one responsible for tainting it!”

Mr. Errington threw back his head and laughed, making Elizabeth blush. When the dance was over, he bowed over hand once more.

“Mr. Darcy is fortunate to have a wife such as you. I only wish I should be so lucky to find such a woman.”

Elizabeth stood speechless as he kissed her hand and sauntered away. The man was a shameless flirt! A shameless, charming flirt.

When the evening had slipped away and dawn teased across the horizon, Elizabeth retired to the room she had occupied the night before and after disrobing, fell gratefully in to bed.

A few awkward days passed at Blithebury. Elizabeth and Darcy hardly spoke to one another, and Georgiana, feeling caught in the middle, said little. Mrs. Bennet carried on constantly, much to the embarrassment of Elizabeth and Jane. Every time Mrs. Bennet graced them with her complaints of her nerves and the young men's' lack of interest in Kitty, Elizabeth wanted to cringe, remembering Darcy's words. Caroline constantly tried to attract Darcy's attention, but to Elizabeth's secret delight, he was unresponsive. Therefore Caroline spent much time with her sister, Mrs. Hurst, wondering as loud as she could why it was that Darcy was so quiet and why Elizabeth was hardly her usual spunky self. Jane tried to redirect the conversation, but Caroline politely refused to be diverted.

At the end of the week Darcy and Elizabeth decided to end their stay as it only made the others' time with one another uncomfortable. Charles and Jane protested but Darcy and Elizabeth stood firm.

Elizabeth embraced her father goodbye. She could see sadness within the lines of his wrinkled face. Now that she really looked at him, he looked so much older than the father she remembered. Older and lonelier.

“Are you happy, Lizzie?” his faded eyes looked deep into hers and she strained to prevent hers from looking away.

“It shall pass, father. We have a few things to sort out, but that is a part of marriage, is it not?”

Mr. Bennet nodded though he did not look as happy as Elizabeth fervently wished he would. She could feel her own heart sinking through her chest and loneliness filled her as she studied his face. Impulsively she flung her arms around him as tears crept into the corners of her eyes. “This summer, when Jane has her baby, she, Kitty, and I shall come to Longbourn to keep you company.”

“I shall like that,” her father said softly. Elizabeth stood back and nodded as she tried to smile at her father. She bade the rest of her family goodbye and Lon, the Darcys' coachman, helped her into the coach. She settled next to Kitty and turned as the coach pulled away. She waved forlornly to her father until he faded to but a spot before an ever shrinking Blithebury.

The ride home was silent but for Kitty's endless chatter. For once, Elizabeth was thankful for it because it kept the tense silence away.

That evening, at Pemberley once more, Elizabeth went to her bedroom and readied for bed, preparing to leave as soon as Darcy entered the room. She waited for two hours and still he did not appear. Setting her jaw, she went to the door and locked it. He would not come in if the door was locked. Elizabeth extinguished the lighting in the room and drew the screen in front of the dying fire. She climbed into the bed and drew the covers up to her chin and closed her eyes, forcing her body to relax.

Elizabeth felt as if she were falling into the darkness of a cavernous cave as she lay in bed, unable to sleep. When she finally did drift off to sleep, it was restless, and she awoke a short time later, the absence of warmth beside her drawing her from sleep. A feeling of nakedness descended upon her and she drew the covers closer about her. The dark, gaping hole of Darcy's absence rose above her, its head arched to strike as it threatened to swallow her. Elizabeth sniffed in the darkness and quickly scrubbed the tears from her face, chiding herself for crying. She tried to hold the sobs in but they pressed themselves from her chest, making her gasp as she clutched the pillow, her lips trembling as tears pooled down her cheek and soaked the soft fabric upon which her head rested.

She pressed her face into the pillow as warm tears flowed down her cheeks until the bittersweet release of sleep swept over her and she descended into a restless slumber.

Elizabeth had never realized how large Pemberley was, even when Darcy was away. Now it spread around her, its lonely halls seeming to span about her interminably. Her hands remained cold from the lack of contact that they had with his warm one, her arms tingled from the absence of his caresses, and her mind lamented the loss of the sound of his wife.

She tried to push the feelings from her; she never felt them when he was away. Her lack of a comfortable night of sleep left her with an irritable mood and a splitting headache. Elizabeth sat in a chair in a parlor after breakfast, attempting in vain to concentrate on a page of her book. Her mind constantly wandered to Darcy and what he was occupying himself with. She gritted her teeth in frustration. It had been like this since she'd returned home; her mind would not concentrate on the task before her, but wandered constantly to Darcy's whereabouts. She was about to fling the book from her in annoyance when she noticed Kitty before her, dressed in a warm cloak with her skates thrown in determined carelessness over her shoulder.

“Would you like to go ice skating?” she asked.

“Ask Georgiana,” replied Elizabeth without looking up. “I am busy.”

“You are no fun,” whined Kitty, her lips pouting.

Her older sister looked up, her brow creasing in irritation. “Your pouting shall not work on me,” she said shortly. “You have been spoiled enough.”

“Spoiled!” squealed Kitty. “Lydia gets to go to Brighton with the officers, Mary gets to stay home, Georgiana—,”

“Kitty,” sighed Elizabeth in exasperation. Kitty's pitch only aggravated the dull pounding in her head.

“It's not fair! I never get to have fun,” Kitty whined, her voice rising an octave.

“You've been to two balls in the past two weeks,” said Elizabeth incredulously.

“And you watched me the entire time like a hawk watches a mouse,” retorted Kitty. “You never watch Georgiana like you watch me! And you never tell her no or you're too busy.”

“Georgiana does not bother me when I am busy,” Elizabeth shot back, placing a hand to her forehead. Her stomach began to churn unpleasantly.

“It's because you love her more than you love me!” cried Kitty.

Elizabeth's mouth fell open. “That is nonsense, Kitty! You are my sister!”

“I've seen you with her. You always look so happy, like she is the perfect sister, the sister you always wanted,” sobbed Kitty, letting her skates fall to the floor with a clatter, making Elizabeth wince as her cheeks reddened with shame.

She had thought that Georgiana was the sister she always wanted, besides Jane. But she hadn't really meant it. Kitty was her sister and Kitty had her merits, though it was sometimes difficult to name them immediately.

“Kitty, I will not speak to you while you speak of such nonsense,” Elizabeth said sharply. “Why don't you go to your room and we'll discuss this when you are feeling rational.”

“See, you just want to get rid of me! Since that's what you want Lizzie, I'm leaving. Living with Jane was more fun anyway,” shouted Kitty and she turned and fled before Elizabeth could reach her.

Elizabeth winced and sank into a chair and buried her face in her hands. She sat for a few moments, trying to soothe her headache. Her stomach lurched as she tried to stand again, determined to go after Kitty.

A hand pushed her gently back onto the sofa. “You'd better stay seated,” insisted Darcy.

Elizabeth tried to smile as her stomach lurched unpleasantly once more and her headache pounded in her temples. The room suddenly seemed very warm.

A rush of nausea swept over her and Darcy took one look at her face before he grabbed a decorative vase. He held it to Elizabeth's lips just as the contents of her breakfast rose and she vomited into the vase and burst into tears.

He set the vase aside, calling for Mrs. Reynolds as he wiped Elizabeth's mouth with a handkerchief and picked her up.

Mrs. Reynolds came running and Darcy instructed her to call for a doctor and empty the vase. She set to work immediately as Darcy carried Elizabeth up the stairs and laid her down on the bed. He helped his still sobbing wife into her nightgown. Meredith arrived with cloths soaking in cold water. He sent the maid away and wrung out on of the cloths, placing it gently on Elizabeth's forehead as she closed her eyes.

Her sobbing quieted and she felt the coolness of the cloth penetrate the heat of her face.

Elizabeth opened her eyes to see Darcy and the doctor standing over her, speaking in hushed words. Darcy nodded and escorted the doctor from the room. A few moments he returned and noticing that Elizabeth was awake again, he smiled gently.

“The doctor says you should be back on your feet come tomorrow,” he reported softly.

Elizabeth reached for his hand and he took it. His dark eyes were sober as he looked at their clasped hands and sat upon the bed beside her.

“Elizabeth, I owe you an apology. You were trying to speak to me about an important issue and I refused to listen. Not only did I refuse to listen, but I insulted your family inexcusably. Please,” he said, his eyes searching hers and pleading with her, “these last two weeks without you have been unbearable. I could not sleep, I was never hungry, and everything I did seemed so trivial. Please, please forgive me.”

Elizabeth smiled weakly. “As Jane said, I believe we each spoke a little too truthfully for the other's liking. But I have not been able to sleep over the past two weeks without you at my side and I am exhausted. We may discuss this matter later.” With her free hand she motioned for Darcy to lay down beside her.

He did so and tentatively, he reached out and gently wrapped his arms around her. Elizabeth felt his warmth and comfort surround her and for the first time over the past two weeks, she felt herself relax and release herself into the security of his embrace. As tender slumber crept over her, she felt her concerns drift to the back of her mind. Having her husband beside her once more was all that mattered for now.

Shadows stretched across the floor as the fading light of sunset peaked through the open drapes. Elizabeth found that her headache had disappeared as well as her nausea. For a few moments she lay in the warmth of Darcy's arms before she propped herself up on one elbow, watching his slumbering face in the dim light.

There were dark circles etched around his eyes and his visage held the slackened quality of one lost completely to exhaustion. Her eyes lovingly took in the way his lips curved gracefully into a small smile and the corner of his mouth twitched every so often. His steady breathing was only interrupted as he swallowed occasionally, making the ends of his lips jump.

Sometime during the time that Elizabeth was admiring her husband's face, she fell off to sleep again, her palm rested gently upon his cheek.

When Elizabeth awoke again, the soothing smell of soup wafted to her, reminding her that her stomach was empty. She sat up and saw Darcy seated in a chair before the fire, his figure silhouetted against the wall. She climbed from the bed and crossed to his side, barefoot. He looked up at her and smiled.

“I pestered the cook into making us supper this late. I knew you would be hungry after this morning.” He gestured to a tray on which two bowls rested, one empty and the other filled with chicken broth. “I apologize for not waiting to dine with you,” he said, almost shyly.

Elizabeth smiled back and took a seat in the chair opposite him. Darcy rose and pushed the table over to her. He went to the fireside and picked up the blanket that lay before it and brought it back to Elizabeth, settling it over her lap and legs.

“We've not discussed our argument,” she said, not looking at him.

“I know,” replied Darcy quietly, “but it is more important that you eat now. The doctor said you have not been eating properly nor getting enough rest.”

Elizabeth wanted to retort, but instead she nodded and took a sip of her soup, savoring its warmth and taste as it slid down her throat. She waited a few moments to see if her stomach would accept the food. When no protest came, she took another sip.

Darcy watched quietly as she finished her supper. When the last bit of soup had been spooned from the bowl and swallowed, he returned the table to its place and remained standing, his face filled with apprehension.

Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose we both have apologies to make, though you have already given yours.” She held up a hand as Darcy's lips parted to protest. “Georgiana has become a wonderful and well rounded young woman, and I believe the majority of the credit lies with you. It was wrong of me to push you the way I did, though I still stand firmly behind my feelings regarding Georgiana's privileges at balls and young men. You were given the responsibility of looking after her and you were doing what you thought was right.”

Darcy shook his head. “Do you not understand, Elizabeth? I was doing what I thought was right. You were right when you said I did not understand the complexities of being a female adolescent.” He crossed to her and took her hands. “I should have at least listened to what you had to say instead of closing myself off because I did not agree or like what you were saying. For that I apologize.”

Elizabeth rested her palm against his cheek. “It was our pride and prejudice that kept us apart. Neither of us believed we would ever care for the other until we realized that the last person we wanted to be with was the only person we could not survive without. But before we could come to that realization, we had to look beyond our pride and our prejudices. It continues to be so in marriage, Darcy. We must look beyond what we have done in the past and realize that ultimately, it is only our love that truly matters. That is the only way we can ever overcome the obstacles that are thrown up before us.”

“If I only possessed half of your wisdom—,”

Elizabeth laid a finger to his lips, silencing him. Their eyes met before she whispered, “It is time to move on.”

Darcy nodded and stood. He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and returned to his prior seat.

“When shall you be leaving to be with Jane?” he asked.

“I believe the last week of this month or the first week of February. Georgiana may come with me if she chooses,” Elizabeth offered.

Darcy shook his head. “I believe Jane truly wants only you. Kitty may stay here as well.”

Elizabeth's lips quirked. “You are truly brave. Are you sure you shall be able to bear my sister on your own?”

Darcy chuckled. “There are many things I would suffer through for your older sister. I believe Kitty may be among the least of them.”

Elizabeth smirked. “You may find that otherwise very rapidly,” she said knowingly. For a moment she thought she saw a look of apprehension cross Darcy's face, but it disappeared before she could be sure and was replaced by a broad grin.

The next morning, Elizabeth remembered that she had one more hurt to sooth. She went to Kitty's room and knocked, announcing herself.

Kitty opened the door and stood back as Elizabeth entered.

“I have not yet asked you how you like your room,” she said.

Kitty glanced about the room. “The bed is warm and comfortable, the room well decorated, I could not be more satisfied.”

Elizabeth felt her jaw drop. Was that Kitty speaking? Kitty who had chattered on breathlessly over each of the Pemberley rooms upon her arrival? Kitty who loved describing her adoration for rooms by depicting each piece?

“I came to apologize for being so rude to you yesterday. There is no excuse.”

Kitty fiddled nervously with a loose thread on her sleeve. “I'm sorry I made you sick,” she said before she burst into tears, throwing her arms around a very startled Elizabeth and sobbing into her shoulder.

“What is it, dear?” asked Elizabeth, stroking Kitty's loose hair, noticing for the first time that it looked quite similar to her own.

“I am tired of being so selfish and childish! I want the young men to look at me like they look at Georgiana, like a woman, not an adolescent girl. I don't want to be an old maid!” wailed Kitty.

Elizabeth frowned. This was Jane's forte. Too often Elizabeth said the wrong thing or only made the matter worse. “You're too pretty to be an old maid,” she said finally, feeling that was the safest thing to say.

“But that still means I'm childish and selfish!”

“Well then, that's just something you shall have to work on. The first step is realizing that you are not the only person in the world and that you may not get all that you want. There are many things that I want that I cannot have, but I do not throw a tantrum until I get what I want.”

Kitty sniffed. “I want to be like you and Jane.”

Elizabeth smiled. “But then you wouldn't be Kitty.”

“But there is no Kitty. Only a girl who wants everything her way, a girl who flirts atrociously with every young man, a girl who only knows how to embroider to impress a gentleman…”

“That is nonsense,” insisted Elizabeth. “You're Kitty who loves to have fun and Kitty who dances wonderfully.” She wiped away her sister's tears.

“But it's so hard to change,” said Kitty.

“Yes, Kitty, of course change is hard. But if you are changing for the better, the change is well worth it. I see you did not decide to run away after all.”

“I actually did, I was packing my trunk when Georgiana came and asked what I was doing. She said you would be terribly upset if I left. When I disagreed she told me about everything you did to prepare for my arrival—how you strove to decorate my room as you thought I would like it.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Yes, Georgiana is very good at drawing things into perspective. Kitty, I only want what is best for you and while I know you will find living with us difficult, I believe you will be happy with the results it produces.”

Kitty sighed. “May we go ice skating?”

“Why of course.”

Three weeks later Elizabeth knelt before her trunk and set her journal on top of the neatly folded clothing that filled it. She closed the lid and secured it shut. She would be leaving the next morning to be with Jane until her baby was born. Though she would only be away for three months, it seemed to be a lifetime without Darcy.

She heard their chamber door open and the sound of the footsteps told her it was Darcy. He came to her side and knelt by her, taking her hand. For moments, they sat quietly together, gazing into the fire that popped before them. Finally Elizabeth crawled into his lap and wrapped her arms about his neck, as she rested her head against his chest.

Absently Darcy stroked her hair. She closed her eyes and internalized the soft rhythm of his heart beat against her ear. How could it be that this was the same man she had told Jane she could never and would never marry? He wasn't the same man, though; he had changed, for her. Elizabeth wanted to cling to him and not depart from him the next morning as she knew she must.

Eventually Elizabeth drifted to sleep to the mesmerizing pulse of his heart.

The next morning, Elizabeth embraced Kitty.

“Behave,” she instructed her sister. “I do not want any ill reports.”

Kitty wrinkled her nose. “Lizzie, I am not a child. I do not need the parting warning.”

Elizabeth grinned back before she hugged Georgiana and then bade both girls farewell before they went off to get their ice skates, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth alone to exchange private good-byes.

“Look after yourself,” said Darcy.

“I will, Jane will be sure.”

He chuckled and pulled her to him, giving her a gentle good bye kiss. “Come, Lon is waiting,” he said breathlessly when they parted.

Darcy helped her into the coach and was joined by the girls, dressed in their winter cloaks. All three waved to Elizabeth as the coach started from the driveway. Smiling, she waved to them, even after Pemberley fell far behind her.

Lon helped her from the coach when they arrived at Blithebury. Charles greeted her warmly at the foot of the steps and instructed several of the servants to take her trunk to her room.

“Caroline is out for the day,” he said when they had entered the foyer and Elizabeth had given her cloak to one of the servants. “And Jane is asleep, so I believe I am your entire welcoming party. You must be quite hungry after your journey.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Indeed.” Charles led her to the dining chamber where they had a delightful conversation over supper. Afterward Elizabeth took a tray up to Jane's room.

She found Jane sitting up in the bed. Upon seeing her sister, Jane smiled broadly.

“I am sorry I was not able to greet you,” said Jane, holding out her arms to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth set the tray down and ran to her sister, wrapping her arms about her. “It does not matter, Jane. I am so happy to see you!”

“And I you,” murmured Jane, holding her sister tightly.

“Darcy, Kitty, and Georgiana send their regards.”

“How is Kitty?”

Elizabeth sighed. “She is changing, though slowly.” She related what had happened three weeks before. When she finished, Jane smiled.

“It is a wonderful improvement.”

Elizabeth lay back on the bed. “I do not know how many more `wonderful improvements' I can bear.”

Jane laughed. “I believe Georgiana has had an influence on our sister though and that is the best we could hope for.”

“Yes but you were always so much more patient than I.”

“Therefore I believe you and Kitty shall both grow from this experience.”

Elizabeth snorted in a most unladylike manner before she rose and brought Jane her supper.

Elizabeth spent most of her time at Blithebury with Jane who had been restricted to her bedchamber by the doctor. In the mornings they would dine together and spend most of the morning talking before Jane took a nap. When Jane awoke, they would have dinner before going for a walk around the house. Upon their return they would spend more time together before Elizabeth joined Caroline and Bingley for supper.

A week after her arrival, Elizabeth was sitting on the settee in Jane's room, discussing a recent book they had read when Ellen, a servant girl, appeared in the doorway of the bedchamber.

“Yes, Ellen?” asked Jane.

The girl bobbed a curtsy. “A letter for Mrs. Darcy, madam.” She crossed the room and handed it to Elizabeth before exiting once more.

Elizabeth glanced at the handwriting but a moment before she knew the letter was from Darcy. For a moment her eyes met Jane's and then her sister smiled and nodded. Eagerly Elizabeth tore the envelope opened and withdrew the precious pages infolded within. Darcy's neat, precise handwriting stretched across two back to back pages of paper. She read the letter through twice before she looked up at Jane, her eyes dancing.

“I do not believe four pages worth of writing could have occurred in but a week,” teased Jane, beaming at the happiness that glowed from her sister's face.

Elizabeth blushed, making Jane laugh.

“It's only the usual,” muttered Elizabeth as she set the letter in her lap.

“No, it is from Darcy and that makes it all the more special.”

Elizabeth could not respond for how could she phrase her thoughts any more perfectly than Jane just had.

Immediately after supper, Elizabeth went to her room and penned a return letter to Darcy before she returned downstairs to join Caroline as Charles was with Jane.

Elizabeth took a seat in a chair and picked up her embroidery. As much as she hated embroidering, she was determined that Jane's baby should have a small pillow made by her aunt.

Caroline sat at the pianoforte, playing a recent piece. As her fingers moved gracefully over the keys she watched Elizabeth.

“Did Darcy ever show you the piece I embroidered for him?” she asked.

“Which would that be?” said Elizabeth politely.

“Oh, one I did when he was the only man I could think of marrying,” replied Caroline, laughing softly.

Elizabeth smiled. “Why yes, the one you did shortly after our engagement.”

Caroline's smile did not falter. “That is the one.”

“He showed it to me as we were packing away the things we wanted to put in the attic. If I recall, it is in the box with our other linen. It was a truly wonderful piece, I asked him if he wanted to display it, but he said no. I wonder why?” mused Elizabeth.

Caroline's lips pursed. “I do not know. Perhaps he wants to put it away for a special time.”

“Perhaps,” agreed Elizabeth. She could see that she had won as the other woman fell silent.

When Charles joined them, Caroline smiled at her brother. “You look exceptionally handsome this evening, brother. As I am busy learning this new piece, perhaps Elizabeth would be delighted to sketch your portrait for dear Jane?” she said sweetly.

Before Charles could say anything, Elizabeth looked up, her eyes meeting Caroline's cold ones. “Unfortunately, I do not know how to draw,” she said quietly.

Caroline smirked triumphantly, her face appearing oddly beautiful. “Oh dear, what a shame! I suppose it was a silly idea anyway!” She tossed her head expertly and gave Elizabeth a meaningful look before she glanced demurely down at her fingers as they jumped expertly over the keys.

Inside Elizabeth roiled with anger, but her exterior remained relaxed and pleasant. She turned to her sister's husband, who wore a most perplexed look upon his gentle features, and smiled.

“Charles, Darcy asked me to give you his regards in his letter today.”

Charles laughed. “But a week and already he has written you! I suppose he wrote it but a few moments after your departure.”

Elizabeth chuckled. “You've seen how he writes Georgiana.”

“Indeed,” he agreed. “Lizzie, Jane has asked for you upstairs.”

“Oh! Did she need or desire anything?”

Charles smiled. “Just your company.”

She returned his smile and set her embroidery on the table beside her before she hurried off to see Jane.

“Good evening,” said Elizabeth as she entered Jane's now familiar chamber.

Jane smiled. “Have I drawn you away from the entertainment, Lizzie?”

Elizabeth smiled and went to her side. “No, we were just enjoying a cold evening,” she replied. Jane slightly raised an eyebrow as if she sensed a double meaning in Elizabeth's use of `cold', but she made no comment.

Elizabeth crossed to the bed and sat beside Jane, tracing the embroidery on the deep, blue coverlet.

Jane sighed heavily. “How I detest lying in! I feel so useless!”

Her sister grinned. “You are far from useless—you are an excellent source of conversation.”

Jane took Elizabeth's hand. “I know how you miss Darcy and I thank you for coming to be with me.”

Elizabeth gently tucked a loose strand of Jane's hair behind her ear. “You are my sister. How could I be parted from you at a time such as this?”

Jane smiled and closed her eyes. “Do you recall when we agreed that we would never marry so that we would never be parted?”

Elizabeth sighed. “That seems so long ago, but yes, I do.”

“Lizzie, I would not give up what I now have for anything.”

Elizabeth studied Jane's peaceful expression and noticed the beauty and brightness that her expectation brought out in her face. “Nor would I,” she agreed, squeezing her sister's hand.

Two weeks passed and Elizabeth found Darcy's absence pronounced, though not as overpowering as it had been the month before after their row. Occasionally, when she was on her own in her room she would stare out the window, wondering what he was doing at that moment and whether he was thinking of her as she thought of him. When these thoughts occurred she would sigh and go to Jane's side to keep her sister company, not wanting to get drawn into her wandering, lonely thoughts. Sometimes, though, Jane's companionship was lacking as her emotions seemed to swing unpredictably. One moment her sister would be laughing in the next she would sigh in exasperation and stare moodily out her bedroom window. Elizabeth had never seen her sister so prey to her emotions before, but the doctor assured her it was only a passing occurrence. Elizabeth prayed that he was right for she was not entirely sure she enjoyed being around the new Jane all the time.

“I am not hungry,” declared Jane, her eyebrows knitting together as she crossed her arms over her swollen middle. She reminded Elizabeth of little Nat, refusing to eat the vegetables on his plate.

“I know,” sighed Elizabeth, “but the doctor says you must eat.”

Jane turned her head. “The baby is kicking too much. I am not hungry.”

“Just a morsel,” urged Elizabeth.

“I am not a child Lizzie.”

“You sound like Kitty.”

“And you sound like a nagging mother.”

“If this is what carrying a child does to your temper I am not quite sure I am prepared for it,” said Elizabeth.

She was surprised to hear Jane laugh. “I'm sorry to be so difficult, dear.”

Elizabeth smiled. “You have spent the majority of your life in sweet innocence. I suppose your other feelings had to make an appearance sometime.”

Jane smiled back and took a voluntary sip of the soup before her, just as a knock came at the door.

It was Ellen and Elizabeth immediately saw that she held a letter. As soon as the girl had left Elizabeth tore open the envelope and quickly read through the letter. Her sister watched as her eyebrows creased and she read the letter through again, and then a third time.

“What is it?” asked Jane.

“I don't know,” replied Elizabeth, turning to her sister.

“What did Darcy say, Lizzie?”

“That's just it. It's what he does not say.”

Jane arched an eyebrow and Elizabeth held up a single sheet of paper with scrawled writing on but one side. “When has Darcy ever written a letter fewer than four pages and omitted his sister's greetings?” asked Elizabeth, puzzled.

“So what is wrong?” insisted Jane. Suddenly Elizabeth gasped and clutched the letter as her face went as white as the nightgown her sister wore.

“What is it?” demanded Jane urgently.

Elizabeth's lips trembled. “I don't know. But something's happened to Georgiana.”

“Lizzie, calm down,” urged Jane as Elizabeth paced the floor, rereading Darcy's letter for the twelfth time. “Perhaps he was in a hurry or occupied with business. Or perhaps he thought Georgiana was sending a letter as well. You're simply jumping to conclusions.”

Elizabeth stopped pacing; her lips so taught that they were but a thin line on her chin. “I know my husband,” she snapped. “Something is wrong!”

Jane looked taken aback and faltered for a moment before she said quietly, “But if something were wrong he would have told you. You have no cause to worry.”

When Elizabeth did not respond, Jane frowned. “You have been shut up in this house with me for so long, you are simply on edge. I will have Charles and Caroline escort you to town. A day out will do you well.”

Elizabeth wanted to retort that spending a day with Caroline would perhaps have a contrary effect to her well being, but she held her tongue. Perhaps Jane was right; she was making a mountain out of a mole hill. She collapsed onto the bed next to her sister and calmed slightly as Jane wrapped her arms about her.

“You've missed Darcy,” Jane murmured comfortingly. “That is all. It was unfair of me to ask you to remain with me so long.”

“No, I would have done so anyway,” replied Elizabeth. “And I am fully capable of functioning without the presence of my husband. Of course I miss him and wish I were with him, or he were here with me, but that is no reason why I should lay about all day and pine for him like some women do. I always—,”

“Lizzie, you are still worrying for you're beginning to babble,” Jane said lightly. “Here, I shall suggest that Charles take you to town.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “I do not want to go to town.”

“Very well,” said Jane brightly, “I shall come down stairs and we'll find some source of amusement.”

Though Elizabeth protested, Jane could be quite firm once her mind had been made. Elizabeth helped her sister from the bed and then helped her dress before they went downstairs.

“Jane, how wonderful to see you about!” exclaimed Caroline, looking up from the book she was reading as they entered the parlor.

Jane smiled. “It is wonderful to be up. I was becoming rather wearied of my bedroom, despite Lizzie's excellent company.” She took a seat on the sofa and settled herself as Charles took a seat beside her. “Come, Lizzie,” insisted Jane. “Please play a piece for us.”

Elizabeth frowned, wanting desperately to escape to a place where she could ponder the letter Darcy had sent. With no way out as the three other occupants of the room regarded her expectantly, she went to the pianoforte. She set her fingers to the keys and began to play a familiar tune. As she continued to play she felt the tenseness lifted from her and her mind settle. The music was calming as it drifted through the room, with the murmur of the others' voices accompanying it. Jane was right, if something were wrong, Darcy would have told her. He had probably been in a hurry and it had only been two weeks since he had last written her.

By the time Elizabeth finished playing, she was in a much brighter mood; she even joined the others for several rounds of cards. Afterward she curled up on a sofa next to the fire and studied her French while Caroline embroidered and Jane knit little socks for the baby. Jane and Caroline discussed a drawing that Caroline was doing, a book that they had read, and the latest fashions.

Supper was wonderful with Jane seated at the table, looking bright and delighted at being temporarily released from her isolation. Elizabeth noticed that her sister ate more than she had been eating in a while. But by the end of supper, Elizabeth could see that Jane was tiring. After one last round of cards, Jane retired for the evening and was soon followed by the others.

Elizabeth sat before the vanity mirror in her dimmed room. She let down her dark hair and shook it out before she picked up her brush and began to brush the ends out. She hummed softly to herself as she reviewed the conjugations of irregular French verbs. When Elizabeth came to recevoir, she could not remember all the conjugations. With a sigh, she set down her brush and went to check her book. Finding the verb, she glanced over the conjugations and sighed. She returned to the vanity and finished brushing out her hair before she deftly braided it.

The bed had been warmed and though a chill entered the room, she was warm beneath the down coverlet. Elizabeth drifted off to sleep after lying awake for a short while.

She awoke to the sound of raised voices. For a moment she was disorientated in the dark of her room. In a moment of confusion she thought she heard Kitty's voice. Elizabeth sat up and felt around in the dark for a candle and lit it, lighting the room just as the door burst open and a sobbing Kitty rushed in, followed closely by Ellen, a young servant boy, a half dressed Charles, and a scowling Caroline.

Elizabeth's jaw fell open as Kitty ran to her and flung her arms about her.

“What is the meaning of this?” demanded Caroline as Jane appeared in the doorway, looking pale and just as mystified as Elizabeth. She hurried over to the bed as fast as she could as Charles blushed at the sight of a nightgowned Elizabeth and retreated from the room.

“What is it, Kitty?” cried Elizabeth as she knelt and wrapped her arms about her incomprehensible sister. What was Darcy doing allowing the girl to come to Blithebury on her own? Why was Kitty here anyway?

It was a few moments before Elizabeth could understand anything that Kitty gasped out between sobs.

“It happened so fast, I couldn't help it,” she gasped. “She was gone!”

“Who was gone?” demanded Jane.

“Georgiana,” whimpered Kitty.

“Gone where?” asked Elizabeth urgently.

“Be-be-beneath the ice,” wailed Kitty, gulping.

Elizabeth's heart sped up and it suddenly became difficult for her to breathe as she stared wide eyed at her younger sister.

“What happened?” she said, shaking the sobbing girl.

Haltingly, Kitty explained how she and Georgiana had been ice skating when the other girl fell through the ice. “Lizzie, she's dying and it's all my fault! I have not seen Darcy since they brought Georgiana in and I became so scared. He came out long enough to forbade me from telling you, he said you would leave Jane, and then he went back to her side, he hasn't left it.”

Elizabeth scowled as she leapt from the bed. She remembered Caroline was standing in the doorway.

“Go ready a horse for me,” she ordered the woman. Caroline looked as if she were about to protest but she held her tongue and disappeared.

“What are you doing?” cried Jane as Elizabeth threw off her nightgown and began drawing on warm clothing.

“I'm needed at Pemberley,” replied Elizabeth, harshly. She should have listened to her instincts. Something had been wrong and she had done nothing to discover more information.

“You should take the coach. You can't ride,” said Jane as she stroked a weeping Kitty's hair.

“I can ride well enough now to get to Pemberley,” said Elizabeth, thankful that Darcy had insisted that she learn to ride the year before. “A coach will take too long.”

“Then Charles shall go with you,” said Jane.

Elizabeth drew on her shoes. “You need him here.”

Jane shook her head. “You will not ride thirty miles across the country on your own,” she said firmly. “Charles!” she called.

In moments he appeared at the door, fully dressed. “Yes?”

“Lizzie is riding to Pemberley as soon as she is ready,” explained Jane. Charles nodded and left, understanding what she wanted him to do.

“Kitty,” instructed Elizabeth, “you are to stay here with Jane until further plans are established.” She draped her cloak over her arm and went to her younger sister's side.

“You've been very brave, Kitty,” she murmured and kissed her on the forehead before she ran from the room, followed by a much slower Jane.

Charles stood in the foyer, speaking quickly with Caroline.

“They need me,” said Caroline angrily.

Charles shook his head. “Jane needs you. I will not leave her alone.”

“That's what servants are for,” hissed his sister.

“No,” said Charles. For the first time, Elizabeth saw irritation written in his usually good natured face. Caroline frowned but said no more as Elizabeth descended the stairs, drawing on her cloak.

“The horses are outside,” said Charles.

Elizabeth ran halfway back up the stairs and embraced Jane.

“I shan't be gone long,” she murmured.

Jane kissed her cheek. “I shall be fine. Darcy needs you more than I.”

Elizabeth hugged her sister once more and hurried back down the stairs, following Charles out the door.

He helped her onto the horse and then swung into his own saddle. The waning moon illuminated them as they galloped down the driveway and were quickly swallowed up into the night.

Despite the numerous layers that Elizabeth had donned, the cold bit at her as she and Charles urged their horses through the night. It was not long before her rear began to hurt from being in the saddle for so long. But thoughts of Georgiana lying at Pemberley dying provided a temporary salve. As the early hours of morning came, Charles and Elizabeth arrived in Derbyshire. Elizabeth's nose stung from the cold wind that surrounded her through the entire journey and by the time they rode up before Pemberly, she was practically falling from the horse, unable to sit in the saddle any longer.

She half fell, half slid from the horse and as fast as her sore legs could carry her, she went to the door, knocking urgently.

After what seemed to be hours, Rensler opened the door and his eyes widened in shock. “Mrs. Darcy,” he exclaimed as she pushed past him.

“Have someone see to the horses and Mr. Bingley,” she instructed as she ran up the steps. Upon reaching the top, a sudden thought halted her in her tracks. Suppose Georgiana had died before she arrived? Kitty had said that the girl had had a cold before she had fallen in. Struggling to push the thought from her mind, Elizabeth hurried to Georgiana's room.

She pushed the door open slightly and her breath caught in her throat. Darcy sat beside Georgiana's bed, his shoulders hunched over. The girl lay on the bed; her deathly pale face contrasting sharply against her fever reddened cheeks. Georgiana's breath came in ragged gasps and there was a moment when her chest stopped heaving and then she fought for another breath of air. Her usually lively curls clung to her face, wilted and damp. Darcy held tightly to her limp hand.

Quietly, Elizabeth stepped into the room, her cold body tingling as it was met with warmth of the room. She shed her cloak in the doorway and hurried to Darcy's side, kneeling beside him. He turned to her and she hardly recognized her husband. His chocolate eyes were bloodshot, the gold flecks that usually lit them had faded, and he had a week's growth of stubble lined his usually smooth jaw. Creases had inserted themselves in his youthful face and in the dim light he appeared much older. His hair was mussed and his shirt was wrinkled and sweat stained as if he had not changed it in a week. He looked thinner, as if he had not eaten either.

“Elizabeth,” he rasped and buried his face in her shoulder. She wrapped her arms about him and held him as his shoulders shook.

When he had recomposed himself, Elizabeth attempted to coax him to bed, but he would not move from Georgiana's side. Finally, she rang the bell and had Rensler send up a few servants to move Georgiana's divan closer to the bed. She settled onto it and had blankets brought. Darcy leaned against her and she held him as they sat by Georgiana's side. Eventually he fell asleep against her, still holding his sister's hand.

Elizabeth watched as Georgiana struggled to breathe and the fever raged across her face. Mrs. Reynolds came and set cool cloths on the girl's forehead, attempting to bring the fever down. She then carefully trickled a bit of tea through Georgiana's parched lips before she left once more, leaving Darcy and Elizabeth alone. Darcy slept on and Elizabeth remembered Charles. Carefully she set a blanket beneath her husband's head and slipped quietly from the room.

She found Mrs. Reynolds tidying their vacant bedroom.

“Mrs. Reynolds, has Mr. Bingley been seen to?” she asked wearily as she drew off her clothes.

“Indeed,” replied the woman. “He is sleeping now.” She looked at Elizabeth and her face melted into tears. She collapsed into a chair, burying her face in her apron. “You have no idea how grateful I am that you are here at last! Darcy would not let me send word to you and your sister insisted on going to fetch you. It has not been good for Georgiana and I am afraid of what the master might do without you.”

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around the woman. “I am here and you have done your best. We shall have to see what happens next.” For a moment, as the older woman leaned into her, Elizabeth wished she had someone there to comfort her.

When Charles awoke, Elizabeth took breakfast with him. Afterward, they agreed that it would be best for Charles to return to Blithebury as he could be of little help at Pemberley and Jane needed him. Elizabeth saw him off and then returned to Georgiana's room to keep vigil by her side.

Darcy awoke in time to greet the doctor when he arrived to check on Georgiana. After he had examined the girl and murmured reassuring words to Darcy, he beckoned Elizabeth into the corridor, leaving Darcy to sit quietly by his sister's side.

Elizabeth shut the door behind her and one glance at the doctor's face told her all. “How grave is it?” she asked, a lump rising in her throat as she steeled herself for the worst.

Mr. Bertly shook his head sadly. “All I can say is that she has lived this long, a week. But each day she grows weaker. I've done all I can, but she had a cold even before she fell into the water. It does not look good. The fever is too high to sweat it out—not too much higher and she could be permanently affected.”

Elizabeth nodded, unable to speak for a few moments. The doctor politely looked away as she regained her composure. Finally she said, “I shall escort you to the door, Mr. Bertly.” She led him downstairs and had his cloak and hat brought to him. Rensler helped him into his cloak.

“I shall see you tomorrow then?” she asked as she followed Mr. Bertly from the house.

He nodded and started down the steps before he turned to her, his hat held in his hands.

“Mrs. Darcy,” he said gravely, yet kindly. “I have known the Darcy's for a long while, especially Fitzwilliam and Georgiana.” He swallowed. “Darcy is not going to take it easily,” he said and bowed to her. “Good day.” Mr. Bertly hurried down the stairs and into his coach.

Elizabeth gripped the rail, her knuckles turning white, as she reeled from his words. He was sure that Georgiana would not make it. She pressed her wrist to her mouth as a gasp forced itself from her chest. No, she thought desperately as a tear streaked down her cheek, no that could not happen! She returned inside the house and pressed the door quietly shut behind her before she collapsed to the floor of the foyer, muffling her sobs in the folds of her skirts.

When her tears had been spent, Elizabeth rose wearily from the floor. It felt as if she had suddenly lost twenty years of her life and could not remember where they had gone. She went to her bedroom and soaked her face in cold water. It would not do for Darcy to see her tears. He still had hope.

She found him still at his sister's side when she returned to Georgiana's room. She sat beside him on the divan and coaxed him into eating a little bit of the soup that had been sent up. Elizabeth then bathed his face with cool water and provided him with a new shirt. As he leaned against her, she tenderly combed out his tangled curls.

They remained by Georgiana's side for the rest of the day, Darcy occasionally recounting stories of Georgiana's childhood to Elizabeth, watching his sister fondly as he spoke. At other times the only sound that filled the room was Georgiana's desperate gasps for air. Each time the rise of the girl's chest paused, Elizabeth prayed it would rise again, that she would be able to draw in enough air to take one more breath.

Mrs. Reynolds and Elizabeth were able to eventually urge Darcy to bed, promising to wake him should anything change, for better or for worse.

As Elizabeth kept vigil by Georgiana's side alone, she watched as the girl struggled for air and felt as if she watched Jane dying, only able to sit helplessly by as sickness consumed her sister. A tear coursed down her cheek as she gently brushed Georgiana's hair from her face. The girl did not even twitch at Elizabeth's touch. Elizabeth closed her eyes and prayed with all her strength that Georgiana might live.

Suddenly she noticed that the girl's chest had not risen. “No,” she murmured, leaning over Georgiana. “No!” she cried. “God, please, no, please. God listen to me!” she sobbed as she wrapped her arms about Georgiana, as if to hold her to life by her very grasp.

In response, a small shudder escaped Georgiana.

“No,” cried Elizabeth. And then she felt it, slow and straining, but an intake of air nonetheless.

Elizabeth sat with Georgiana for many more hours, but not once again did the girl's breathing pause as long it had in that frightful moment. She gently bathed Georgiana's face in cool water and wet her cracked lips. When Georgiana burned with the fever, Elizabeth removed the blankets from her and when she shivered, Elizabeth drew them back on, tucking them closely about the girl.

Two days passed and Elizabeth hardly noticed as she cared for Georgiana and comforted Darcy. She watched through Georgiana's window as the sun set over the snow white hills, wondering if perhaps the sun were setting over the girl's last day, for Georgiana grew steadily weaker and it would not be much longer before she could no longer fight the fever. She returned to Georgiana's side and took her hand, praying once more.

Elizabeth looked up as someone bustled into the room. It was Mrs. Reynolds with a new bowl of cloths. The woman's face was drawn and dull, her usually severe bun hanging limply on her neck. She frowned upon seeing Elizabeth.

“You've not slept but three hours since you arrived three days ago,” she said.

Elizabeth smiled wanly. “And Darcy had not slept four days before I arrived. I suppose we're nearly even.”

As she stood to take the bowl from Mrs. Reynolds, the room spun before her and she gripped the divan to steady herself. For a moment she felt lightheaded and close to fainting before she forced herself to take a deep breath and steady herself.

“Even,” hissed Mrs. Reynolds quietly. “Darcy can barely sleep, you refuse to sleep, and Georgiana lies here…ill! I will not have the lot of you dying of sickness under this roof.”

“I simply stood too quickly,” insisted Elizabeth.

The housekeeper scowled. “Too quickly! I was not born yesterday, Mrs. Darcy! Now you are to go to bed immediately. I am perfectly capable of caring for Miss Darcy.”

Elizabeth started to protest, but upon seeing the stern expression of the woman before her, she could not dredge up enough energy to argue. She left the room as Mrs. Reynolds bustled about, straightening Georgina's pillows and covers.

She found Darcy in their bedroom slumped in a chair, a glass of brandy in his hand. He shot up upon seeing her, his tired mind unable to express the fear and anguish that lined his face. Elizabeth shook her head.

“It is no different,” she said wearily.

Darcy closed his eyes and breathed out, relaxing slightly. For the moment, no change was good news.

“I cannot sleep,” he said. “I've been awake since you sent me here hours ago.”

Elizabeth took the glass of brandy from him and walked over to set it on a side table. “We must rest,” she said reluctantly. “It would not do for Georgiana to awake only to find us ill.”

Darcy came to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her loose hair. She held him, her cheek pressed against his chest.

“Elizabeth I don't know what I'll do if—,”

Elizabeth pulled away to look up at him. “Shhh. We shall pray for the best.”

“Lizzie,” he whispered, his dark eyes focused on her, conveying his intense need for her.

She pulled him back to her, saying nothing. Mere words could not express what their eyes had already told one another. Darcy stroked her hair as she leaned against him and within moments she had fallen asleep, standing up.

Elizabeth awoke a few hours later in her bed, feeling more exhausted than she had before she had slept. Darcy was not in the room and so she rose and went to Georgiana's room. He sat beside his sister as she moaned. Elizabeth went to his side and sat beside him, taking his free hand. They watched as Georgiana's breathing became even more labored and great coughs racked her frail body. She moaned with the fever and began to toss, crying for her mother.

They sent for Dr. Bertly immediately and watched fearfully as Georgiana grew steadily worse. Elizabeth found herself holding her breath frequently as she prayed fervently that Georgiana survive.

The doctor arrived and this time, even Darcy could not miss the look of sorrow that lined the doctor's face when he left hours later.

Darcy stood over Georgiana, a scowl lining his face. His shoulders slumped forward and despite the fierceness of his expression, he looked defeated. His anger, frustration, and confusion filled the room, pressing on Elizabeth, making her breathless beneath its pressure. For perhaps the fourth time in his life, Darcy was not in control. The first had been when his father had told him that his mother was gone, the second when his father had died, and the third when he had somehow fallen in love with beautiful, stubborn, and confident Elizabeth. Now Elizabeth saw that he was trying desperately to find a way to regain control, but in vain.

She went to his side. “She is not gone yet,” she murmured, not knowing what else to say.

Slowly he reached out and brushed a lock of Georgiana's hair from her face. “I—I want to be alone with my sister,” he said roughly, not looking at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth nodded and backed quietly from the room, feeling slightly hurt but understanding his need to be alone. She returned to their room and lay on the bed for what seemed hours until she sank into an exhausted slumber.

“Lizzie! Lizzie! Wake up!” Darcy's urgent voice pervaded the darkness of her slumber as he violently shook her awake. For a moment she was going to protest that she detested being shaken awake and then Georgiana floated into her hazy mind and she flew up.

“Georgiana!” she gasped, her heart pounding and her breath rushing to her throat and getting caught.

Darcy practically dragged her from the bed. “Lizzie! Her fever—it's broken!”

Before a further thought could enter Elizabeth's mind, he was racing down the corridor, half dragging her by the hand. Elizabeth brushed her hair from her face as her mind tried to take in what he was telling her. She'd never seen Darcy like this before, so expressive of his emotions.

He shoved open Georgiana's door and pulled Elizabeth to her side. Georgiana lay still in the bed, her arm resting over her middle. For a moment Elizabeth thought she had died and from Darcy's anguished expression, he did too, but then she stirred and her parched lips murmured softly. Elizabeth felt the girl's forehead; it was cool.

She backed away from Georgiana's side and sank into a chair, burying her face in her hands, shaking her head as she tried to internalize all that she had just seen. Suddenly she sobbed just as a burst of laughter jumped from her throat. She looked up at Darcy through the tears that clouded her eyes to see that he was in the same state as she as tears flowed down his cheeks and laughter burst almost involuntarily from him.

He grabbed her from the chair and lifted her from the floor, spinning her around as they laughed and cried together. Their excited exclamations and laughter mingled unintelligibly between the kisses Darcy placed on Elizabeth's cheeks as he kissed away her rapidly flowing tears. For a moment the rush of their tears and laughter collided with the dense foreboding of the room and then the strength of their joy and relief sliced through the foreboding, relieving the room of its weight.

Georgiana stirred. “Darcy?” she rasped.

Darcy let go of Elizabeth as they hurried to the girl's side. He took Georgiana's hand, unable to say a word.

Elizabeth took a seat on the bed beside Georgiana and smoothed her hair away from her face. Georgiana's gaze shifted to Elizabeth.

“Kitty? Lizzie? Jane—,”

“Shhh,” murmured Elizabeth. “You were unwell and Kitty went to stay with Jane. Do you wish to eat something, dear?”

Georgiana closed her eyes and turned her cheek to her pillow. “May I have just a small portion, please?”

“Of course, dear. I shall return shortly.” Elizabeth placed a gentle kiss on Georgiana's cheek and hurried from the room to inform Mrs. Reynolds of Georgiana's improvement, leaving Darcy alone with his sister.

In a few days' time, the color had returned to Georgiana. Her cheeks regained their soft pink blush and her blue gray eyes resumed their brightness. Darcy had to carry Georgiana to her dressing room where Elizabeth and Mrs. Reynolds helped her bathe and wash her hair as her room was aired and cleaned. When they had redressed Georgiana in a fresh nightgown, Darcy returned to carry Georgiana back to bed and place her under the crisp, clean bedding. It was not long before she drifted off to sleep again.

Elizabeth and Darcy spent the rest of the afternoon with Georgiana, dining with her in her chamber, and staying with her until she fell asleep for the night.

They watched her sleeping for a few moments before they rose and dimmed the lights. Elizabeth took Darcy's arm as they left Georgiana and proceeded to their evening parlor.

They settled down onto the sofa and watched as the fire crackled before them. Darcy wrapped his arm about Elizabeth and drew her too him. She rested her head against his shoulder, feeling the security and warmth of his embrace.

“Lizzie,” he murmured softly.

“Yes,” she replied.

He stroked her hair and placed a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “I have a confession to make.”

“What is it?” she asked, just as softly as he had spoken.

“I—I've written to my aunt,” he said.

Elizabeth smiled. “Did she reply?” she asked.

“Well—in a way, I suppose.”

She sat up and raised an eyebrow as she frowned in confusion.

“My aunt sent a reply that she is unable at the moment to forgive my actions and therefore we are not yet on speaking terms.”

Elizabeth looked down at her hands, attempting hold back the smirk that threatened to creep across her lips. Unfortunately she was not as adept as Darcy at concealing her emotions.

Darcy's fingers grasped her chin and lifted her face. Upon seeing the mirth in his eyes and the laughter concealed in their crinkled edges, she felt a giggle escape as a grin stretched across her lips. Darcy joined in her laughter, his rich laugh rolling out in harmony to hers.

“I'm sorry,” said Elizabeth when her laughter had left her with but a smile to reveal her amusement. “I had no right.”

Darcy chuckled. “When first I read her reply I was enraged, but then I thought of you and I knew you would only be able to laugh at her response. The more I regarded the letter, the more I was given to find it amusing.”

Elizabeth resettled her head on his shoulder and recalled a thought that had occurred to her in this very room a few months before. At that time she had believed herself bound to Darcy by unconditional love, but now as she reconsidered that thought, she realized that he was as bound to her as she was to him.

They lapsed into silence one more, enjoying the quiet of the room, the crackle and occasional pop of the fire, and the peace that had settled over Pemberley as Georgiana began to recover.

“I shall be returning soon to Jane,” Elizabeth said gently.

Darcy sighed and buried his face in her hair. “I know, Elizabeth love, but may we simply enjoy this moment with one another.”

She clasped his hand, their fingers webbing together. “Of course.”

In two days time, Elizabeth prepared to depart from Pemberley. As Darcy saw to the preparation of her coach, Elizabeth entered Georgiana's chamber. The girl was sitting primly propped up against starched white pillows. She smiled upon seeing Elizabeth enter.

“Have you come to say good-bye?” Georgiana spoke softly.

Elizabeth smiled as she crossed to her side. “Yes, dear.” She placed a gentle hand on Georgiana's shoulder. “I shall be sending Kitty back. I know her chatter can be irksome, but she will do her best to keep you company, though I believe you may not need her with Darcy around.”

Georgiana smiled. “'Tis always wonderful to have female companionship, though,” she said.

Elizabeth chuckled. “Are you sure Kitty shall not exhaust you?”

“Quite sure. And perhaps with her around, Darcy will not feel as if he must hover at my side all the time. I am not sure he will get enough rest if you leave.”

“I'll be sure to tell him to rest, lest he should worry you. Get well soon, dear. I missed your music.”

Georgiana smiled. “Good bye Lizzie. Please give my regards to Charles, Jane, and Caroline.”

“Of course, dear. Would you like me to do anything else before I depart?”

The girl thought a moment then shook her head. “No, thank you.”

“Very well, then.” Elizabeth and Georgiana embraced. “I shall see you upon my return.”

“Indeed.”

Elizabeth departed from Georgiana and after she and Darcy bade one another farewell, he helped her into the coach.

She arrived at Blithebury shortly after mid afternoon. Lon leapt from the bench and knocked before he returned the coach to help Elizabeth out. The door was opened by the Bingleys' butler but Kitty hurried past him to greet her older sister.

“Lizzie! How is Georgiana? Is she well?” Kitty threw her arms about Elizabeth.

Elizabeth chuckled. “All is well, dear. I am cold and I believe Georgiana's condition is stable enough that we may discuss it once we have entered the warmth of the house.”

“Oh, I apologize,” replied Kitty. “Of course.” She took Elizabeth's arm as they ascended the steps. She did not notice the look of amazement that had fallen across her older sister's face. Kitty had apologized to her for keeping her out in the cold. Ruefully Elizabeth supposed that Kitty would never cease to amaze her.

By the time they entered the foyer, Charles had helped Jane down the stairs. In the week and a half that Elizabeth had been at Pemberley, her sister seemed to have grown considerably. She leaned heavily on her husband before she embraced Elizabeth, or drew as close to her sister as she could with her swollen middle in between them.

“Caroline only left earlier today to visit some friends in town,” said Jane as Charles greeted Elizabeth.

“Indeed,” said Elizabeth, secretly relieved about Caroline's absence.

“How is Georgiana?” inquired Charles anxiously.

“She is doing far better now,” replied Elizabeth, excluding that there had been several times when she had been unsure of the report she would have to bear back to those at Blithebury. “She's far along in her recovery and it should only be a few more days before she is up and about once more.”

After freshening up, Elizabeth rejoined Charles, Jane, and Kitty in the parlor. Kitty sat at the pianoforte practicing a song that Georgiana had apparently tried to teach her before the accident.

Throughout the evening Elizabeth observed several changes in her younger sister. Kitty no longer looked for the opportunity to fling herself into any conversation. Instead she waited until her opinion was requested or until an appropriate moment arose for her to add to the conversation. She was also able to sit quietly for more than a few moments and only once did a thoughtless comment tumble from her lips. Elizabeth suspected much of Kitty's new poise had been adopted from her interactions with the contemptuous Caroline. Elizabeth would have to remember to thank her.

Caroline returned in time for supper. After making her personal inquiries after Georgiana's health at supper, she continued on to briefly describe her day out. Kitty remained silent and inconspicuous throughout the meal and soon after retired to her room.

Elizabeth followed her there, tapping gently at the door.

“Lizzie? Is that you?” asked Kitty.

“Yes. May I come in?”

Kitty opened the door. Elizabeth noticed that the girl's face was rather drawn and pale and the usual vivacious spark was absent from her eyes.

“Are you well?” asked Elizabeth, deeply concerned for her sister.

“No. I—I haven't slept well.”

“None of us have,” sighed Elizabeth.

Kitty sank down upon a chair. “She nearly died, did she not?” she asked hollowly.

Elizabeth hurried to her sister's side and knelt before her. “What happened is not your fault,” she insisted clasping Kitty's hands.

“But it is,” sobbed the girl. “I was the one who wanted to go ice skating, though it was so late in February. She did not truly want to go. I almost killed her and she's been so kind to me, almost like a sister.” Kitty buried her face in Elizabeth's shoulder as great gasping sobs wracked her shoulders. She slid to the floor as Elizabeth held her tightly, stroking her back.

“It was your quick thinking that saved her,” explained Elizabeth as Kitty's sobs grew softer. “Had you hesitated a moment longer, she may have disappeared. What happened is not your fault, dear.”

Elizabeth began to gently rock her sister. She recalled how frequently Jane had held her like this when they were growing up. Their mother had had little patience for Elizabeth's tears, claiming she had two other babies' cries to listen to without adding Elizabeth's. Had it not been for Jane and her father, Elizabeth believed that she would have built a firm barrier between herself and the hurts her mother inflicted upon her. All those times that her mother had humiliated her, scolded her, berated her, despaired of her. They had hurt far deeper than she had ever revealed to anyone. As one of the youngest and one of her mother's more favored daughters, Kitty had received a far more sympathy, but she had not been unaffected by her mother's lack of discretion in raising her daughters.

Kitty's tears eventually faded to small hiccoughs as she let Elizabeth hold and rock her.

“Would you like to stay with Jane until the baby is born?” asked Elizabeth after a short while. Kitty's conduct of late had convinced her that she was ready to no longer be viewed as a silly child, but as an adult.

“May I?” exclaimed Kitty sitting back and scrubbing the tears from her face. “I promise I shan't be a nuisance. And I shall be kinder to Caroline.”

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Kinder to Caroline.”

Kitty blushed. “She was so condescending towards me—about Lydia and mother—and I—I lost my temper. I hid her book and her embroidery and her music and watched as she tore around the house trying to find them.”

Elizabeth had to keep a smile from her face. “I'm afraid you are going to have to retain your temper,” she said.

“If I do, may I remain here?”

Elizabeth smiled gently. “Of course. I'm sure Jane would be grateful.”

Kitty threw her arms around Elizabeth. “Thank you, Lizzie!” she cried.

Elizabeth placed a gentle kiss on Kitty's hair. "Some bad experiences must have a happy ending," she murmured, but she did not think Kitty heard.

As Jane's time drew closer, Elizabeth wrote to her Aunt Mari in London, requesting her to come to Blithebury. Mrs. Gardiner arrived a week and a half later. She was delighted to see her nieces and amazed at the visible changes in Kitty.

One afternoon, a few days after her aunt had arrived, Elizabeth was sitting in the parlor with Caroline and Kitty. Caroline was in a particularly cheerful humor as she sketched a view of the gardens through the large window behind the pianoforte and conversed with Elizabeth. Kitty sat in a chair, her brow furrowed in concentration as she read the page of her book for the second time. Finally, with an exasperated sigh, she set the book in her lap.

“Why can he not write plainly?” she demanded of no one in particular.

Elizabeth looked up from her embroidery. “Because Shakespeare writes literature, dear, not superficial romance stories.”

“They are not superficial,” retorted Kitty.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. “Indeed? Then why are all story plots the same?”

Kitty scowled. “Those books are written for the enjoyment of people who do not wish to strain their minds for pleasure reading.”

“Shakespeare is pleasure reading,” commented Caroline, a small smirk on her lips.

Elizabeth's younger sister wrinkled her nose. “For you and Lizzie, perhaps.”

Caroline and Elizabeth could not help but laugh.

“You asked for a list of suggested books to read,” said Elizabeth. “I did not say you must read them. If you do not enjoy—”

“Oh, `tis not that I do not enjoy it,” interrupted Kitty hastily. “I think it is wonderful indeed!”

Elizabeth wondered just how true Kitty's insistence was but before she could comment, her aunt appeared in the doorway.

“Lizzie, dear, may I see you?” she asked.

Elizabeth set her embroidery on the table before her and went to her aunt. They stepped into the corridor as Caroline and Kitty followed them with curious glances.

“What is it?” Elizabeth asked, noting her aunt's urgency.

“It is Jane, her time has come.”

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. “What must I do?”

“You must go sit with her and keep her calm. Someone has been sent for the midwife. I shall be upstairs shortly.”

Elizabeth nodded and watched as her aunt hurried away. She recalled the confusion and anxiety that had surrounded Lydia's birth. All around there had been excited, yet hushed talk of a boy. As her aunt, Mrs. Phillips, had ridden up in her carriage and swept past them into their house, she and her sisters had been hurried over to the Lucas's home.

Elizabeth drew herself from her reverie and hurried up the stairs to Jane. Her sister was propped up in the bed, looking small and delicate among the many pillows. She smiled wanly as she caught sight of Elizabeth and reached her hands out to her.

Elizabeth went to her side. “How are you?” she asked, deeply concerned at the paleness of her sister's face.

Jane's smile became reassuring. “I am well,” she said. She winced and inhaled sharply for a moment before her face relaxed again and she breathed out. “I'm fine,” she murmured as she caught sight of Elizabeth's expression. She squeezed her sister's hand lightly.

“How long has it been?” asked Elizabeth.

Jane sighed. “At least an hour; after you left me for my nap. Aunt Mari said it would be a while before anything happened. That is why she only just went to get you. Forgive me—I wanted to tell you sooner.”

Elizabeth smiled gently. “You spared me the time to worry.”

Jane chuckled softly and shifted uncomfortably. Elizabeth rose from the bed and plumped her sister's pillows for her.

Mrs. Gardiner entered the room, followed by Ellen who bore a tray of tea. Ellen set it carefully on a side table and curtsied before leaving the room. Their aunt poured a cup for Jane and handed it to her. The cup clattered against the saucer as Jane took it with shaking hands.

“This will calm you,” Aunt Mari said gently, smoothing Jane's loose hair from her face.

Jane took a tentative sip. “Does Charles know?” she asked.

“Caroline has gone to tell him.”

Jane nodded and took another sip.

A short while later, a knock came at the door.

“May I come in?” asked Charles.

“Of course,” replied Elizabeth.

He opened the door carefully, as if the slightest sound would disturb his wife. “Jane?” he asked.

Jane smiled at him and he rushed to her side as Elizabeth and her aunt withdrew from the room, shutting the door behind them.

“I thought that Jane's time would be coming soon. I did not tell you earlier, but I sent for Darcy yesterday,” said Aunt Mari as they stood in the corridor.

“Why ever for?” said Elizabeth in surprise.

“He will keep Charles occupied and calm.”

Elizabeth frowned. “The last birth Darcy probably experienced was Georgiana's— when his mother died in childbirth. I wonder if he shall provide the companion Charles will need.”

“Darcy is a bright man—he shall do well,” Mrs. Gardiner replied.

Elizabeth did not know how to reply. Instead she said, “What shall we do with Kitty?”

“Caroline is going to sit with her. We may need their help though.”

Elizabeth swallowed and looked away from her aunt. Mrs. Gardiner pulled her into a tender embrace.

“Everything shall be fine, dear. There is no need to worry.”

“I've never done this before,” muttered Elizabeth into her aunt's shoulder.

“Just be strong for Jane. She is frightened.”

Elizabeth nodded and stepped back, squaring her shoulders. Her aunt smiled reassuringly at her. Caroline appeared at the end of the hall.

“I set Kitty in charge of making sure Charles's study is in order. I know it is something that Mrs. Lane, the housekeeper, could see to, but Kitty needs something to keep her occupied.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you, Caroline.”

The young woman nodded and joined Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner as they waited for Charles to come out again. When he did, he was considerably paler than he had been upon his appearance earlier.

“Come, Charles, you have not had dinner,” Caroline said gently as she led her brother away.

Elizabeth and her aunt heard him protest and his sister murmured reassuringly. The midwife, Mrs. Carroll, arrived two hours later and Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner spent the afternoon with Jane as they tried to keep her occupied and comfortable under the instruction of Mrs. Carroll.

Jane shifted uncomfortably. “My back,” she murmured. Aunt Mari moved to her side.

Elizabeth frowned in concern but Mrs. Carroll laid a hand on her shoulder. “She will be fine, dear. `Tis all natural.”

A knock came at the door and Mrs. Carroll opened it to reveal Ellen. The girl curtsied.

“Mr. Darcy has arrived. He has requested to see Mrs. Darcy in Mr. Bingley's study.”

Elizabeth glanced to her aunt.

“Go on dear, we shall be fine.”

Elizabeth smiled and hurried from the room. The door to Charles's study was closed and hushed murmurs came from within. Elizabeth knocked lightly and waited. The door was opened by Darcy.

A huge grin spread across his face as he caught sight of his wife. He stepped from the room and shut the door behind him, before drawing Elizabeth into a tight embrace.

“How is Georgiana?” she asked.

“She's doing very well. She still tires easily but her stamina is rapidly returning.”

Elizabeth shared his grin. “How wonderful!”

“How is Jane?”

“She's well. How is Charles?”

“He's fine for now. Caroline has done an admirable job of keeping him calm.”

“Do you know where Kitty is?”

“She is in the study with Caroline and Charles. She's anxious to see Jane.”

“Will you send her out to me?”

Darcy placed a kiss on her forehead. “Of course.” He returned inside and called for Kitty. She came out and smiled nervously upon seeing Elizabeth.

“Is Jane doing well?”

“Of course. I just thought you might like to see her.”

Kitty nodded and followed Elizabeth down the hall.

“Kitty!” exclaimed Jane, when they entered the room.

Mrs. Carroll turned. “Oh, good, it is time for her to walk about. She will need the extra support.”

Elizabeth and Kitty helped Jane from the bed and supported her between them. Jane winced as they made their way around the room. On the second round, she sank into a chair, exhausted. Elizabeth and Kitty waited for her to rest before they helped her up and continue around the room once more.

As the afternoon purpled into evening, Ellen lit a fire to warm the chilled room. Elizabeth began to sweat as she helped Jane walk around for the umpteenth time. Finally Jane fell onto her bed, groaning, but Mrs. Carroll urged her up again and made her walk around once more before she urged Jane to eat.

Elizabeth watched as her sister forced down a two slices of bread and some water. She noticed that her sister's hands shook as she tried to drink her water and much of it splashed down her front. Elizabeth frowned as Jane winced—apprehension swirled in her stomach as she forced herself to push thoughts of Darcy's mother from her mind. Her aunt laid a gentle hand on her arm and smiled reassuringly before she wiped the perspiration from Jane's forehead.

As the evening progressed and Jane was no longer able to rise from her bed, Elizabeth sent Kitty from the room, to sit with Caroline, Charles, and Darcy. Elizabeth sat by Jane's bed as Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. Carroll stepped from the room to speak for a few moments.

Jane looked at her sister. Her dark hair flopped over her shoulder in a matted braid and perspiration pooled on her upper lip. She took Elizabeth's hand in her shaking one.

“Lizzie,” she breathed. “Stay with me, no matter what.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Of course.”

Jane squeezed her eyes tightly as tears drifted down her cheeks. She moaned and laid a gentle hand on her swollen middle.

“Lizzie, I'm frightened,” she said, her breath catching in a sob.

Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her sister, gently stroking her hair as Jane sobbed into her shoulder. “You shall be fine, I promise, Jane,” she said firmly.

“Just do not leave,” Jane whispered into her shoulder.

Mrs. Carroll returned with Mrs. Gardiner as Mrs. Carroll rolled up her sleeves and washed her hands in the warm water that had been set on a table.

The next two hours were perhaps the longest Elizabeth had ever faced in her life as she watched Jane's face become washed in pain and listened as her sister cried out in agony. She wanted to shut the sound of Jane's cries out, but even should she have been inclined to place her hands over ears, she would have been unable to. Jane gripped her hand with a strength Elizabeth had not known possible in her sister. Eventually Elizabeth felt herself drawn into the whirl of Jane's cries and pain as she murmured comfortingly to her sister.

It wasn't until she heard a small mewing and then a baby's broken cries that she was drawn back to the room. Mrs. Carroll held up a squalling, red faced baby. Elizabeth looked down at her sister to see large tears rolling down her cheeks. But these tears did not mingle with her ones of pain. These shone brighter, each one filled with the many joys present in Jane's face, joys which Elizabeth could not even begin to fathom. Jane lay against the pillows as she weakly reached for the baby. Mrs. Carroll handed it to her.

“'Tis a healthy baby girl,” she announced proudly.

Jane trembled as she took the child in her arms. A look of astonishment filled her face as she gazed at the crying baby girl squirming in her arms. Elizabeth smiled and left quietly, leaving Jane to marvel at the tangible beginning that lay cradled against her breast.

“Lizzie! Lizzie,” called her aunt as she started down the hallway. Elizabeth turned as her aunt hurried to her.

“Not yet, dear,” said Mrs. Gardiner, placing a gentle hand on Elizabeth's arm.

Elizabeth smiled widely. “Why ever not? He wants to know immediately.”

Her aunt swallowed slowly and suddenly she looked weary and fragile.

“What is it?” demanded Elizabeth, her voice rising in fear. “Is something wrong with Jane?”

“I do not think so,” admitted her aunt vaguely.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed as her breath became labored. “Is something wrong?” she demanded once more.

“There was a lot of bleeding, more bleeding than usual. Jane is very weak.” Her aunt shrewdly observed the expression that fell over Elizabeth's face. “No dear, she is not going to die. But I do not want Charles to witness any of the blood or even a trace of it. She will be fine if she is not alarmed and his distress will only make her anxious.”

“What about the baby, is she truly healthy?”

Aunt Mari nodded. “The baby is fine, dear. Just wait out here for a few moments while Mrs. Carroll and I quickly bathe Jane.” Her aunt turned to return to the room.

“I shall help,” said Elizabeth decisively as she attempted to follow the older woman.

“No, no,” she said firmly. “You are to wait out here.” Her tone severed any form of protest that Elizabeth may have put forward. She set her hand on the knob and looked back at her niece. “Jane is fine, I promise, dear. Do not worry yourself. Childbirth is never easy and Jane did well.”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded. She waited outside Jane's bedroom until her aunt returned and sent her to summon Charles. As Elizabeth hurried down the corridor, she felt honored to be the one to announce the birth of his child. She rapped gently at the study door.

Almost immediately it was yanked open by Charles. His hair stood on end and his clothes were wrinkled as if he had switched positions frequently.

“Jane,” was all he managed to say.

Elizabeth smiled. “She's waiting for you.”

Without another word Charles hurried from the room before bursting into a sprint down the hall.

“I only hope that I am not as restless and distracted when your time comes,” drawled Darcy as he came to the door. “He did not even ask whether his child was a boy or a girl.”

Elizabeth laughed. “It was a girl and I am sure you shall be as bad as Charles, if not worse.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You believe so?”

Elizabeth shook her head gravely. “I know so.”

Darcy grinned and drew her into the study, closing the door behind her.

“Don't you want to see the baby?” Elizabeth asked, surprised.

“Charles will want some time to meet his daughter,” replied Darcy.

“I had not thought of that. Well what do you intend to do while you wait?”

“This.” He slid his arms about her waist and pulled her closer to him.

“Darcy this is not the proper place,” Elizabeth said sternly.

He frowned. “I suppose you are correct. I would not want anyone to accidentally walk in.”

“Indeed,” said Elizabeth curtly, but she did not draw away from him. She rested her head gently on his chest and closed her eyes. It had only just occurred to her how late it was and how tired she had become. She had missed the feel of his arms about her, the scent of his clothing, the sensation of his cheek pressed gently upon the top of her head.

“How is Jane?” he murmured, gently twirling a loose tendril of her hair about his finger.

“Aunt Mari says she shall be fine,” replied Elizabeth with a sigh.

“I suppose I shall have to see my new niece soon,” said Darcy, a hint of excitement and pride in his voice. But there was also just a bit of longing present as well.

“It is still difficult to believe I have one,” she muttered.

Darcy chuckled softly. “Do you know what they shall name her?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “Why do we not find out?”

They left Charles's study and joined Kitty and Caroline who stood outside the door of Jane and Charles's bedroom. Kitty tried to restrain her impatience as she shifted from foot to foot, her bright eyes dancing.

“We're waiting for Aunt Mari to bring the baby out,” announced Kitty softly, a broad smile on her lips. While Caroline was far more adept at concealing her anticipation, her smile was no less wide than Kitty's.

Aunt Mari stepped from the room with the sleeping babe held gently in her arms, followed by a beaming Charles. Kitty gasped quietly as she caught sight of her small niece, but Mrs. Gardiner handed the child to Elizabeth first.

Elizabeth swallowed as the baby's weight sank into her arms and she smiled down at the swaddled girl. A tear pricked at her eye and slid down her cheek as she held the little baby close.

Darcy and Caroline clustered at her sides and Kitty stood before her as they all gazed in awe at the little thing cradled against Elizabeth.

“This is Evelyn,” said Charles. “She is named for my mother.”

Caroline smiled. “May I hold her, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth carefully gave the baby to Caroline. “Evelyn Bingley,” Caroline murmured to herself as her eyes misted and she bowed her head to hide her tears. She handed the baby to Kitty.

“She's beautiful,” whispered the girl. Kitty giggled softly. “I cannot believe I am an aunt.”

“Me neither,” agreed Caroline, carefully wiping the tears from her face with a handkerchief.

Mrs. Gardiner took the baby from Kitty and returned to Jane. Charles and Darcy went off to celebrate Evelyn's birth while Caroline and Kitty returned to their rooms to prepare for bed. Elizabeth quietly entered Jane's bedroom.

Jane lay asleep on the pillows, her face pale and drawn. Mrs. Carroll sat in a chair, knitting and Mrs. Gardiner was settling Evelyn back into the crook of Jane's arm.

“Your sister is well,” said Mrs. Carroll, not looking up from her work. “All she needs is her rest and you best be getting yours.”

Mrs. Gardiner nodded and ushered Elizabeth from the room. “We will keep watch over Jane, Lizzie. You need your sleep. I noticed that you have not been sleeping well for the past few nights. I heard you downstairs at the pianoforte.”

Elizabeth blushed. “Did I wake you?”

Her aunt smiled. “I am a very light sleeper, dear.”

“I'm sorry.”

“There is no need. Your playing has improved far better than when you played for me two years ago.”

“Thank you,” murmured Elizabeth. She bade her aunt goodnight and retired to her room. She attempted to await Darcy's return but she fell asleep long before he came to bed.

Elizabeth rose late the next day and wrote her parents, Lydia, and Charlotte each a letter about Evelyn's birth. She went in search of a servant who was going in the direction of the town. After she found someone to take her letters, she went upstairs to check on Jane.

Her sister was fast asleep, as was Evelyn. Caroline sat on an upholstered stool before Evelyn's cradle, making a careful drawing of the sleeping baby. The windows of the room were open to invite in the unusual warmth of the March day and sunlight spilled carelessly across the floor.

“Kitty left only a short time ago,” said Caroline, looking up. “Mrs. Gardiner said Evelyn's nurse should be here by tomorrow; Evelyn was not expected for another week or two.”

“Have my aunt and Mrs. Carroll laid down to rest?”

Caroline nodded. “I said I would watch over Jane.”

Elizabeth frowned. “Would you mind if I went out to the gardens? Or I could stay with Jane for you,” she offered.

Charles's sister smiled. “I have a little while before I finish Evelyn's portrait. I don't mind staying with Jane.”

Elizabeth thanked her and retreated from the room. Unsure of exactly what she wanted to do, she wandered out to the gardens, eager to enjoy the respite from winter. Small clumps of snow stood on either side of the cleared pathway. Absently she followed the lane until she had wandered out of sight of the house. The path was uncleared here and the snow appeared black and brown with mud. The day was too nice to turn back simply because of some snow and mud. Elizabeth hitched up her skirt and stepped through the snow, enjoying the feel of it giving way beneath her feet.

Her perched bonnet slid from her head and she bent to retrieve it. After the third time it fell, she tied the ribbons about her neck and let the hat hang down her back. She smiled happily as fresh air pervaded her nose and sunlight warmed her skin. Elizabeth heard hoof beats of a horse crunching through the snow before her. Hastily she drew up her bonnet and fumbled with the ribbons.

“Good day, Mrs. Darcy,” said her husband as he rode up.

Elizabeth smiled and let her bonnet slide back to its position on her back.

“Good day, Mr. Darcy. Wonderful day for a ride, is it not?”

He laughed and turned the horse so that it stood across her path. He leapt down and picked her up, hoisting her carefully into the saddle before swinging up behind her.

“I would suggest you secure your hat, madam,” said Darcy as he clucked the horse into a canter.

Elizabeth grabbed off her hat as they took off from the path. Darcy held her securely as they sped up, riding across the snow covered acres of Blithebury. The cold wind whipped at Elizabeth's cheeks and she shivered as it rushed about her. Darcy slowed and pulled off his cloak, wrapping it tightly about her. Its warmth enveloped her as he secured it.

“How did you know I was walking in the garden?” she asked.

“I happened to see you from a window just before you disappeared. I guessed that you might enjoy my company.”

Elizabeth nestled closer to his warmth. “I simply needed to get away from the house for a while.”

“Lizzie, do not worry about feeling selfish. You are far from being so,” he said gently.

She started. “Selfish?”

“I saw how you looked at Evelyn, your longing.”

Elizabeth was amazed to find that was exactly what had driven her from Blithebury—the deep longing she felt, her desire that Evelyn were hers.

“You feel it too?” she asked.

Darcy hesitated, and then sighed. “Yes, I do. But Lizzie, more important to me than children is you.”

“I know,” she replied as they emerged from a grove of trees at the road leading to the Bingleys' driveway. A distance ahead of them was a mud splattered coach. Elizabeth squinted.

“I don't believe I recognize that coach. Do you?” she asked.

“No, I do not.”

“Let's return the way we came. I would detest for any visitors to see me in this state.”

Darcy chuckled. “I believe you look beautiful but we shall return way we came that you may retain your dignity. Hold fast.” He turned the horse and nudged it into a gallop.

After handing the horse over to the stable hands, Elizabeth and Darcy hurried up to the house, entering through a side door into the kitchen corridor. They crept up the servants' steps to the second floor and their bedroom where they rapidly changed from their mud splattered clothing and Elizabeth re-coiled her hair into a bun.

“Who do you suppose it is?” asked Elizabeth as they went to the stairwell.

“Perhaps one of Charles's friends, come to offer him congratulations.”

“Word travels fast then,” commented Elizabeth.

“Who else could it be?”

She frowned in bewilderment. “I cannot venture a guess better than yours.”

At that moment, someone rushed into the foyer, chatting gaily. It took a moment for Elizabeth to recognize the young woman's voice, as she had not heard it in a long while. Lydia appeared, practically dragging a protesting Kitty behind her. A voice and footsteps followed and George Wickham appeared at the foot of the steps.

Darcy froze beside Elizabeth and she nearly lost her balance as she continued forward. He grasped her arm and steadied her but his gaze never left the man standing below them.

“Lizzie!” cried Lydia when she caught sight of her sister at the top of the stairwell. “How wonderful to see you! It seems to have been forever since I last saw you!”

Elizabeth stood speechless as her youngest sister dropped Kitty's hand to race up the stairs to throw her arms about her.

“Lydia,” she said weakly. “You did not say you were coming.”

Lydia tittered. “I thought I might surprise Jane and you! Isn't this wonderful? We're all here together, except Mary, but we can easily send for her! Oh Lizzie dear! You look absolutely marvelous.”

Elizabeth could not find the proper words to respond. She looked from Darcy to Wickham and then to Lydia who still had her hands on Elizabeth's shoulders.

“How do you do, Mr. Wickham, Mrs. Wickham?” said Darcy politely.

Lydia simpered. “Quite well, Mr. Darcy. George, do come greet my sister's husband politely. After all, he was one of the few present at our wedding!”

Elizabeth blushed for her sister and saw that Kitty did the same. While the younger girl did not know the background of contempt that spanned between Darcy and Wickham, she could not miss the openly disdainful looks that had briefly passed over the two men's' faces as they caught sight of one another. Over the few months that she had lived with Elizabeth and Darcy, she had come to respect her sister's husband's opinion and hold him in the highest regard and now his disdain was beginning to mar her once favorable opinion of her younger sister's husband.

“Lydia, perhaps I should have the housekeeper show you and Mr. Wickham to a room,” Kitty said meekly. “Charles and Caroline are with Jane right now but I will have them sent to greet you as soon as they are done.”

Lydia waved away Kitty's offer. “Why do we not go see Jane now!” she suggested.

“I believe that is not wise,” Elizabeth said firmly, finding her voice. “She is exhausted and does not need any more excitement than necessary. Kitty, go find Ellen and have her prepare a room for Lydia and Mr. Wickham. Darcy, perhaps you ought to alert Charles that he has guests?”

“Of course.” Darcy bowed curtly to Lydia and Mr. Wickham before he disappeared down the hall. Kitty hesitated, looking to Elizabeth.

“Hurry now Kitty, I am sure they are exhausted after their journey.”

She turned and hurried from the foyer, eager to escape the tension that suffocated the air.

Elizabeth forced herself to smile. “Welcome, Mr. Wickham. I apologize for such a disorganized reception, but you must understand we were quite unprepared.”

He bowed to her, though there was a hint of mocking in it. Elizabeth had long ago discovered the true George Wickham, and unlike the rest of her family, she was no longer able to appreciate his genteel manners, his kind compliments, or his good humor. He had been stripped of his façade before her. Wickham in turn had long regretted the loss of such an intelligent and beautiful woman and even more so, though he detested to admit it to himself, the loss of her good opinion.

“It is not a problem at all. How do you do, Mrs. Darcy?”

“Quite well, thank you,” Elizabeth replied graciously.

Lydia looked between her husband and her sister. “Why all this courteousness between you two? You used to be quite good friends!” She giggled. “For the longest time I thought that it would be Lizzie married to my George!” She lowered her voice, her eyes twinkling. “Do not tell me that you are jealous?”

Elizabeth bit back the urge to sneer at her sister's jest. After so long away from Lydia and the changes in Kitty, she found she was not as tolerant as she had once been of her sister's foolishness. Or perhaps it was because George Wickham was involved that Lydia's teasing left such a terrible taste in her mouth.

“I do not envy my sister's their husbands,” Elizabeth said softly.

Lydia frowned playfully. “What is there not to envy about my husband, except that he does not have as much money as yours?” she demanded in mock indignation.

The question is, what is there to envy about your husband, thought Elizabeth, but aloud she said nothing and simply smiled. Elizabeth only prayed, for Lydia's sake, that her sister would always remain as blind to Wickham's faults as she had been the day that she had married him.

At Lydia's insistence, Elizabeth took her directly to see Jane. Their older sister was awake and holding a sleeping Evelyn. The baby's tiny fists curled beside her face as she whimpered in her sleep. Jane's eyes widened and her jaw slackened upon seeing Lydia. For a few moments she was completely speechless before she exclaimed, “Lydia. What a surprise!”

Lydia rushed over to embrace her sister. “I've missed you so Jane!” she cried. Evelyn stirred and Jane gasped. Lydia broke away from her.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I just got her to go to sleep,” Jane said softly. “If she should wake up again I may not succeed at putting her back to sleep.

“May I hold her?” asked Lydia eagerly, though she had lowered the volume of her voice.

Jane nodded and gently set the baby in Lydia's arms. “Her name is Evelyn,” she said, smiling at her little girl. She tenderly readjusted Evelyn's blanket as Lydia rocked the baby. Jane no longer appeared so startled by Lydia's arrival, but Elizabeth suspected that her sister had come to realize that Lydia enjoyed spontaneity and resigned herself to Lydia's surprises.

“She's just the most precious thing!” exclaimed Lydia.

“She was named for Charles's mother,” Jane said proudly, as Elizabeth fussed over her, adjusting her pillows and smoothing the covers.

Lydia smiled. “I want a little girl, but my George does not want any children, or if any, he wants a little boy.” Her eyes brightened as she gasped. “You could name us her guardians!”

A horrified expression passed over Jane's face. “Guardianship is—well, it's a very large matter. Charles and I still must discuss it,” she stammered.

“I would take care of her. Then I could have a daughter without losing my waist! Did you know it's the slimmest it has ever been?”

“No, I didn't,” replied Jane, dumbfounded.

“Indeed,” said Lydia. She fell silent, watching Evelyn sleeping in her arms. Elizabeth was amazed to see an unfamiliar expression present on her youngest sister's face, so unfamiliar that Elizabeth hardly recognized it. It was one of gentle love, the unconditional love that was often absent from the visages of selfish individuals.

Jane soon fell asleep and Elizabeth carefully returned Evelyn to her cradle. She led Lydia from the room and met one of the servants, Nancy, in the hall. She had the young woman show Lydia to the room that had been prepared for her. When Lydia was out of sight, Elizabeth went to her bedroom. Darcy was there, stretched out in a chair.

She blushed and hung her head upon seeing him. “I am sorry, Darcy,” she said, “I have no idea what Lydia was thinking, coming all this way unannounced.”

“It is not your fault, Lizzie,” he said.

Elizabeth sighed wearily and went to his side. “I know, but I so wanted you to enjoy your time here at Blithebury.”

Darcy reached up and took her hand. “I will be fine Lizzie, do not worry about me.”

“I don't know what to say to her,” Elizabeth said in exasperation, sinking to the floor. “I thought—we thought—that marriage, even to Wickham—would perhaps dull her slightly, but she is as flighty as ever.” She rested her head against his knee.

“This is perhaps the most joyous time of Jane and Charles's life. I nearly obstructed them from happiness once before; I will not do it again,” said Darcy. “I shall put my feelings for Wickham aside so long as I am their guest.”

“Thank you, Darcy,” Elizabeth murmured.

A knock came at their door. “Lizzie? May I come in?”

Elizabeth rose from the floor and looked back at Darcy. He nodded and stood, coming up behind her as she opened the door.

“May I speak to you?” Kitty asked softly. She kept her eyes downcast and she appeared agitated as she shifted on her feet.

“Of course, come in,” Elizabeth held the door open. “Would you excuse us, Darcy?”

He nodded and strode from the room. Elizabeth shut the door behind him and turned to her sister.

“What is it, dear?”

Kitty wrung her hands. “Lizzie, what's happened to Lydia?” she burst out.

Elizabeth blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Why is she so shallow? Why was I so embarrassed by her? What's happened to her?”

Elizabeth bit her lip, wondering what to tell her sister and how much to tell her. Kitty grew even more agitated at Elizabeth's lack of response. Finally Elizabeth sighed. “Do you know why you went to live with Jane and then came me?” she asked.

Kitty looked taken aback but remained quiet for a few moments, thinking. After the time she had spent around Caroline, she had subconsciously picked up the habit of thinking before she spoke. It was one more thing Elizabeth had Caroline Bingley to thank for.

“Because Mother and Father could not care for me any longer?” she asked finally.

Elizabeth shook her head. “When Lydia eloped a little more than a year ago, the family was in an uproar—we had no idea to what extent Lydia had ruined her reputation and whether we would be able to find her before something took a turn for the worse. After the matter was settled Jane and I became afraid for you—so far as we had observed, you were perhaps as flighty and thoughtless as Lydia. Our father, for a time at least, constrained you but you were wearing at him. Jane and I decided it would be best to withdraw you from contact with Lydia's and Mother's influence. We hoped that though it was late, we would be able to at least mold you into an acceptable young woman. That is why you came to live with us.”

Kitty swallowed. “What's happened to Lydia though?” she persisted.

“Nothing,” replied Elizabeth. “It is you that has changed. You've matured quite nicely, as we hoped.”

“Will Lydia change?” murmured Kitty.

Elizabeth exhaled. “I do not believe so, dear,” she admitted slowly.

A large tear rolled down Kitty's cheek and plopped onto her dress, leaving a dark stain on the material. Elizabeth held out her arms to her and Kitty rushed into them, burying her cheek in Elizabeth's shoulder as she sobbed.

“Don't cry Kitty,” Elizabeth said gently, holding her sister.

“Am I like Lydia?” Kitty moaned.

“No, not at all Kitty, not any more,” Elizabeth replied firmly.

Kitty sobbed. “What's wrong with me then?”

Elizabeth's eyebrows rose. “Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I'm the only sister that is not married,” Kitty wailed, though her voice was muffled by Elizabeth's shoulder.

Elizabeth was speechless. “Mary is not married,” she stammered.

“Mary won't ever marry.”

“You should not say such things,” Elizabeth said sharply, though she admitted to herself that she frequently wondered if Mary would ever marry.

“I'm going to be an old maid.”

“No you won't,” soothed Elizabeth. “You have become a sweet girl. Georgiana is not married yet, or even engaged.”

Kitty sobbed as she thought this over. “I suppose so.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Kitty dear, it does not matter when you marry but who you marry. You want to be happy, don't you?”

Kitty sniffed. “Yes.”

“I have an idea. Spring shall be arriving soon. When we return to Pemberley I shall have the seamstress come and we can all choose new spring dresses.”

Kitty blushed. “I haven't enough money to buy dresses as pretty as yours and Georgiana's.”

Elizabeth scowled. “Darcy and I have agreed that we will support you in the same way which we support Georgiana until you are married. Therefore you need not worry about the dresses.” She grinned.

Kitty wrapped her arms around Elizabeth's waist. “You are so good to me Lizzie! I've done nothing to deserve you as a sister.”

Elizabeth blushed. “I have often said the same thing to Jane,” she muttered, embarrassed.

Kitty smiled up at her sister through her tears. “Thank you, Lizzie.”

“For what?”

“For saving me from the uncontrollable girl that I was.”

Elizabeth shook her head. “It was you. You made the choice to change.”

Kitty grinned and placed a kiss on Elizabeth's cheek. “Well thank you for showing me that choice.”

Elizabeth returned her grin. “You're welcome, Kitty.”

Over Kitty's shoulder, Elizabeth caught sight of Lydia standing in the doorway, standing quite still and quiet, an unusual feat for Lydia. How long had she been there?

“What is it Lydia?” she asked.

Kitty twisted to see her sister. “Hello Lydia.”

“I came to greet Kitty. Caroline told me I would probably find her here.”

Kitty and Elizabeth shared a smile before Kitty rose and pulled her sister from the room, shutting the door behind her.

Elizabeth sighed and rose. Handling Kitty was quite challenging; she was frequently afraid of saying the wrong thing to the young girl. Elizabeth was not quite confident of Kitty's maturity and she feared distancing her sister. Not for the first time, a feeling of regret settled over Elizabeth as she recalled how she had ignored Kitty for so long. Perhaps she had thought by ignoring Kitty, her behavior would dissipate. How wrong she had been then and now she was faced with the task of drawing Kitty from childhood into adulthood. It was a journey that every young person made. A person's childhood was a compilation of memories, events, and lessons that flowed into their youth. Most spent their youth experimenting with the world, putting one foot forward to test it and hastily drawing back until they gained the courage to wade into the world of adulthood. While many had a strong, guiding hand to grasp as they tumbled through their childhood and youth, Kitty had not had a strong one. She had been left alone to float upon the barrier, cast forward from the ranks of childhood and too inexperienced and frightened to broach the world of adulthood.

Elizabeth sighed again and lay down to take a short rest before supper.

“Lizzie, Lizzie, wake up.” Darcy's voice pervaded her sleep-shadowed mind. Her eyes blinked open to see him standing over her.

“We have but only a few moments before supper,” he informed her, turning from the bed. With an unladylike snort of exasperation, Elizabeth rose and began to prepare for supper.

She was sitting at the vanity carefully pinning up her long hair when Darcy reentered from the dressing room. He leaned against the bedpost, watching her. Despite his relaxed posture, Elizabeth could plainly see the tension in his shoulders, the firm downturn of his lips, and the cool detachment in his eyes.

She paused, dropping her hands to her lap. “You need not come to supper,” she said softly. “I could make an excuse for you.” His jaw tightened and his eyes hardened. Elizabeth immediately regretted her suggestion. “Never mind, that was a thoughtless suggestion,” she added hastily. “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Are you ready?” he asked curtly.

Elizabeth swallowed. “Yes,” she murmured, feeling ashamed. She rose wearily and went to his side. “I'm sorry, Darcy.”

He looked down at her. “Do not worry yourself, Elizabeth.” His eyes had softened but his voice was still distant.

She glanced down at her feet. He had been hurt by her suggestion. She should not have been so careless. Elizabeth set her arm on his and they left their room in silence.

Elizabeth and Darcy arrived in the dining chamber to find Charles and Jane already seated. Charles must have carried Jane down for she still looked far too weak to walk by herself. Mrs. Gardiner sat beside Jane. Darcy pulled a chair out for Elizabeth and she took her seat. Darcy had only drawn his seat from the table when Caroline swept in, her features lined with irritation. Elizabeth wondered what had annoyed her so but said nothing, not wanting to further provoke the young woman.

Kitty entered shortly behind Caroline, apologizing for her late arrival. “I could not find my shawl,” she explained. “I thought I had put it away but it was not there.”

“Did you leave it in the parlor?” Caroline demanded impatiently.

Kitty shook her head, appearing both annoyed with Caroline and upset over the loss of her shawl.

“What color is it?” asked Jane.

“It is blue. `Tis the one Lizzie gave me for my birthday.”

“I am sure it shall turn up,” Mrs. Gardiner said soothingly.

“I hope so,” said Kitty.

The group fell into silence as they awaited Lydia and Wickham. While Charles and Jane maintained their exterior composure and drew everyone into conversation, Elizabeth could tell that Caroline grew more agitated. Elizabeth glanced quickly at Darcy to see that he wore a carefully guarded expression. Her aunt attempted to hide her irritation.

A quarter of an hour later, Lydia arrived. Elizabeth and Kitty's eyes widened upon seeing her. She smiled as she floated in. “George requested that I give you his regrets that he is unable to join us. He is quite tired from the long journey.”

“Of course,” said Charles, warmly. “I would expect so.”

Lydia took a seat, oblivious to the scowl that Caroline now wore openly. The servants arrived with the first course. As they began to eat, Caroline glanced between Kitty and Lydia. “Why Lydia that certainly is a most delicate shawl you are wearing this evening,” she said lightly. “Is it not Kitty?”

Elizabeth frowned. Caroline was trying to draw Kitty into open disagreement with her sister, adding one more reason to why she had ridiculed the Bennet sisters. Elizabeth prayed that Kitty would not fall for Caroline's bait, as she would have done a few months before.

Kitty smiled, though she looked slightly confused. “Indeed it is,” she agreed.

“Were you not missing a shawl? Does it look similar to this one?” Caroline's voice was conversational as she gazed levelly at Kitty.

Lydia laughed. “This shawl? Why it is Kitty's! I found it in her trunk and thought it went well with my dress.”

Caroline laughed delicately. “Why Kitty all this time you were worried about losing your shawl when Lydia had it the entire time!” She seemed to dare Kitty to ask Lydia to return her shawl.

Instead Kitty smiled and laughed herself. “Dear me! I recall now. I lent it to Lydia when she saw it lying in my trunk. I apologize for worrying everyone.”

Elizabeth could have kissed Kitty for the expression that passed over Caroline's face. Her cheeks crimsoned as she caught Elizabeth watching her and she fell silent. Lydia looked confused over the entire exchange but said nothing about it.

“Your house is simply wonderful,” she said to Jane. “So large and so well decorated!”

Jane blushed lightly and smiled. “Thank you.”

“And the rug in our bedroom, it must have cost a fortune to import such a beautiful piece. Certainly more than George and I could ever dream of having to spend on décor.”

Elizabeth wanted to flow into the floor and disappear as Lydia chatted on about the house and then moved on to the grounds, before she turned to discussion of the wonderful officers she had met after marriage to Wickham. Nothing Elizabeth, Jane, or Kitty said could distract her.

While Charles looked politely interested in what Lydia had to say, Elizabeth could almost feel contempt growing within Caroline and she could not bear to look at Darcy. Lydia was worse than she recalled. The wonderful supper lost its appeal as she wished only to finish and have Lydia return to her room. Elizabeth watched Kitty's pained expression as, for the first time, she experienced Lydia's foolishness and could do nothing to stop the shroud of humiliation that Lydia was drawing over herself and her family. Mrs. Gardiner sat rigid and silent, hardly able to believe her niece's behavior. Her face wore a pained expression that Elizabeth had never before witnessed.

When the last dessert plate was cleared from the table, Elizabeth sat back. She had never been so pleased for supper to end.

“Lydia, you must be exhausted from your journey. Suppose I escort you to your room,” suggested Kitty as soon as it was polite to rise from the table.

To all three of her sisters' relief, Lydia agreed and allowed Kitty to escort her from the room. Elizabeth met Caroline's eyes and looked away. The scorn present in her blue gaze did was not unwarranted. She saw Jane lean over and murmur something to her husband. Her face looked drawn and her movements were slow and weak. Supper with everyone had drained her. Charles's face filled with concern and he nodded and motioned to Mrs. Gardiner. She rose and they excused themselves before helping Jane from the room.

Elizabeth swallowed. “I must write a letter to Georgiana. I have not written her in such a while,” she said as a means of excusing herself. Without waiting for Darcy or Caroline to respond, she hurried from the room not wanting to linger to hear what Caroline might say.

She stood in the foyer debating on where she should proceed next. Caroline would be unbearable for the rest of the evening, Jane needed to rest, Charles and Darcy would spend the evening together, and her aunt had not been feeling well so it was more than probable that she would retire for the evening. That left only Kitty. Elizabeth set out to find her.

Elizabeth arrived outside Kitty's door. It stood ajar and heated voices came from within. She started to turn away, not wanting to eavesdrop. But the tone of Lydia's voice stopped her.

“You are no fun anymore, Kitty. We used to borrow one another's things all the time,” said Lydia, her voice nearly unrecognizable with the chill that emanated from it.

“That shawl is very special to me,” replied Kitty. Her voice sounded as if she were on the verge of tears. “Lizzie gave it to me for my birthday and I know it was very expensive. She had it specially made.”

“You loaned it to Georgiana in London,” retorted Lydia.

“She asked,” said Kitty.

“You are a snob, Catherine Bennet! You are suddenly brought into the world of wealth and now everything is too precious to loan to those who you feel to be beneath you.”

“No,” whimpered Kitty.

“Yes you are. Just like Elizabeth and Jane. All of you are now too good for your sister because you have money.”

“But Lydia, you have missed what I am trying to tell you about supper,” Kitty said desperately.

“I've missed nothing,” said Lydia icily. “You too are now trying to put on airs; pretending to fit in with them.”

“Jane and Lizzie are not snobs. They know how to present themselves properly.” Kitty's voice had become harsh.

“What does that mean?” snarled Lydia.

“It means they don't elope with disreputable men and nearly ruin their reputation and that of their family!”

The tense silence that followed Kitty's accusation rushed to the corners of the room, filling it and spilling out to where Elizabeth stood in the hall.

It was in that moment that Elizabeth came to appreciate the true change in Kitty—she had passed from her uncontrolled childhood to the maturity of adulthood. Elizabeth frowned. She should be joyful at Kitty's passage but she had a feeling that if the argument went any further, Kitty would realize the firmness of her decision and forever ruin her relationship with Lydia. She hastily pushed open the door to reveal her presence. She stepped into the room in time to see Lydia's hand collide with Kitty's cheek.

“You have always been one to look for approval, to please. That is all you were ever good for. `Tis no wonder mother liked you least between the two of us, no one wants a brainless girl for a daughter. You aren't even married yet. No man wants an idiot for a wife either,” shrieked Lydia.

Kitty stood stunned, her mouth agape. Elizabeth saw Kitty's face contort into an expression she had never before seen her sister don. There was no word to describe the hurt, betrayal, anger, disgust, and enlightenment that fell over Kitty's face. For years it had been Lydia, despite being two years Kitty's junior, who had led them. Lydia had been the girl Kitty looked up to, for while she had felt distanced from the intellectualism that surrounded her older sisters, the fun and excitement that followed Lydia was not difficult to access. Now Kitty realized the shallowness of her younger sister, the insincerity of her character. Kitty drew back her hand and left the red mark of her hand upon Lydia's face.

“Mother should have given you that slap years ago,” whispered Kitty, the chill in her voice smothering the heat that had risen in Lydia's face. “Perhaps you will now recognize that there are others beside yourself and just how ignorant you truly are.”

Elizabeth stumbled away from the doorway and hurried away before either of her sisters saw her. There was little she could do for her sisters now. She now had to trust Kitty to make decisions for herself. Guilt sank unpleasantly into her stomach for having eavesdropped for so long. She turned the corner and paused to catch her breath; not realizing that it had began to come unevenly as she witnessed the exchange between her youngest sisters. Elizabeth closed her eyes and composed herself before she hurried off to Jane's bedchamber.

She came to the door and poised her hand to knock before she realized there was someone she needed more than Jane at this moment.

Elizabeth found Darcy in the parlor with Caroline, who sat elegantly perched upon a divan, her evening dress falling in graceful waves to the floor. She fell abruptly silent at Elizabeth's entrance, though from the angered expression upon Darcy's face, it was not difficult to discern the subject which she had been discussing.

“Am I entering upon a private conversation?” Elizabeth asked evenly, though she felt anything but calm within.

“Why, in fact, yes, we-,” began Caroline, but Darcy interrupted her sharply.

“No, this conversation was ceased long ago.”

Caroline pursed her lips but made no response.

“Come, Lizzie. You do not look well. I shall escort you upstairs immediately.” He strode across the room and gently took her elbow, leading her from the room. Elizabeth turned to see that Caroline had risen, her beautiful features drawn into a frown. Darcy's face was set as he hurried Elizabeth away from the parlor and up the stairs. When they reached their guestroom, he shut the door behind him and turned to face her, to draw her into his arms. But Elizabeth stepped away.

Darcy's jaw tightened and there was a slight twitch in his cheek. “Elizabeth I-,”

“No, Fitzwilliam, I must say this; it is why I came to the parlor looking for you.” She swallowed, waiting hesitantly to see if he would say anything. When he did not, she continued. “I've realized that I have not been entirely forthcoming with you. When Wickham arrived, I should have asked if you would like to return home. I know you shall repeat what you said earlier, but I must have you know that how you feel is of great importance to me and I will not have you remain in a situation in which you do not wish to reside. I should have told you earlier that I would not be angered nor hurt should you return to Pemberley and Jane would understand as well.” Elizabeth looked down at the floor, for the first time noticing the intricate floral bordering on the rug. “And I was humiliated over supper,” she said quietly, unable, once more that evening, to meet his gaze. “I apologize for Lydia's actions.”

Silence trickled between them for a few moments before she felt Darcy's cool fingers on her cheek. “What more is upon your mind, Elizabeth?” he murmured.

She closed her eyes as she felt the prick of tears beneath her eyelids. “It's Kitty.”

“What is wrong with Kitty?”

“Nothing, that is what is wrong! She is becoming everything I wanted her to be. She is creating an identity for herself. Yet it pains me every time I see how much further it is drawing her from Lydia. I cannot help but look at the distance between them and realize that perhaps it is my fault and perhaps that not everything I have done is for Kitty alone!”

A tear escaped from its prison within her eyelid. Darcy gently brushed it away with his thumb.

“Elizabeth, why are you ashamed to look at me?” he demanded tenderly.

Her eyes opened slowly as a flood of tears burst forth. “I am ashamed because my youngest sister is a fool who has married a shameful man. I have tainted your name with his and yet though he is your greatest foe, a man who has carelessly strewn dirt upon your reputation in the minds of others, you treat him as a brother, for the sake of your wife. And though you remain so selfless, to set aside your detestation for love of your wife, I remain selfish. I take in my sister to cultivate her into a proper young woman. Not only because it is what is best for her, but because I cannot bear to endure the humiliation that Lydia brought upon my family once more. When my wretched brother-in-law and sister arrive, I do not ask you how you truly feel because I believe I know the answer. `Tis easier to stay here and pretend that we are all happy than to know the truth and yet force you to stay anyway. At supper, when I suggested that you not come, I was telling you that I did not believe you capable of handling yourself, of being half the man that you are. There is no greater wrong than for someone to doubt the person that they love.”

Darcy placed his other hand upon her shoulder as the hand that cupped her cheek moved to grip her chin, not allowing her to hang her head. “Elizabeth I am not as good as you seem to think I am. Everything good that you say I have done for Wickham was done for you. Before we were engaged, I took advantage of your family's situation not only to service my own guilt at not preventing Wickham from doing what he had nearly done to my sister, but to gain prestige in your eyes which had been clouded by my pride and foolish self-importance. In my pride, I did not pause to reassure you that the birth of our niece was more important to me than the sentiments I have towards Wickham. You are no more selfish than anyone else in this world who truly loves another. Every time I see you with Georgiana, Kitty, and Jane, I am reminded through you of what love truly is and how the expression of that love changes those around us.” His voice caught. “Every morning that I awake and see you lying asleep beside me, I recall how you changed me, how you saw me not for all my wealth and for all the other things I possessed to my advantage, but as a man with all the shortcomings of any other human. It is I who should stand before you and admit my selfishness! It was you, of the two of us who first looked at me as a human being, pushing aside all the assets of my class. And somehow, despite my haughtiness, my self-importance, my cruel derision of your family, you found away to forgive me and then to love me.”

Elizabeth bit her lip as his eyes held hers. She was startled to see a tear waver and fall from the crease of his eye. Tentatively, she took his large hand in her much smaller one, curling her fingers through his. “Do you not see though?” she said softly, her voice wavering, “I could not love you if it were not for your shortcomings, Fitzwilliam. For then I would love a perfect man and true perfection can never be beheld in the same way by any two people. If you were a perfect man, then my love and appreciation for you would never extend beyond the boundary that divides man from the pedestal of ultimate perfection behind which everyone would stand with me.”

He smoothed her hair from her face. “My love for you is the same, Elizabeth. With your imperfections as well as your virtues, you allow me to pass beyond that boundary and destroy the ultimate perfection to makes you inaccessible to any one person.”

“I love you, Fitzwilliam,” said Elizabeth. “`Tis such a simple word for so great a feeling.”

“Or perhaps it is its simplicity that allows it to express such a range of emotion. But I do not care about the intricacies of the word. Only that `love' is the only word that I have been given to express the indescribable feelings I have for you, no matter how inadequate it may be. Therefore, I love you, Elizabeth.”

He gently pushed a loose strand from her face and leaned towards her. In the moment that their lips met, Elizabeth realized that somehow, though it hardly seemed possible, their love for one another had transcended an invisible layer into a newer and deeper plane which they had yet to explore.

The previous night at supper had drained Jane of any energy reserves that she may have had. She sat propped against her pillows in her bed, her face pale and drawn as she watched Elizabeth completing the last part of Evelyn's quilt, Kitty knitting, and Lydia attempting to embroider. Caroline had excused herself earlier, saying that she had calls to make and the warmth of the day had drawn Charles, Darcy, and Wickham outdoors. Mrs. Gardiner had escorted Mrs. Carroll home before she was to meet Evelyn's nurse in town.

“It is so wonderful to have the men find something with which to occupy themselves outside of the house,” said Lydia airily as she pulled her needle through the fabric. “Though I have been married nearly two years, which is quite hard to believe in itself, it is yet difficult to believe that marriage can become so bothersome in such a short time.”

“Whatever do you mean?” asked Jane weakly, a wan smile upon her face. “Charles and I are perfectly happy.”

“Well of course,” Lydia said dismissively. “You have a baby girl to break up the monotony.”

Elizabeth looked up from her stitching. “I do not believe a baby is meant to `break up the monotony' of a marriage, Lydia.”

“Oh, Lizzie, you've been married not even a year! You will understand in due time, will she not, Jane?”

Elizabeth dropped her head to conceal her smirk. Lydia's attempt to sound knowledgeable was ridiculous and not worth any response.

Jane appeared slightly confused. “Charles and I were perfectly happy, even before Evelyn arrived, Lydia. There was nothing monotonous in our marriage.”

Lydia pursed her lips. “Oh. Well I did not mean that marriage was monotonous all the time, only sometimes.”

“Of course,” replied Jane and Kitty simultaneously, though while Jane's was an attempt to retain Lydia's good spirits, Kitty's voice was full of sarcasm. Jane turned to Kitty in surprise, but Elizabeth carefully kept her eyes adverted from all of her sisters.

“Why Kitty, there is no need for such a tone,” Jane said, delivering her gentle rebuke with a smile. “Marriage is a different case between each couple.”

Elizabeth thought she heard Kitty mutter `apparently' under her breath, but she felt that if no one else heard it, it was best to let her comment drift to the floor and disappear underfoot.

“Indeed it is,” said Lydia. “Each couple has special circumstances.” It sounded more as if she attempted to console herself than to agree with Jane.

Jane sighed and closed her eyes. “I am truly sorry to have spent so short a time awake, but I am so tired,” she said softly. Kitty immediately understood Jane's hint and made an excuse of having to find more pastel yarn. Lydia lingered a few moments longer before she left, bored of the lack of conversation.

As soon as the door shut behind her and Jane was sure her youngest sister was out of hearing distance, her eyes flew open and she appeared more alert than she had been all day.

“Tell me, Lizzie, what has passed between Kitty and Lydia? I could hardly bear the weight of the tension between them.”

Elizabeth sighed and set aside the quilt. “It was an argument they had last night.” She described the dispute to her older sister. When she had finished, Jane appeared to have become wearier.

“I suppose it was a price and a result that we overlooked,” she said pensively. “Has Kitty come to you?”

Elizabeth shook her head. “No, but she will when she is ready. Or perhaps she wants to speak with Georgiana. Kitty looks up to her.” Evelyn stirred and awoke. Her small whimpering rose to screams, as her small arms and fists flailed about. Elizabeth hurried to the baby's cradle and picked Evelyn up, rocking her gently.

“I have observed that,” agreed Jane, taking Evelyn from Elizabeth. She smiled. “Perhaps Lydia will see how Kitty has changed and attempt to do so as well.”

Elizabeth looked at the slight hope in her older sister's face and did not have the heart to tell her that it was more than likely not so. Praying that she was wrong, Elizabeth donned a slight smile of her own.

“Perhaps.”

After Evelyn had been fed, Elizabeth took the baby from Jane and walked her about the room, patting her back.

Jane smiled. “Kitty has grown so much in your care, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth turned from the window where she stood. “I have tried to do my best by her.”

“As I know you shall with Evelyn.”

“Why of course,” agreed Elizabeth, smiling as the baby emitted a small belch. Elizabeth lifted Evelyn from her shoulder, cradling her as she resumed her seat beside Jane's bed. Jane watched as her sister carefully readjusted the baby's blanket.

“That is why Charles and I ask that you and Darcy be her guardians,” said Jane.

Elizabeth blinked and wet her lips. “Jane, I would be honored but I-I-,”

“Must speak with Darcy. Of course, it is only natural.” Jane leaned over and rested her hand over Elizabeth's. “Charles and I will understand and support any decision that you shall make.” She glanced down. “I shall understand if you should wish not to.”

“Whyever not?” asked Elizabeth, surprised.

“Lizzie, I know how much you would like a child of your own. I do not wish to cause you pain.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I appreciate your concern, dear, but Darcy and I have hardly been married a year and I am yet young. There is plenty of time.”

Jane squeezed Elizabeth's hand. “Of course, dear.”

They admired Evelyn for a short while before Jane drifted off to sleep. Elizabeth quietly rose and carried the baby from the room, that she should not wake Jane should she begin to fuss.

Elizabeth walked through the halls of Blithebury with her niece, enjoying the time she spent simply talking to someone who could not respond, only stare back. She came to an art gallery and walked about, examining the different pieces of art on display. She heard footsteps behind her and turned, expecting to see Darcy. Instead she saw Wickham enter behind her.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wickham,” she said, clutching Evelyn to her.

“Good afternoon, Lizzie,” he replied, sweeping an elegant bow.

“My name is Elizabeth,” she responded.

“My wife refers to you as Lizzie,” he said cordially, strolling toward a painting.

“She is my sister.”

“I am your brother-in-law.” He glanced toward her. “But I apologize if I have exceeded my boundaries. What may I call you then?”

“You may call me Mrs. Darcy,” said Elizabeth. She saw his lips curl into a well disguised sneer.

“So formal? Or do you simply wish to remind me that you are married to him?” Wickham clasped his hands behind him.

“His name is Darcy, or perhaps it should be Mr. Darcy to you,” Elizabeth said coolly.

Wickham cocked his head. “Motherhood will suit you well,” he said.

She was taken aback by the sudden compliment. For a moment she stared back at him, wide-eyed. “Thank you,” she stammered finally.

“You are quite welcome-Mrs Darcy. I suppose Jane and Bingley have asked you to be her guardian?” He nodded toward Evelyn.

“Yes,” replied Elizabeth.

“They're going to ask Darcy as well, are they not?” he continued.

“Yes.”

“Lydia dearly wanted to be Evelyn's guardian.”

“Then perhaps she should display some more maturity.”

Wickham scowled, but Elizabeth was surprised when he replied, “Perhaps that is so.”

It became quiet and Elizabeth looked down at Evelyn whose blue eyes were locked on her, as if she awaited Elizabeth's response. Elizabeth smiled at the baby and rocked her.

“I thought that you were outdoors with Charles and Darcy?” she asked eventually. There was no reason why she should not behave civilly.

“The weather did not agree with me so I returned. Lydia and Kitty went for separate walks and I believe that Jane is asleep, leaving you as the only person's company I could seek.”

“Oh.”

“You are not the Elizabeth I first met, so animated and filled with intelligent conversation.”

“As you are not the Wickham I first met, with so much honesty and dignity.” Wickham flinched and Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. “I believe it would be best if we left our characters out of this discussion,” she said levelly.

“That would be quite difficult as a person's character is always present in a conversation. The very discussion of two people is based upon their character.”

“Then I suppose we have nothing to discuss, as we are spun from two very different fibers,” returned Elizabeth.

Wickham gave her a small smile before he walked past her to a portrait of Charles and Jane.

“They will be having a new one done soon, I suspect,” he commented. “To add their little one. I wonder if they shall hire the same artist that did this one. Whoever it was did a wonderful job of capturing the sweetness and compassion of Jane's nature and Bingley's good humor.”

Elizabeth turned to view the portrait of which he spoke, shifting Evelyn's weight to her other arm. Wickham was right, the artist had done an astounding job. She moved closer.

“He did do a fine impression of them,” she agreed.

Wickham glanced to the portrait next to the one which they examined. Elizabeth followed his gaze. The portrait was one of two that had been done; the other hung in the gallery at Pemberley. It was of Elizabeth and Jane, shortly before Jane's marriage. Jane sat elegantly upon a stool, her rose tinted skirts spilling in waves of fabric about her. Her hair had been put up in a simply hairdo, leaving elegant tendrils to curl about her face. Elizabeth sat upon the floor, her palm upon Jane's lap and her head placed lightly upon her palm. Her blue tinted skirts flowed into Jane's. Elizabeth's hair was done in a similar style to that of Jane, but a curl of hair fell over her shoulder, interrupting the milkiness of her complexion.

“I daresay that it must have been done the same painter,” said Wickham. “He did an equally fine job of conveying the keenness of your eyes, and the air of wit and vitality that surrounds you. Unfortunately, once more, the portrait can only portray but a well dressed shadow of your true beauty. ”

Elizabeth found cheeks warming. “I thank you for such a kind compliment,” she said.

“You are quite welcome.”

Silence lapsed between them once more and Elizabeth found herself thinking that it was such a shame that such a charming man had such a terrible character. At times such as this, she almost pitied him for his marriage to Lydia.

“Lizzie?” She turned, this time to find Darcy in the doorway. He stiffened as he caught sight of the man who stood beside her.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wickham,” he said stiffly, his face carefully blank.

“Good afternoon, Darcy,” returned Wickham. “ I was just telling Lizzie how beautiful she was in this portrait.”

Both Wickham and Elizabeth had observed the twitch in his lips when Wickham had referred to her as Lizzie. Elizabeth was disgusted. Wickham was doing his best to annoy her husband for no other reason than to prove to himself that he was not intimidated by Darcy.

“I asked that you call me Mrs. Darcy,” Elizabeth said softly.

“I apologize, Mrs. Darcy,” he said to her, though his gaze did not leave Darcy's.

The baby awoke from the daze she had drifted off into and began to cry. Elizabeth looked from Darcy to Wickham, not wanting to leave them alone. She bounced Evelyn gently, but the baby's cries only grew louder.

Evelyn left her no choice but to excuse herself.

When Elizabeth reached Jane's room, it was to find Mrs. Gardiner and a woman, who appeared to be slightly older than Charlotte, standing beside the bed.

“Lizzie, this is Ms. Ava Wells, Evelyn's nurse,” said her aunt.

“I did not mean to bring your charge to you immediately after your arrival,” said Elizabeth. “If you wish I will take care of her while you settle. I believe `tis only a wet cloth that has upset her.”

Ms. Wells shook her head and crossed to Elizabeth. “I do not mind taking care of her now. I apologize for such a late arrival.” Elizabeth handed the baby over to the woman and immediately excused herself from the room, much to the surprise of Jane and Mrs. Gardiner.

She hurried back towards the gallery and nearly collided with Darcy in her rush. He smiled slightly upon seeing her, though he appeared slightly distracted.

“My dear, it really is not wise to walk so quickly without paying attention to where you are going?”

“Where is Wickham?”

“He left quite shortly after you. I daresay he did not find my company as pleasing as yours.”

Elizabeth wondered just how unpleasing Wickham had found her husband's company but Darcy's expression told her clearly that that conversation had been closed.

“Evelyn's nurse has arrived,” Elizabeth said, turning to walk in the same direction as Darcy.

“It will be a relief to Jane and Mrs. Gardiner,” observed Darcy.

Elizabeth nodded. “Indeed.”

He glanced at her. “Lizzie, there is something we must discuss but I believe it would be best to do so in our room.”

“Of course,” replied Elizabeth.

One of the maids had opened the windows of their bedroom. A cool breeze filtered in, making the curtains billow with each of its exhales and drawing them back to the window as it inhaled once more.

Darcy shut the door behind them and turned to face Elizabeth, pausing before he spoke. “Earlier today, Charles requested that we become Evelyn's guardians. While I would be honored to accept such a role in her life, I thought it best that we discuss it first, as it involves a decision on your part.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Jane asked me, of course I would be honored to assume such a position. But why did you seem so concerned about asking me?”

Darcy walked over to a window and crossed his arms as he looked out. Elizabeth stood still, troubled yet intrigued by his actions.

“I was not sure how you would receive the news,” he said finally. “How do you feel about us becoming Evelyn's guardians?”

Elizabeth's concern grew deeper. “Darcy, I told you that I would be honored. She's my first niece, the daughter of my dearest sister and your dearest friend.”

“Is that all you feel, Lizzie? Truly?”

“Darcy, what is it?” she demanded, crossing the room to lay a hand upon his shoulder.

“I was worried that you might feel hurt at my acceptance,” he said haltingly.

“Why?”

He turned to face her. “I thought that you might believe that by becoming Evelyn's guardian, I was attempting to fill the place of our own child.”

Elizabeth leaned her head against his shoulder, gently rubbing his arm as his arms slid about her slight waist.

“Darcy, as I told Jane earlier, I am yet young. Who is to say that we will not have a child by this time next year? But for now, we must celebrate the birth of Jane and Charles' baby, Evelyn.”

“Then we shall give Jane and Charles our acceptance with only joy?”

Elizabeth laughed. “Yes, with only joy, my dear.”

That evening Elizabeth told Jane that she and Darcy planned to leave for Pemberley in two days' time.

“Must you really go?” sighed Jane.

“Georgiana is still recovering and she has been alone for a few days.”

Jane smiled. “I suppose I am only being selfish. Of course you must return home. You were away for quite some time, returning only to care for Georgiana. I assume Kitty will be leaving with you?”

Elizabeth hesitated. “She asked me to remain to be with you, but I believe it would be best if she returned with us.”

Her older sister nodded. “I understand, dear. I shall miss her. She has changed so much.”

“Indeed she has. I am quite impressed.”

“She misses Georgiana, does she not?” asked Jane softly.

Elizabeth sighed heavily. “I believe she does. She needs someone to talk to, but I believe she is waiting until we return to Pemberley to speak to either Georgiana or perhaps me.”

“Be patient with her, Lizzie.”

“I know. If there is one thing Kitty has taught me though, it has been patience.”

Jane smiled playfully. “Perhaps it was good for you.”

Elizabeth smiled back. “I did not say it wasn't.” She looked to the clock. “Charles shall be up to see you soon. I think I should take my leave now.”

“Good night, Lizzie.”

“Good night, Jane.”

Charles carried Jane downstair on the day that Elizabeth, Darcy, and Kitty departed. Wickham stood stiffly behind his wife as she bade Elizabeth and Darcy farewell. When she came to Kitty, she pursed her lips and stepped back, offering no farewell.

Kitty bit her lip. “Goodbye, Lydia,” she said tentatively.

Lydia did not respond and Kitty's face crumpled. Darcy scowled but said nothing as Kitty moved on to bid Charles, Caroline, Jane, and Wickham goodbye. She tried once more to say goodbye to Lydia, but her sister refused to speak to her.

Elizabeth said her farewells and let Darcy help her into the waiting coach after Kitty. She looked back as they trundled off and waved to Jane until her sister disappeared around the bend. When she turned, she saw tears running freely down Kitty's cheeks and plopping unheaded onto her front. An involuntary whimper escaped her sister as she attempted to hold back a sob. Darcy politely looked away, as Elizabeth moved across the coach to comfort her sister.

Elizabeth grasped Darcy's hand as he helped her from the carriage. A light drizzle had begun and grey clouds crowded above Pemberley, but to Elizabeth, no place had ever appeared more cheerful. The large front door opened before Kitty had descended from the carriage and Georgiana hurried out, immediately followed by Mrs. Reynolds.

“Darcy, Lizzie, Kitty, you've returned!” cried Georgiana as she wrapped her arms about Darcy.

“Georgiana Darcy, whatever do you mean, running out in the rain? You are not well yet, and Mr. and Mrs. Darcy and Miss Bennet surely do not want to get wet as they exchange greetings!” scolded Mrs. Reynolds as she draped a shawl about Georgiana's shoulders.

“We shall have her inside in a moment,” said Darcy, as he wrapped his arm about Georgiana and guided her into the house. Kitty followed closely behind, her head bowed against the rain. Mrs. Reynolds hurried after them, clucking after Georgiana.

Elizabeth watched as the carriage moved away towards the stables before she turned and stared out over the grounds of her home. Even in the mist and wetness it was beautiful. A few trees had begun to bud and what little she could see through the fog was green and lush. She had not realized how much she had missed Pemberley. She was impatient to walk its familiar paths and see which flowers had budded and which had yet to reveal themselves. Elizabeth sighed as an unacknowledged weight rose from her shoulders. She could not remember when it had settled there, but it was gone now, leaving her free to breathe deeply and sigh with contentment.

“You do not want to catch your death of cold,” Darcy said. Elizabeth started, unaware that he had been standing beside her.

“It's so serene, so removed from the cares that weigh down the rest of the world,” she murmured.

“I believe that was what my family sought to accomplish when they built it. Come, Lizzie. I cannot have you falling ill so shortly after Georgiana has recovered.”

Gently, he took her elbow and guided her into their home, closing the door behind them.

Kitty and Georgiana had disappeared from the foyer, along with Mrs. Reynolds. Weariness had been creeping over her since she had climbed into the carriage at Blithebury and now she felt it fall about her. She leaned against Darcy.

“I am so tired,” she sighed.

Darcy wrapped an arm about her shoulders. “It is no wonder; you have had little rest lately.”

Elizabeth nodded and gasped slightly as he swept her feet out from under her, cradling her against him. She smiled and rested her head against his shoulder as he started to the stairs. Her eyes drifted shut as his even steps carried them up the stairs. She felt herself drift off, even before he had reached the top.

Elizabeth awoke in the darkness. Carefully she extracted herself from Darcy's hold and climbed from the bed. She found that someone had considerately removed her shoes and clothing and somehow gotten her into her nightgown. She crept across the floor of their room, careful not to collide with any of the furniture and made her way to the door and slipped from the room.

She began down the corridor as her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness. She remained in the center of the hallway to avoid colliding into the side tables within it. Finally she reached the top of the stairs and grasping the banister, she made her way down them. Her bare feet tingled as they met the cold, marble of the steps.

Eventually Elizabeth found herself at the kitchen. She was startled to see a dim light coming from the room. She pushed the door open to find Kitty, fully clothed, seated at the scrubbed table that rested in the corner, sipping a cup of tea.

“Lizzie! Whyever are you awake at this hour?” she exclaimed upon seeing her older sister.

“That was the question with which I was going to address you,” replied Elizabeth.

Kitty rose. “Sit down while I make you a cup of tea.” She rose and began to bustle about. Elizabeth sat at the table as Kitty had instructed, and watch as her sister went about the preparations of the tea. She was reminded of the many nights she and Jane had done the same at Longbourn.

“To reply to your question, Kitty, I only just awoke and had no desire to go back to sleep,” said Elizabeth. “Was it the same for you?”

Kitty shook her head. “I never could go to sleep. I was—I was—I was simply not tired.”

“Indeed,” replied Elizabeth, though her voice contained a hint of skepticism over Kitty's explanation.

“You are not curious as to why I was crying in the carriage earlier?”

“It was always you and not I who enjoyed being fully aware of others' affairs.”

Kitty chuckled. “You will make a wonderful mother, Lizzie. You always seem to know exactly what has happened, what to say, and how to make everything better. I am sure you are well aware of what occurred between Lydia and me.”

Elizabeth made no reply.

“You overheard, did you not? At least a—a part of our—our argument.”

“Kitty, I—,” began Elizabeth.

“Good, then I shall not have to explain it to you.”

A silence fell between them and Kitty finished making Elizabeth's tea. She placed it before Elizabeth and turned to leave.

“Good night, Lizzie.”

“I thought—,”

“There is nothing more to discuss,” said Kitty softly and she disappeared through the door. Elizabeth heard her footsteps grow fainter and then disappear. She felt the urge to go after her sister, but a part of her held her to her seat. It was not time for Kitty to discuss what had happened. Perhaps there would never be a time for Kitty to discuss what had occurred in between herself and Lydia. Elizabeth knew that the love and closeness that had existed between her two sisters had diminished. They would love one another, for they remained sisters. But the love that now existed between them was the commonality of once having been inseparable, the memory of once having thought that they would never be parted from one another.

Elizabeth sighed and took a sip of her tea before setting down her cup and burying her head in her arms upon the table as a wave of guilt rushed over her. She was partially responsible for wrenching her two youngest sisters apart.

“Mrs. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth's eyes blinked open and she jolted up, disoriented by her surroundings. She realized that she was in the kitchen. The candle that Kitty had lit had burned itself out and the wax had spilled over the holder and pooled onto the table.

Mrs. Reynolds helped Elizabeth to stand.

“Did you and Mr. Darcy have an argument?” asked Mrs. Reynolds. “It was very ungentlemanly of him to make you sleep in the kitchen.”

In her lethargy, Elizabeth was startled by the forwardness of the housekeeper's question. It took her a few moments to realize that the woman was only jesting.

“It was not quite as bad as the time he made me sleep on the roof,” she said.

Mrs. Reynolds laughed.

“I believe I shall slip up to my room before everyone is awake. I have no desire to be seen in my nightclothes.”

“You best hurry.”

Elizabeth smiled and left the kitchen. Returning to her bedroom, she was pleasantly surprised to find that Mrs. Reynolds had prepared a bath for her. After she had bathed, Elizabeth dressed and found Darcy to still be asleep.

It was her every intention to slip back out past him, yet his countenance drew her to his side. The serenity that had spread across his features, the slight downturn of his lips, the way his hair curled over his forehead entranced her. Elizabeth's lips turned upward as a reflection of Darcy's peacefulness spread over her own face. He stirred and she backed away quickly. His eyes opened and their eyes met.

“Lizzie,” he breathed, a broad smile spreading across his face.

Elizabeth felt heat rise to her face. “Darcy, I was just on my way out. I believe Kitty will not be joining us for breakfast and Georgiana is to remain in her room. I suppose that leaves only us. So there is no need for you to hurry.”

Darcy chuckled as Elizabeth hurried from the room.

She was seated at the dining table when he entered the dining chamber, fully dressed.

“Good morning, Lizzie. You fled our bedchamber rather abruptly earlier; I did not have a chance to greet you.”

“Good morning, Darcy,” replied Elizabeth as he took his seat. He began to serve himself and Elizabeth followed suit.

“Mrs. Reynolds told me that you elected to sleep in the kitchen. Was my company not good enough for you, Mrs. Darcy?” His eyes twinkled in a playful way which Elizabeth had not seen in a long while. Just as she had not realized how much she had missed Pemberley, she had not realized how much she missed this Darcy.

“A man who snores as loud as you can hardly be considered good company,” replied Elizabeth.

“I do not snore.” Though his voice was light, there was a hint of indignation present in his tone.

Elizabeth chuckled. “No you don't, not usually at least.”

Darcy arched an eyebrow.

“Dearest, you snore when you are greatly fatigued.”

A mischievous smile appeared on his face as his eyes grew brighter. Elizabeth crimsoned at his implication.

“Mr. Darcy, I believe this is an inappropriate conversation to continue during our meal,” she said firmly. “You know exactly what I meant.”

He chuckled. “Have I mortified you, Elizabeth?”

“Fitzwilliam, if you do not cease, you will be dining alone.”

“Then I shall discontinue, for I would miss the presence of your beauty too greatly.”

Elizabeth attempted to prevent her smile, but it was in vain.

Mrs. Reynolds appeared in the archway and waited for Darcy or Elizabeth to acknowledge her. Darcy looked up and smiled at the woman.

“Yes?”

“Miss Georgiana would like to see Mrs. Darcy after breakfast,” said the woman as she curtsied.

“Does my own sister wish not to see me? My dear, Mrs. Reynolds, please excuse me while I go to speak with my sister.”

Mrs. Reynolds watched as Darcy left the room. “He is in a wonderful humor today,” she commented to Elizabeth.

“Indeed. Do you know what initiated it?”

The older woman looked baffled. “I thought that perhaps you might know better.”

As the final chill of winter was swept away by the warmth of spring, Elizabeth, Georgiana, and Kitty began to spend an increasing amount of time outdoors, enjoying the many paths of the garden. Elizabeth and Darcy also found the gardens to be a wonderful retreat and frequently strolled through them in the light of the fading day.

Within a month, Elizabeth and Darcy returned to Blithebury for Evelyn's christening with Kitty and Georgiana, who had fully regained her health. Elizabeth was dismayed to discover that not only were Lydia and Wickham still visiting, but the rest of her family had arrived. Her dismay was somewhat alleviated by the presence of her Aunt Mari and Uncle Gardiner and their children as well as Charlotte and William. William, remembering Elizabeth as the woman who had rescued him from the attic, attached himself to her.

“Why do we not bring out the cards,” suggested Charles as supper concluded one evening.

Mrs. Bennet clapped her hands. “Yes, yes of course. And Caroline may play for us! She does play exceptionally well, does she not, Mr. Bennet?”

Mr. Bennet examined the glass he held in his hand, pretending as if he had not heard his wife.

“Does he not?” Mrs. Bennet asked once more, slightly louder. “His hearing is not what it used to be,” she explained to the table.

Elizabeth, Jane, and Kitty blushed at their parents' behavior.

“Indeed, Mrs. Bennet. Exceptionally well.”

Charles rose. “Are you in for a game Darcy?”

“I must give my regrets but I had planned an excursion of the gardens.”

Charles grinned. “Very well, but I call you for a game of billiards tomorrow.”

Darcy returned his smile. “That is agreeable.” He rose and helped Elizabeth from her seat.

“Are you well?” he murmured as she stood. “You are pale.”

“I believe I rose too quickly. I'm feeling a bit lightheaded.” She stood still for a moment, attempting to shake her dizziness.

“Would you like to sit down again?”

“No, I—Oh!” She reached for the chair and missed as Darcy disappeared and she felt herself begin to fall and then she was aware no more.

Something cool and damp rested upon her forehead. Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes and was startled to see the ceiling above her. She attempted to sit up, but someone gently pushed her back down and she closed her eyes again.

“You fainted, Lizzie!” The voice belonged to Lydia

“She gave me quite a fright. Lizzie has never had fainting spells! Oh dear, my fan. Where did I place my fan? I feel as if I shall faint too!”

“Come Mother, you should sit down.” Mary was speaking, but her voice was growing fainter.

“Is she conscious?” Her father spoke.

“Yes.” Darcy. “Lizzie, Elizabeth?”

She opened her eyes. “Darcy? I—I don't know what happened.”

“Quiet. Everything is fine.” He smoothed her hair away from her face. “Come.”

Elizabeth felt herself being carefully lifted from the floor and carried from the room.

Darcy carried her up the stairs and to their guestroom. Somehow Elizabeth knew that Jane and Kitty followed him and when he set her on the bed, she saw Jane in the doorway.

“We'll take of her, Darcy.”

Darcy hesitated, unwilling to leave Elizabeth.

“I believe she needs some water,” added Kitty.

Darcy nodded and with one last glance at Elizabeth, he left, not attempting to argue that one of the servants could have easily provided water. Jane shut the door behind him and she and Kitty came to Elizabeth's sides, helping her to sit up.

“I told Martha she had tightened Lizzie's stays too tightly,” said Kitty as she and Jane began to undo Elizabeth's clothing.

“I don't believe it was that,” Elizabeth said softly. “I may just be tired.”

“Yes, in which case you must rest,” said Jane.

“My husband is fully capable of taking care of me,” said Elizabeth. “He—,” she had forgotten that Kitty remained in the room.

“—has been anxious about you all week. He needed some time alone,” said Jane. She glanced toward Kitty.

“There is no need for two of us to care for Lizzie. I shall be downstairs should you need me.” Kitty hurried from the chamber, leaving her two eldest sisters alone.

“Anxious about me all week. Whatever for?” asked Elizabeth.

“With Evelyn's christening, the strain of the past two months on you with Georgiana's illness and Evelyn's birth. He also knows what you are enduring with Kitty and Lydia.”

“So my husband talks to you more than he does me?” demanded Elizabeth.

“No, dear. He spoke to me and requested that Kitty and Georgiana remain with me. He wanted to be sure Charles and I were willing before he proposed the idea to you. He believes you require a respite and honestly, after this evening, I am convinced in his favor.”

Jane helped Elizabeth into a nightgown and set her clothing aside.

“Jane, you have Evelyn and Kitty is—,”

“Lizzie, we agreed on six months with Kitty each. It will be only a few weeks shorter.”

“I suppose, if you do not mind.”

Jane began to undo Elizabeth's hair. “Of course not.”

A knock came at the door.

“Lizzie?”

“Come in.”

Darcy entered, carrying a pitcher, which he set on a side table. He poured a cup of water and brought it to Elizabeth.

Jane smiled and excuse herself, claiming she had guests to attend downstairs. She carefully shut the door behind her.

“Are you feeling better?” Darcy asked gently as Elizabeth carefully sipped the water and returned the cup to him. He set it back on the side table and went to sit beside her on the bed, wrapping his arms about her.

“Jane told me of your proposal.”

She felt his chuckle rise and smiled as it came out, soft and comforting.

“I see secrets are never kept well between close sisters.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I suppose not.”

“Are you angry with me? For not discussing it with you first?”

She shook her head. “No.”

He stroked her hair gently and it was not long before she fell asleep against him.

After Elizabeth had three more fainting spells, Darcy deemed that it was time for them to return to Pemberley.

Elizabeth gazed out of the coach window as they trundled across the monotonous, though somehow enthralling, English countryside. Usually she delighted in either the occasional spotting of a town or an engaging conversation with Darcy, but this day she derived no pleasure from either. She felt her stomach jolt with each jerk of the coach and she remained silent, desiring only that her breakfast stay in its place. Darcy watched her, concern deepening lines in his forehead.

“Are you unwell, Lizzie?”

“I feel slightly queasy. Perhaps I am hungry; I hardly ate breakfast.”

Darcy nodded. “We shall stop for dinner. Mrs. Lane prepared a wonderful basket.” He signaled for the coach to stop and he helped Elizabeth out. Their coachman, Lon, took his meal a short distance away from the Darcys, out of their sight.

Elizabeth found a space in the grove of trees where they had stopped and spread out a cloth and unpacked the basket. She watched as Darcy ate, eating only a little herself. The food did nothing to stem her queasiness and in fact augmented it. When Darcy had finished, she began to wrap up what remained of their dinner. A rush of nausea passed through her stomach.

“I shall return shortly. I must relieve myself.” Elizabeth hurried away from their picnic and dropped before a bush as her stomach rejected all that she had just eaten.

“Lizzie?”

She heard Darcy approach behind her and felt her cheeks warm.

“Lizzie!”

Elizabeth stood and turned, careful to avoid her mess.

“May we just go home?” she asked without looking at him. For a moment he seemed startled and she thought he would protest but then he nodded and took her hand.

“I will get you some water to rinse your mouth out,” was all he said, for which she was thankful.

Elizabeth ate a light supper that evening and retired to bed early.

Mrs. Reynolds arrived with a cup of tea.

“Mr. Darcy told me you were unwell this afternoon due to the coach ride.”

Elizabeth nodded and accepted the tea gratefully. As she sipped it, Mrs. Reynolds bustled about the room, straightening pillows and brushing away invisible dust.

When Elizabeth had finished, the older woman took the cup and extinguished the lights. Elizabeth sighed and drifted off to sleep.

The episodes of illness extended to occasional headaches and eventually she was able to discern the cause. It was not until a short while later that anyone else became aware of her discovery.

Elizabeth was practicing a new song on the pianoforte as one of the servants dusted about the room. Darcy had departed for the day to take care of some business he had to attend to and she was enjoying her solitude. The windows were open to the breeze, but despite the air, Elizabeth could not help but feel the constriction of her corset. After a few moments of attempting to play the piece, to no avail she rose to ask Hannah, the servant girl, if she had replaced the water in the vase of flowers. The effort to speak was too great for Elizabeth as she tried to draw in breath. The last thing she heard was the shattering of glass and a scream.

“Mrs. Darcy, Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth slowly raised her eyelids. Her head pounded unpleasantly. Mrs. Reynolds knelt over her, applying a wet cloth to her forehead.

“Is everything fine?” Elizabeth asked, feeling slightly breathless.

Mrs. Reynolds smiled thinly. “You startled poor Hannah when you lost consciousness; that is all.”

Elizabeth sat up slowly, the effort leaving her breathless.

“Would you help me upstairs, please? I would hate for Darcy to see me like this.”

With Mrs. Reynolds and Hannah's assistance, Elizabeth was able to return to her room where she sank into a chair, endeavoring to regain her breath.

When Hannah had departed, Elizabeth buried her face in her hands.

“I suppose Darcy is correct; I should have seen the doctor when this sickness first began.”

Mrs. Reynolds pursed her lips, settling her arms across her bosom. “Indeed.”

Elizabeth cringed at the woman's tone. “Will you help me from this gown, please? It's so tight I wonder how I got it on.” She wearily pushed herself from the chair.

Mrs. Reynolds sighed and began to undo the gown and then Elizabeth's corset. Elizabeth sighed with relief and sank back into the chair in only her undergarments and loose corset.

The older woman frowned in disapproval and handed Elizabeth a light dressing gown. “It is not proper for a young woman to lounge about in her undergarments.”

Elizabeth blushed. “I suppose you are correct.” She stood to draw on the garment. When she glanced to Mrs. Reynolds, she was startled discern an expression of contemplation on the older woman's face.

“Elizabeth, are you in the family way?” she asked bluntly.

Elizabeth felt herself become frozen and her mouth drain of liquid. Silence spanned between them as Elizabeth sought to find the proper words.

“How long have you known, or guessed?” asked Mrs. Reynolds.

Elizabeth crimsoned, appalled at the other woman's abruptness.

“When I—I,” she swallowed and wet her lips, “when I missed my cycle. Then I began to realize what my illness was. I—I haven't told anyone, I didn't tell anyone, because I was afraid I was jumping to conclusions. I did not want to raise my hopes and least of all Darcy's.”

“What are you going to do now?”

Elizabeth sighed and went to the window, looking out over the gardens as she crossed her arms over her middle. “I think of a way to tell him.”

Mrs. Reynolds nodded and turned to leave but Elizabeth called her back. “Please don't give any hints or tell Mr. Darcy.”

The woman's lips quirked. “I won't, Mrs. Darcy.”

Elizabeth remained at the window long after Mrs. Reynolds had departed; planning a way of telling her husband that she was, at last, with child.

Elizabeth carefully set her napkin beside her supper plate. At long last she was able to maintain a substantial meal. She had felt Darcy's eyes on her throughout the entire meal. She turned to him and was taken aback to see how solemn his expression appeared.

“Shall we retire for the evening?” he asked.

“It is early still,” ventured Elizabeth.

“You've been looking tired lately,” he replied.

Elizabeth sighed. “I suppose we should.” She smiled at him. “You need not retire with me though.”

Darcy smiled tightly. “I've missed you lately.”

She was taken aback. “Missed me? But I'm here.”

He did nothing but offer her his hand. She rose and they proceeded to their bedroom in a strange, contemplative silence.

Darcy shut the door behind them, turning the key in the lock. He turned to look at her, his eyes tired and hurt.

“What's wrong Lizzie? Why will you not speak to me?”

Elizabeth sighed. “Wait outside on the balcony for me, please.”

Darcy arched an eyebrow but did not protest her response. She waited until he was outside before she undressed with some difficulty. Finally, she pulled on a nightgown and a dressing robe and joined him outside.

“We have been distant from one another lately, haven't we?” she asked.

He nodded. In the illumination from the room, she could see that his knuckles were white where he gripped the railing.

She sighed and leaned against him, though he attempted no action to enfold her within his arms.

“I tried to wait until the same date that I first came to Pemberley, when I first felt a connection to you. The time when this very view of the water reminded exactly of the owner of this property, honest with no pretenses, and yet so full swollen, as you had been so swollen with pride. The day I came to Pemberley was the day I began to realize the truth—that I was falling in love with you.”

He looked down at her and she sighed and took his hand and placed it over her middle. “I wanted to wait because on that day, you would have discovered, just as I had two years previously, a growing connection between us—one that will eventually bring us even closer together.”

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy as she felt his hand quiver on her middle and she could not help but smile at his expression of disbelief.

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye. “It seems as if I waited forever to tell you this Darcy, but I wanted to be sure, just as you wanted to be sure when you waited to propose to me the second time. I wanted to be certain that I could truly tell you that I am forever committed to you and that I am with child.”

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