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Chapter 59

Posted on Tuesday, 23 December 2003

Her request was more than he had hoped and he obliged her immediately before leading her to the couch by the fire. Gently settling her first, he then sat beside her encasing her with his right arm. With his left he took her hand and looked in her eyes.

'There is no rush,' he said, speaking words, which he was fighting hard to obey. Gently running his hand over her hair, he continued, 'Your hair is so...'

'So?'

'I was going to say long but then it is no longer than I suspected.'

She looked down demurely and he kissed her temple, bringing her gaze back to him. They began to kiss tenderly in short wisps of breath and lips. Each break was replaced with their hands and fingers, touching, caressing and holding the parts of each other forbidden until now. As her hair ribbon began to slip, he eased it on its way and twirled it through his fingers.

'I have wanted a ribbon of yours for such a long time.'

'I would gladly have given you one,' she replied, once again kissing him.

Wrapping his hand behind her head, he pulled her even closer and returned the kiss.

'I think we should ... '

She looked up at him. 'Yes,' was her whisper.

He stood so much taller than her even without his boots and she felt vulnerable next to him. He bent his arm and took her hand, leading her to the door. Taking a deep breath she took the step across his threshold and followed him though his sitting room to the bedchamber. The pillows were puffed and leaning slightly up against the bed head. The covers were turned down, revealing the dull gold satin braid that matched the top quilt. The burgundy bed curtains seemed to have been arranged with meticulous care, each fold exact.

As they approached the bed, she hesitated slightly, not knowing which side he preferred. However he led her with him to the right side where they stood facing each other.

'May I help you with your robe?' he asked tentatively, placing his hands on her shoulders ready to remove it.

She pulled the front tie and he slipped it from her, placing it carefully on the chair nearest the bed. As he turned back, the sight of her clad only in her nightdress caused him to sigh loudly. Flushing slightly, she looked down at herself and then back to him. He said nothing but turned the bedding down a little more and helped her up onto the bed. She climbed up, perching herself against the pillows and sliding her legs quickly under the covers. He walked around the bed and stood, removing his own robe and placing it just as neatly on the chair near the left side of the bed. His nightshirt was pure white linen, hanging loosely over his body almost to his toes. As she looked at him, he passed in front of the candles revealing a silhouette that caused her to blush profusely and turn away.

She was still looking at her toes under the covers when she felt him climb in beside her. The mattressing dipped slightly with his weight causing her to correct her balance by placing her hand near him. He ran his fingers over it before wrapping his arm around her as they sat side by side. She leaned into him and they kissed again, this time both slipping down the bed and resting their heads on the pillows.

For Mr. Darcy, this moment was the culmination of a tormented year. He had no time to consider the unfamiliarity of having her in his bed, as he held her to him. Elizabeth, on the other hand, found the experience quite overwhelming. As their legs intertwined she could feel the coarseness of him, as the dark hair of his rubbed against her calves. She was surrounded by sensations and filled with feelings that were new to her and although she wished to remember every moment of this, she knew that most of it would be lost in the breathtaking sensation of being loved by him.

Mr. Darcy had now reached that moment when reality had disappeared and the yearnings of his body in response to hers must overcome everything else. He could not touch her enough, kiss her enough, all the while fighting to remain the patient lover. She seemed to be wishing and willing for him to continue, and continue he must but a man in such a state finds it difficult to communicate all that he is feeling even as all previous experience is lost in the mire of his brain. He was sure that he would never return to normal.

Elizabeth's awareness of her body and his was much more profound and sensible and she endeavoured through it all to remember each touch. His words were few but brimming with more passion than she had ever heard from him. His initial phrases were what she had expected but as their loving continued, he whispered things that would only ever be hers.

And as the time came, she became intensely aware of herself, bringing her mind back to the reality of being a first time lover. She tensed herself for the moment of their union and for a second or two felt it would never happen. But it did, and very quickly she felt the rightness of it all. In fact she had never felt that perfect in her life.

During this his only thought was the exultation of taking her, not as man takes a woman but as a lover giving himself to the other in the abandon of true love. His final moments were not the brief seconds of the past but prolonged and exhausting and she was amazed at the state of him during it all. She had no sense of service but rather of the power of their love for each other, for truly it could not be this way for all.

The moments after, as he lay beside her, turned quickly into reality for them both as the demands of lovemaking took over. Acutely conscious of herself, Elizabeth lay quietly not wishing to move. Sensing her discomfort, he reached for a linen placed discreetly under the pillow. Offering it to her caused her to blush profusely and attempting to move as little as possible she used it to clean herself. As she finished he reached over to stroke her cheek.

'I love you, Elizabeth.'

She smiled a little, content beyond words but vaguely anxious for the moment again, knowing that this time she would be already his. He snuggled close to her, running his hands over her like fragile porcelain, knowing that the moment had been only his, but also knowing it had to be that way, this first time.

The tangles and twists of their nightclothes were quickly corrected by both and they lay in the aftermath of their feelings. As the moments ticked by, he became more conscious of her silence.

'Elizabeth?'

'Hmmm.'

'Did I ... you are very quiet.'

'I cannot think of what to say. I do love you so very much.'

'That will do to begin,' he said with a smile. 'Our love will be great indeed.'

'I think it is already,' she answered.

'Perhaps I should have said that our lovemaking will be great indeed.'

'Yes. I have never...'

'Of course you have never.'

'I meant that it was not like ... it was...'

'Elizabeth, please tell me.'

'At first I thought I would hurt you.'

'You hurt me? That could not be so.'

'But it seemed so ... difficult.'

'Not difficult, perhaps magnificent is a better word,' he said smiling. 'It merely makes the result more treasured. You are quite the most exquisite creature, my darling,' he murmured.

'I feel...warm and...your touch was so gentle. I expected it to be...'

'What did you expect?'

'The books say that it is quite...'

'Quite what?'

'All movements and ... moving.'

'And you found it more?'

'Oh yes. When ... when it ... when it happened, I thought only of how much I love you.'

'I am glad for I was afraid at that moment that you would think me fierce.'

'I have long ago learned that you only appear that way when you wish to ward off strangers and I am no stranger.'

'Indeed you are truly my wife.'

They lay together, their hands joined, and quite soon Elizabeth heard his breathing change and she knew that he slept. A strange and unfamiliar contentment crept through her as she listened to his sounds. His fingers slipped from hers and he rolled towards her, already at ease with having her beside him. She rolled away herself and he moved behind her, grasping at her in his dream.

It was some three hours later when Mr. Darcy woke, suddenly feeling the cold of having his bed alone again. He struck the candle alight and sought to find her, hoping she had not chosen to return to her own bed so soon. It was only midnight on his watch and he was about to go in search of her when he saw her silhouette in the door from his sitting room.

'Elizabeth, are you well?'

'Oh yes. I just woke and ... I wished to ... I thought it best to change my nightdress.'

'Oh, are you very ... can I assist you?'

'I have found everything I want. It seems your servants are well practised in supplying everything we need.'

'Not well practised, my love, well instructed. Come, be with me.'

She smiled and came to him, climbing onto the bed and curling in his arms. With such a new intimacy it was impossible to remain still. This time the tenseness was gone, along with the obvious concern of them both. Mr. Darcy now touched her as a husband and she, in turn, felt the comfort of being his true wife. The removal of the physical barrier of their love had taken with it the emotional barrier and they simply enjoyed each moment, no longer feeling the need for evaluation. It was a mere ten minutes before Mr. Darcy looked expectantly at her and saw only desire in her eyes. She accepted him with a passion she had not felt the previous time and he willingly joined her for the first time in a wonderful and glorious connection.

The pleasure he gained from their mutual gratification was a surprise to him, his previous experiences lacking the sheer bliss of united love. Now he too was left with the feeling of a first time lover, experiencing emotions that he could never have imagined. He looked closely at her as she lay with him, her eyes revealing a fierceness he had never seen in her. She was breathing heavily and holding onto to him tightly.

'My darling?' he asked.

'Hmmm.'

'I ... Will you think me silly for saying I love you, again?' he asked.

'Oh never.'

'Are you ... are you well?'

'Oh Fitzwilliam. I have never felt so ... I have never felt so much in my life. I am afraid to break this ... mood between us.' She lay back contemplating the extraordinary feeling of her ultimate femininity. She could never have imagined that her body could react like that.

'Then perhaps we shall not. I will always love you as I do today and you will always love me in exactly the same way as you do today.'

'Mr. Darcy, I think you are right.'

'I am sure that is the first time you have ever told me I am right.'

'Oh, I am sure I have ... perhaps not. I am sure you think you are right quite enough without me telling you,' she said, smiling at him and kissing the tip of his nose.

'Oooh.'

'I am sorry. I did not mean....' She withdrew from him a little resulting in him moving across the bed with her.

'Why do you move away?'

'I thought perhaps that you did not like me ... I can be silly.'

'In the very best of ways. I liked you kissing my nose.'

'I liked kissing it. It is very regal.'

'Are you saying it is large?'

'No, regal does not necessarily denote size. Although ... perhaps...' she gave him her most challenging and impish smile, resulting in him reaching over to squeeze her nose. Retaliation was necessary from this point on and Mr. Darcy found himself the object of a tickling session for the first time since his childhood and even then he was sure it had only happened once or twice. Elizabeth seemed to have no boundaries in her attack and very quickly he found it necessary to wriggle away from her to the far side of the bed.

'I see you are conceding, sir.'

'I am not. I ... I am tired,' he said, smiling to himself at the way she could make him feel simply by her touch.

Not seeing his smile, she felt the awkwardness of her behaviour. Surely a wife so new should not behave that way.

'I think I am too. We have had little sleep this night,' was her reply.

'It is not a night for rest, Elizabeth,' said Mr. Darcy quite seriously.

There was no reply from Elizabeth. Instead they both lay there, hands clasped, looking up and thinking in the dreamy haze before sleep. Their world was perfect in both their eyes.

The strangeness of the bed, the light and the company had Elizabeth awake at dawn. Her eyes opened suddenly and it was some seconds before the reality of her life became clear. She looked across at Mr. Darcy who was laying face down, his head buried in a down pillow. His arms were raised above his head, his hands tucked under the pillow.

She snuck from the bed and crept quietly through to her dressing room, carrying out her morning necessities. Glancing in her mirror before she left, she saw the same face, the same body but in her eyes was a new pride even perhaps smugness that she had not seen or felt before. She simply wanted to tell people and thinking on that, she realised that everyone knew. She was his wife. She was Mrs. Darcy and the very fact of that was an announcement to the world that they had made love.

She ran her brush through her hair, smoothing the crown with her hand, then beginning to shiver, she went back to his room where he had not moved. She climbed back on the bed and snuggled under the covers, rubbing his arm in affection as she did. He stirred but did not wake and she lay there watching the morning twilight creep through the room. It was time to look at her surroundings and smile at the wonderful turn her life had taken. There was time for excitement at the new things that were hers and for the years stretching ahead in comfort and refinement. Although never in poverty or even very poor, the Bennet household had always had the topic of money on their minds. Now that was over and she could not help but smile at the fortune she had in falling in love with a man who loved her and was also able to provide for her.

Her mind drifted to Jane who would be waking to a similar world. She so longed to speak with her but that must wait for the exchange of letters. Naturally the union of Lydia and Mr. Wickham also came to mind and Elizabeth sighed at the impossibility of happiness when one marries in such a way. She looked back at her husband who had rolled onto his back, his arms still stretched above him. His head was tilted to one side away from her and she could see the shadow of his lashes and the contour of his mouth. He was gloriously handsome and he loved her. Her smile was pure contentment.

In fact, Mr. Darcy slept soundly for almost six hours, dreaming of things gentlemen dream of, stirring at last around seven o'clock to find Elizabeth snuggled down beneath the covers with only her eyes peeping out.

Reaching for her hand, he murmured, 'You are awake.'

'Yes, I have been studying the room.'

'The room. I thought you would be thinking of much greater subjects.'

She laughed. 'Such as you?'

'I do believe you think me very proud.'

'But under good regulation, always,' she retorted.

'Come to me,' he said, pulling her close. She lay within his arm as he placed small kisses in her hair. 'Are you happy?'

'I cannot ... oh so very happy. I wish there was a better word than happy. I am content.'

'I am still amazed that you would have me. As I woke, my first thought was that I had imagined yesterday.'

'Fitzwilliam, I do not believe you. Yesterday could never be imagined.'

'Was it all you had dreamed of?'

'Absolutely! To have my family there ... and yours. It was perfect.'

'This is perfect,' he said, kissing her once again. 'This life of ours.'

'I love you,' she responded.

They both looked toward the door to his dressing room as they heard the sound of footsteps in the hall. Elizabeth blushed and pulled up the covers.

'They will not enter,' he said.

'Perhaps we should rise.'

'At our leisure, madam. This time is ours. I will not be regulated by the household ... .Of course, if you wish for coffee, tea, fruit. Whatever you wish Elizabeth.'

'I am sure that a husband would not always offer anything to his wife.'

'Not all husbands. However yours is willing to provide anything. Tell me your greatest desire. One that you have had since childhood.'

'Oh ... I wished for a doll just like Jane's.'

'It shall be yours.'

'And a ... large whist table so that we can have whist parties every night ... '

'I abhor whist!'

'I was sure that you once said you loved it.'

'Hmmmph, I wish for a wife who does not tease her husband.'

'Then you had better get another wife, sir, for the one you have finds it quite delightful.'

'Troublesome girl,' was all he could say before taking her in his arms again. His kiss was passionate and quite quickly he wished to renew the habits of their first night together but it was all so new and he thought it better to wait. He would not press her for more than she wished to give.

Elizabeth was disappointed when he ended the kiss and moved away a little. But she would not press him for more as she was sure that he must be extremely tired. Instead she leaned over and stroked his brow.

'Would you rather I left you to sleep?' she asked.

'I would wish you to sleep with me here every night, Elizabeth. What nonsense to have separate rooms.'

'At times there is a need, I am sure.'

'I would not wish to exclude you from my bed for any reason, my dear.'

Elizabeth flushed slightly at the hint of that part of herself that was so private. To share such things with a man, even a husband, was something that she had not thought of. She lay silent not knowing what to say next.

'I have embarrassed you,' he said at last.

She gave him a reluctant smile.

'I am sorry Elizabeth. I only wish for there to be no ... difficulty between us. I love you as a woman and my wife. Please forgive me.'

'There is no forgiveness necessary. I ... I had never thought of ... it is just all so new.'

'To both of us. I must learn to be gentle in my words and feelings.'

'Oh please do not ever change, Fitzwilliam.'

'Then if I am never to change, would you think me wrong to say I am hungry? I have always been an early riser and this ... this night has left me even more eager for food than usual.'

'I too am an early riser and I think I am hungry too. I cannot even remember having supper. Oh yes I had some fruit and you had cake. No wonder we are hungry. I will dress.'

She went to rise but he held her arm. 'There is no need to dress first. Let us enjoy this breakfast first and then we shall both dress. Here let me help you with your robe and slippers. I am sure that Geoffrey is hovering somewhere ready to instruct the kitchens that we are ready.'

He rose and helped her before pulling the bell and donning his own robe and slippers. He was barely ready when there was a knock from the dressing room.

'Enter.'

'Sir?'

The sight of another person seeing her in her husband's bedroom brought a flush to Elizabeth and she discreetly turned away.

'Mrs. Darcy and I will be down in ten minutes for breakfast. Have you any special dish you require, my dear?'

'No, thank you. Whatever is prepared will be adequate.'

'Tea and coffee, Geoffrey,' said Mr. Darcy before his man left. 'So we begin a new day,' he said as he turned to Elizabeth.

'Yes. Perhaps I could look at your library.'

'Yes, Perhaps you can. But first we must eat and then dress. After that, you are in my care all day.'

'I hope I am in your care forever,' she replied as she walked through to his sitting room and on to her suite, leaving the doors wide open. He smiled at the back of her, happy with the ease she was showing.

Her girl was already in her dressing room and willing to brush Elizabeth's hair. However she chose to do it herself, instructing her maid to have water ready later for her bath. It took some time to determine what frock to wear as she was unsure of their movements after church. She chose a very pale pink, almost lilac, with her good brown boots as it was cold outside. She was finishing her instructions when she saw her maid bob in a short bow and looking to the door she saw Mr. Darcy watching her.

She smiled, quite overcome with the process of marriage. Not a day ago all this was impossible and now he was standing at her door in his robe, loving her as a husband.

'Are you ready, my dear?' he asked.

'I am.' She stood and offered her hand to him and together they left her rooms and descended to a small breakfast room on the southern side of the house quite near his library.

'I do not remember seeing this room on my visit.'

'I do not think we came in here. I find it best in winter. It catches the earliest of light and is easier to warm than the dining room.'

'It is lovely,' said Elizabeth, surveying the small square room with its round table no more than five feet across surrounded by six chairs with wrought iron legs curved to match the pedestal of the table. A stone fireplace completed the theme with a sideboard opposite. French doors leading to a secluded garden filled with herbs.

'Come, let me serve you,' he said.

'There will no such thing. I must do my wifely duty and serve you.' Taking a plate she began to move past the various dishes, including large chargers loaded with breads and pastries to silver dishes poised over small flames to warm the contents. Lifting the lids, she made her suggestions. 'You could begin with the kidneys, carefully sautéed in onion. Or there are coddled eggs with soft white bread for dipping. Oh and sliced ham which appears to be encrusted with cloves.'

'I will begin with fruit, my dear, which I will serve myself. Then you may bring me kidneys and ham but only if you allow me to pour your tea. Or would you prefer coffee?'

'I am sorry, Fitzwilliam, but it is impossible this day for you to do anything about this. I will have my way and serve my husband.' Her face beamed with the excitement of it all.

'Today only. I do not wish my wife to serve me. I have ample staff for that. But this morning I will indulge you.'

'Indulge, sir?'

'Yes. Today you may have your way.'

'And tomorrow I will not?'

'You twist my words.'

'I do not.'

'You do, my darling, and it is deliberate. Come bring the fruit and sit. I want you by me.'

She smiled and brought two servings of stewed pears while he poured coffee for them both.

'I much prefer to eat breakfast in peace without them hovering,' he said, leaning his head towards the nearby kitchens. Elizabeth said nothing but was aware of his different attitude to his staff. At Longbourn, where servants were few, they were accepted within the family much more. Here with so many, it was impossible to be so complacent.

'What time is church?' she asked eventually.

'I usually attend the ten o'clock service but we can go later if you wish.'

'No, I wish to be part of ... to do ... I wish to know all of your life. Ten o'clock will be perfect.'

He reached across and took her hand. 'I do not wish for you to pander to my wishes as every turn, my dear.'

'Mr. Darcy, my darling husband, you really do not expect me to believe you mean that. I am the girl who refused you.'

He smiled. 'And the lady who accepted me when I least deserved it.'

'It is I who did not deserve a second chance.'

'We shall both take the blame and laugh about it over the years. Now coffee or tea?'

'I will pour. Coffee?'

He smiled as he poured his coffee then hurried to prepare his serving of kidneys and ham. They talked of nothing in particular, with rather long silences as they both encompassed their new relationship. Breakfast was over in half an hour and he took her back to her rooms to bathe and dress.

'Would an hour be sufficient, my dear?'

'Oh yes, that is more than enough time to be ready. I am used to having four sisters to compete with at dressing time.'

He kissed the back of her hand and let her into her dressing room.

Three quarters of an hour later, he was dressed and impatient to be with her. Taking a stand for openness between them, he knocked on the adjoining door and heard her joyous call to him.

'I know I am early but ... you look beautiful.'

The maid blushed more than Elizabeth at his words and quickly finished the last curl and left without being told.

'I think she is afraid of you,' said Elizabeth.

'I think she is afraid of both of us, as we are. It is new to everyone and they have yet to establish what our pattern will be.'

'I think we have yet to establish our pattern,' replied Elizabeth.

He took her hand and escorted her down to the vestibule where the servant was waiting with their coats. When the door opened and she saw the carriage waiting, she felt a strange transition take place within her. The street had about five carriages waiting for their owners and she felt the turn of eyes to their door and the assessment of her which would be passed through the kitchens, cellars and washrooms of the street within half an hour. Mr. Darcy seemed to see none of it and helped her inside.

The service was obviously a popular one as it took some time to gain a position for the carriage. He helped her down and looking up she was faced with dozens of faces all taking note of her. The ladies noticed her attire and manner. The gentlemen noticed her beauty for today she had not only improved due to the contentment in her eyes but in the way she carried herself, no longer the girl but now the wife of Mr. Darcy. Introductions took place, names were forgotten, connections were lost, but through it all she maintained his arm and displayed the perfect measure of poise and friendliness. Mr. Darcy did nothing more than quote names and nod, leaving them all to learn the rewards of Elizabeth. By the time they proceeded up the aisle, even he was standing a little taller, having noted the envy of a number of the gentlemen.

On arrival back at their residence, they were greeted with tea and refreshments and it was as she was pouring that the housekeeper knocked and asked to speak to her. Elizabeth sat as the woman asked what menu she would like served that day. Of course she had often thought of these decisions during their courtship but suddenly it was on her.

'I have had little time to think of menus,' she said, looking at Mr. Darcy for help. He smiled and said nothing. 'Perhaps you should serve Mr. Darcy's favourite Sunday dinner.'

'Thank you, ma'am,' was the reply as she left.

'You do not have to order only what I like,' said Mr. Darcy.

'I know, Fitzwilliam, but I did not wish to spend hours looking at menus. Not today. Do you mind? I would really like to spend these days thinking of nothing but us.'

'Then I can think of nothing better than my favourite Sunday dinner.'

'Which is?'

'Ragout.'

'Oh ... .' She looked across to find him smiling at her. 'Sir? You are teasing me.'

'Of course. I happen to know you abhor ragout.'

'I think we are both blessed with excellent memories.'

'I cannot think past last night,' he replied, his voice tinged with a slight hoarseness.

She looked frantically at him, then at the door, afraid they would be overheard.

'You must not concern yourself with the staff, my dear. They have been well instructed not to interrupt us. I will not tolerate it. By the way, how is your maid?'

'She is a nice girl and very willing.'

'Good, she can be changed if you wish. There are one or two others who could also do the job.'

She looked at him as he spoke, seeing the man in charge, the man with responsibilities. Each hour seemed to bring something new to her.

'Why do you watch me so?' he asked.

'I ... I am seeing you as ... you have so much responsibility.'

'Oh but some of it is quite delightful.' He moved across to her and kissed her firmly. 'And sometimes it is quite impossible to behave as one wishes. Come to my library.'

She followed him there and closing the door, he kissed her again. Then as if shaking off his desires, he led her to the lower shelves on the left.

'This section is very new. I have all my new purchases placed here until I have at least perused them. Later they will be placed in their correct positions higher up.'

'Such order. My father was very careless in the positioning of his books. We were always losing them.'

'Do you prefer to read in the library or would you like some taken to your sitting room? There is also the small south reception room at the rear which I thought would make an excellent sitting room if you wished.'

'Fitzwilliam, I would not disturb you by reading here. I will look at both rooms and decide.'

'You could read here while I work,' he said kissing her again.

'I fear we may both get nothing done,' she replied.

'I insist that you at least visit me every day when I am working.'

'Only if you visit me.'

'Perfect,' he replied.

She walked to his desk and sat herself in his deep red leather chair, feeling the smooth places on the arms where his fingers rested. Then she leaned forward in the proper position for working and picked up one of his pens.

'It is a beautiful desk.' She looked across it and saw the outside sheet of a letter addressed to him and she could not help but see the signature on the bottom. His eyes followed hers and he picked it up quickly.

'I am sorry, Fitzwilliam. I did not mean to pry.'

'It is only a letter from my aunt,' was all he replied.

'Oh then she has forgiven you ... and me. I am so glad that she found the time to write to you.'

His face betrayed other feelings and she looked quizzically at him.

'It is not a letter of congratulations. My aunt has not changed her stand. In fact she has strengthened it. There will be no further communication with her.'

'But she is your aunt.'

'And she will never grace this house or Pemberley. Enough, Elizabeth.'

She knew it was too raw for him to discuss it rationally and she put it aside for a later time when his mood had mellowed. After discussing books for almost an hour, they were both happy to be informed that dinner was ready and this time he escorted her to the dining room. He sat at the head and she sat beside him on his right. There they ate quietly, brushing fingers and legs, helping each other to food and glorying in the sheer ecstasy of it all. After dessert, they strolled to the drawing room for coffee and there he requested that she play for him, this very first full day of their marriage.

She played as before, enchanting him with her style more than her technique. She sang a little but preferred to keep her eye on him rather on words and music. At last he came across and sat by her. Her fingers trailed down the keys and he took her hand and kissed her. They sat wrapped in each other, looking within each other's eyes.

'Would you think me coarse if I told you that I want you, now ... now?' he said softly, a slight crack in his voice.

'No,' she whispered.

Chapter 60

Posted on Saturday, 3 January 2004

He said nothing as he left the drawing room, leaving her in some confusion about his mood and his reaction to it. She closed the pianoforte and walked to the fireplace, running her hand over the mantel and adjusting the screen. She sat in what she assumed was his armchair, experiencing the feel of him around her. Looking about the room, she saw a small desk in the corner and walked to it, running her hand over the fine polished surface as she sat. She chose one of the three books stacked to the side and was just reading where the bookmark fell when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

'Elizabeth?'

'Oh you are back.'

As she stood, she turned to him and looking in his eyes, she saw her lover. He took her hand and gently led her upstairs. They entered directly into his suite, just as they saw his man disappear through the dressing room.

'Fitzwilliam?' she said, somewhat embarrassed and confused by his mood and the time of day. They had barely finished dinner and it was only late afternoon. But then she knew no rules for married life. She looked towards his dressing room, questioning him. His reply was to kiss her, boldly, forcefully and without hesitation. They continued in such a way, closing their bodies in a gradual frenzy of need.

However as the removal of clothing became urgent, she turned to him again. Without a word he knew what she was asking.

'I left you to ... take care of ... we will not be disturbed,' was all he spoke before she kissed him again.

She had never undone the cravat of a gentleman before, even though she and Jane had often attempted to tie one on each other as young girls. She pulled one part and he evoked a humorous choking sound, which destroyed the intensity of their need for a moment or two. But when they began again, it was even more powerful. Gone were the requirements of their wedding night, with dressing carefully for bed and waiting to be together.

As they reached their small garments, Elizabeth realised that she had nothing to replace them and that continuing would leave her naked in front of him. She hesitated for some moments but his caress was enough to rid her of any hint of modesty. He simply gloried in the sight of her and what woman could withdraw from that. For Elizabeth, the moment of revelation was shocking, embarrassing, pleasing and naughty all at the same time but his unswerving mood of rightness about it all lessened any discomfort she felt.

The bed was not turned down at this time of day so he accomplished the feat himself with a sweep of his arm. And then they were together, beginning another facet of their lives where they both discovered the passion of spontaneity. By its very nature their act was short and soon they found themselves lying together in the last of the daylight. Mr. Darcy had not allowed himself to live a life unplanned and he felt this moment more than Elizabeth. She had often taken a turn from the normal and had more quickly adjusted to their present situation.

'The sun is setting,' she said.

'I cannot believe it is ... it is still afternoon.'

'Indeed it is. We have not yet had tea. Are you hungry?' she added laughingly.

'Ah no, no.' His tone was stern and reserved.

'Fitzwilliam, are you ... was it not ... all you wished? I would never want to disappoint...'

He placed his fingers over her lips, silencing her. 'Never think of disappointment, my dearest Elizabeth. It could never be from your hands. It is just the time of day. I feel I was carried away and now ... we must face...'

'The staff.'

'Yes. There will be talk.'

'I am afraid there will. But it cannot be helped. Word will spread far and wide that Mr. Darcy led his wife to his rooms in the afternoon. I am sure we will be ruined,' she said quite seriously.

'I would never wish to disgrace you, Elizabeth. I cannot think what to do.'

'Oh Mr. Darcy, there is nothing to be done. Nothing that can be done. Our reputations are changed forever. It will always be said that Mr. and Mrs. Darcy enjoy the privacy of their rooms at various times of the day. It is hardly surprising when one sees how much in love they are.'

'I can feel no humour in this Elizabeth.'

'I was not teasing you, sir. I was merely stating the truth. I can see no impropriety in a husband and wife...'

'But the time of day. It is not done.'

'I am sure it is. I have no regrets and I ... I am sorry that you have.' Her eyes filled with hurt.

Mr. Darcy turned towards her, cradling her in his arms. 'I ... oh please do not cry. I cannot have you cry because I made love to you. It is all with me. I have been brought up too strictly ... too reserved. I think too much of propriety.'

'I should have refused you.'

'What?'

'It is the role of a wife to ... maintain...'

'Nonsense Elizabeth. It is no more up to you than I. What we do is done together and I will not have you responsible for my behaviour. I would never regret our lovemaking at any time of day.'

'But you said...'

'I was speaking as the Master of Pemberley and not your husband. Enough! It will never be mentioned again. We will behave as we see fit within the confines of our home.'

'But the talk. You said that it would...'

'What we do and what we do not do, will be discussed throughout the lower rooms of all the houses of Great Britain and there is nothing that can be done about it. If we are the current topic of such talk then so be it. Soon others will take our place.'

'I am sure you cannot push this aside so easily.'

'You know me so well already. No I cannot but I am aware that I can do nothing about it all.'

'Then I must assume that this will never happen again,' said Elizabeth.

'Never? My dearest wife, I cannot promise that you not be the subject of further such discussions below stairs because I cannot promise that I will not desire you at any time of the day or night.' His smile was filled with a witty resolve which brought a smile to her face.

'I must dress,' she said at last.

'Hmmm, but then ... we are here and the talk has begun.'

'Hmmm.'

'But then...'

'We should dress,' she said.

'Hmmm,' was his reply.

They returned to the drawing room half an hour later to find tea ready to be served. Once again he sat watching his very new wife perform her duties with a grace and style all her own. After tea they sat together, side by side, talking on random topics, flitting from their daily routine to furniture, outings, travel, horses, coaches, weather and each other. In fact they continued this way for some three hours and it was a surprise to both when they were asked if they were ready for supper. Elizabeth took the cue and nodded, not deferring to him at all. When Mr. Darcy realised that she had taken the decision he felt a strange and welcome contentment.

Supper was simply tea and coffee served with a small selection of delicacies. They ate a little and after she played once more for him, they retired for the night. As he came once again to her, she stood and as they walked hand in hand she spoke.

'It is Sunday night.'

'Yes.'

'And I have heard that you are quite irritable on Sunday nights.'

'I really wish Richard would allow me to keep my moods to myself. I am sure he talks more of me than any other.'

'But only because you are so dear.'

He smiled reluctantly.

'He is very fond of you,' she continued.

'As am I of him.'

'I must tell him that I have cured you of your Sunday night temper.'

'You will do no such thing. One word from you on this subject will cause him to jump to conclusions that are impossible to contemplate. I will never live it down.'

'So you wish to be considered irritable on Sunday nights for the rest of your life?'

'Well no ... oh this is hopeless. I have only Georgiana left to defend me,' he said smiling.

'Then I should return to my room if you have no need of me.'

'If you do, it will not be alone, my dear,' he said pulling her towards his bed.

'Then I must obey my husband,' she said archly, causing him to kiss her.

Their second night was so much more than their first in the process of their marriage that they woke feeling both excited and weary. However the weariness was put aside quickly as Mr. Darcy wished to be at breakfast by nine o'clock as he had the day planned. They were in his carriage by ten, travelling through the dull grey of the city. He had only told her that they had places to visit and being so new to all that was his, she did not question him.

The carriage pulled up outside a large building which did not resemble any of the warehouses she had ever visited. He guided her through the main door and into a large room on the left which was filled with furniture of the finest quality. Here they were greeted by a man of trade who was obviously well acquainted with Mr. Darcy. He led them through a tour of the pieces on show and as they progressed Elizabeth became aware of him watching her carefully. At the end of the tour, Mr. Darcy turned to her and asked her opinion as to her favourite style. Did she prefer the mahogany or the ash or perhaps the walnut with pine inlay was more her style? She looked a little puzzled until he informed her that her choice would be used to refurnish the mistress's suite at Pemberley.

Unable to comprehend the extent of complete refurbishment, she withdrew from any opinion and it was not until Mr. Darcy looked quite firmly at her that she made any comment. She did prefer the ash with the onyx trim and was also fond of the French style of decoration. The cabinetmaker took his leave for some quarter of an hour while Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were served refreshments and when he returned he had a drawing, which included all of Elizabeth's preferences. The whole process was so far from the realms of her previous single life that she found it impossible not to sigh often and smile too much. Suddenly there were decisions and opinions to be expressed and ideas to formulate that only two days previously she would never have been offered.

Mr. Darcy, taking so much of it in his own stride, was delighted at her reaction and the joy he saw in her eyes. He wanted to give her the world and although that was impossible, the trappings of his wealth were not. He left his man to negotiate the funds while he took Elizabeth to a favourite place for materials and there she chose new drapes and other bits and pieces necessary to a lady's rooms.'

They returned to their town house at two o'clock to find dinner ready and they had barely half an hour after that before the arrival of a visitor that Mr. Darcy had spoken of. The woman was of good breeding but obviously not of his family or friends and Elizabeth soon discovered that she was known in town as a leading modiste and was there to fit her for the necessary winter garments for Pemberley. Mr. Darcy knew that Elizabeth had purchased a new coat but only he knew the harshness of winter up north and was determined that she have the correct travelling and walking clothes.

Elizabeth was warmed by his thoughtfulness but the attention given her by the modiste brought her some further reflection on her new position in society. The woman brought with her another girl who with her mistress wrote measurements, displayed cloth and thread, held up sketches of possible styles, lined up buttons and braids and who joined in offering such reverence to Elizabeth that she felt the Prince himself would be honoured.

A full-length travel coat was ordered along with high boots and a fur-lined hood. There was also a fully lined walking coat and gloves as well as an evening gown suitable for much colder nights. Elizabeth slipped into her position as Mrs. Darcy with no outward semblance of unease and to anyone but her husband she would have seemed to have been treated this way all her life. However when the ladies had left, Mr. Darcy took her hand.

'You were not happy with my decision to have these clothes made.'

'I was surprised. I ... I cannot fault you.'

'But you can fault my taking it upon myself without reference to you.'

'They are your words, sir.'

'But merely an expression of your thoughts. I meant them as a gift, Elizabeth.'

'I am aware of that. I ... I cannot explain what I feel. Perhaps it is just that I am afraid of being ... of being swallowed up by ... it all. Your life is quite beyond me at this point.'

'You are not happy.'

'I am ... oh how I love you.'

'I was not questioning your love for me, Elizabeth. Are you happy?'

'Yes,' she said hesitantly, 'I am ... I am happy.'

'But?'

'Fitzwilliam ... I am so afraid of failing.'

'Failing ... failing at what?'

'This ... all this. I find myself lost in it all. Elizabeth Benn ... Elizabeth Darcy lost in the immenseness of it all. Three days ago I was living in Hertfordshire and cringing at my mother. Now I am here in one of your houses, trying ... pretending to be ... what I am not ... perhaps what I will never be.'

He hurried to her, holding her tight against him. She leaned into him, secure in his grasp but not in his world. He spoke softly to her.

'Elizabeth, there is no gain in me telling you of the difficulties that might arise from our marriage. That topic has been dealt with by both of us in a manner that we both choose to forget. However it may help to tell you of other things. My first sight of you was brief and perfunctory and I will always regret the time lost by my nonchalant and careless comments. But since that moment I have never wavered from my ... my obsession with you. There I have said it. No matter what I did or where I went, you were with me, your eyes, your beauty, your mind, challenging me to dismiss you. I failed to do so. That you would have me now is more than I could ever have hoped for in this past year. Just to be near you seemed enough at first, then to speak to you, then to argue with you for our arguments were so much more than disagreements. And then nothing of that was enough. I craved you as a man should not crave another. But it was there. It is still there and nothing that you could do or say or neglect to do or say would ever lessen that yearning in me.'

She glanced up quickly at him as he continued. 'I know that my life is grand, pompous even at times, but loving you has shown me another side of this life, a side that can be generous beyond fault, not with condescension but with deference for the values of others. I ask only that you accept what I can give you without concern while you study what I have learned from you. It is with you, together, that we will both gain from ... from this, as you call it.'

He looked down at her but she still said nothing as she absorbed all he had said. Eventually he raised his brows hoping for a reply.

'I ... thank you for ... my feelings are so confused. I look around me and see nothing of mine ... of me. I wish to be humbled by it all but I find myself fighting it sometimes.'

'The furniture, cabinets, the coats, they are my feeble attempt at giving you things that are yours.'

'And they are wonderful. But to be mistress of all this is to ... surely I will be compared.'

'Compared? To whom?'

'I know that your aunt thinks me incapable of being a proper wife to you. I do so wish that she thought better of me.'

'She is of no consequence.'

'But she is, Fitzwilliam. As much as I wish to disregard her opinion I cannot. She is the sister of your mother and she is dear to you. You are dear to her. If it was not so, she would not feel as she does.'

'Her opinions are based purely on position and connections.'

'Which are part of you. You cannot become less by marrying me. I would never allow you to become less.'

'What are you asking of me Elizabeth?'

'That you attempt some reconciliation with Lady Catherine. That you try to heal the breach I have caused in your family. Until they accept me, I cannot be the wife you deserve.'

'Nonsense! I have long ago given up on my family.'

'And that is what hurts me. How can we live together as a proper man and wife while you are separated from your closest relations? It is impossible and I see that now. As much as I wish to continue to behave as I did on her visit, I see now that it is impossible.'

'You may behave as you wish.'

'No I cannot. My love and respect for you is too great to allow a rift to exist in your family. You are the best man I have ever known and you must have everything that I can give you. You must have your family.'

'Do you expect me to ignore what she has said of you? Of our marriage? I cannot do that Elizabeth.'

'But can you accept her opinion as simply that and allow her in your life?'

'It is she who has chosen this course.'

'But it is you who can alter it. Please Fitzwilliam, write to her. Ask that she will visit us at Pemberley.'

'I think you ask too much of me, madam.'

'I could never ask too much of you, my darling, because you are capable of everything.'

He smiled, 'Elizabeth ... I think you have quickly learned the wiles of a wife.'

She smiled in return. 'Perhaps what I said was too mu ... no it was not! You are capable of everything ... even forgiving Lady Catherine.'

'I can only promise to think on it. You cannot ask for more.'

'But I can hope for it,' she said impishly.

He moved close to her, brushing her ear with his lips as he spoke. 'I respectively request that such comments and looks be saved for the evening.'

'It is evening.'

'For the bedchamber.'

'At any time of the day or night?' she asked running her fingers up his spine, resulting in a stern look from him.

'I cannot help myself, sir. I am newly married you see and I have yet to tire of my husband.'

'Yet?'

'Yet. He is quite determined you see and eventually I am sure that his moods will fatigue me.'

'There is one mood which will definitely fatigue you, my dear.'

'I cannot think which one you mean,' she replied, secretly hoping to tempt him to further action. However he continued their game without further contact with her.

'You will discover it some Sunday night,' was all he said as he left the room.

Elizabeth craned to see which direction he took but he was out of sight. Sighing she crossed to the door and walked along to his library thinking he might be there. Finding it empty, she shrugged and turned to the books which formed the walls of his library. They reached as high as the sixteen-foot ceiling with brass rails swirling around the perimeter guiding a strong mahogany ladder. There was a smell of him in here, a kind of peculiar scent that stirred her senses. She touched his writing pad, his pens and his seals, all perfectly in line. His writing sheets were stacked in a wooden frame open at one end and stained in a darker colour than his desk. The desk itself was mahogany with inlays of onyx and ash. The leather pad was deep green embossed with gold leaf.

She crouched to the lower shelves and began perusing the titles of his newest acquisitions. She was just lifting one of interest from the row when he came back and stood behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder.

'Fitzwilliam.'

'My apologies for leaving you so suddenly.'

'I missed you. I thought perhaps you were ... angry with me for...'

'I am not angry. I heard the door and I was expecting Franklin.'

'Is there urgent business from Pemberley?'

'No, nothing urgent at all. I took care of all my business when I was last in town. He brought something to me that I had requested then.'

'Oh,' was all she said in response, her eyes turned once more to her book.

'Elizabeth?'

'Hmmm?'

'Please come with me,' he said rather pleadingly.

'Of course.' She sprang to her feet and her enthusiasm relieved him somewhat. He took her hand and led her upstairs but this time he followed her into her dressing room. She looked enquiringly at him, suspecting that they may be about to repeat the occurrence of Sunday. Instead he gently sat her down at her table. For a few seconds she gave him a puzzled reflection until her eyes lowered to a faded velvet box lying in front of her. It was oblong, about six inches long and quite flat. She looked back at him as he indicated she should open it. Her hands shook as there was no doubt of its contents and she hardly felt ready to take more of this on her shoulders.

The hinges creaked as she lifted the lid to show a very simple pendant attached to a rather solid gold chain. She turned it over to reveal a large diamond, almost pale blue encased in a gold socket of matching shape. The clasp was a tiny hook which was caught by a miniature of the larger diamond. It was simple and exquisite and spoke of his family in just the way Pemberley did. There was no ostentation or pretense.

She held it as if it was a fine crystal glass that could break at any time. He leaned around her with his arms and took it from her, winding it around her neck and fastening it at her nape. His fingers adjusted the position of the pendant at her throat so that is shone from her at its finest.

'It is something that has been in my family for some time. I am not sure how long. I know it was my mother's but a young man never feels the need to enquire about the origin of his mother's jewellery and my father died ... well I know nothing of it. I only know that as a child I used to watch its brilliance and wonder how many colours were in it. I only thought of it after our engagement and I knew then it must be recovered and that you must have it.'

'Fitzwilliam...'

'As a boy, it was probably the single most precious symbol of contentment in my life and feeling as I do for you, I wanted to see it worn again in the same way ... with the same meaning.'

She slowly raised her eyes to him and saw little of the man of the house or the master of Pemberley. Instead there was Fitzwilliam Darcy with every touch of his feelings on show. She placed her hand over his on her shoulder and smiled that smile of a wife when nothing needs to be said and he responded immediately with the face of the man the world sees. She had drawn him back.

He turned from her, knowing already the power she had to turn his life one way or another and he shook slightly with the wonder and fear of it.

'Come, I think I hear the supper bell,' he said.

'Supper bell? I have never heard of a bell for supper,' she said.

'Then it must be the ... door,' his tone slightly frantic.

She stood and took his arm as they left her dressing room, whispering to him, 'I think you are afraid of being alone with me, Mr. Darcy.'

He shook his head in frustration at her as they made their way down the hall.

Supper was not served for a further two hours but during that time Elizabeth played for him for almost half an hour followed by a time when they merely sat together talking of anything. The subject of Pemberley came up often and he began to talk of the way his life was run as she asked more and more questions about his routine. She worried that he had not been to his club since their wedding as she knew that gentlemen spent much of their time there and he quickly dismissed her concerns by assuring her that time together was what he needed most.

He listened to her concerns with fascination, as he had never expected to need her so much or to wish so much for her. He had always known that he loved her but this was more. This was a complete absorption of his being within hers and as he began to tell her of his life, it was suddenly important that she know not only of his crops and flocks, herds and meadows but also of what they all meant to the structure of his life and inheritance.

Elizabeth listened with a different ear. She heard his pride and his responsibility more than she heard the details of his sheep. The numbers in his flocks and herds were of little consequence to a new wife determined to be part of every facet of her husband's life.

By supper they had covered most topics of common interest except their families and that they had mutually and silently decided should be left for another time. It seemed that already they were both learning the subtleties of marriage.

Chapter 61

Posted on Thursday, 8 January 2004

On Wednesday morning early they set off for Pemberley. Tuesday had been spent at home, Mr. Darcy not daring to buy her more and she not willing to suggest any other form of outing. The preparations for their journey were quiet extensive or so they seemed to Elizabeth as Mr. Darcy was in conference with his grooms for over an hour and seemed to be always in a rush to see if his instructions had been carried out. There was extra luggage to secure as Mr. Darcy wished many of his books as well as some thing he usually kept in town, be sent on to Pemberley. The luggage cart left late on Tuesday.

When Elizabeth boarded his carriage on Wednesday morning, the sun was barely visible behind the dense murk of a winter morning. However the carriage was incredibly warm with a number of heat bricks placed inside as well as foot warmers and rugs. There was also a basket containing wine and cordial along with cold meats and bread for refreshment during their trip. Elizabeth wore her new travel coat and fur lined hood and although she was ill at ease with such luxury she knew that it would hold her in good stead as they travelled north. Mr. Darcy joined her on the rear seat, tucking in her rug, adjusting her foot warmer and calling for an extra cushion for her back. She smiled all through this fussing, content to let him play concerned husband for she was sure it would not last forever as they became more accustomed to each other.

He held her hand as the carriage moved off and she found herself smiling broadly.

'You are happy to be away,' he said.

'No ... I am happy to be on our way to Pemberley. I love this house in town but Pemberley is your real home.'

'Our home.'

She could only smile.

'Where are we to stop?' she asked.

'Luton, if the weather holds. It leaves a suitable trip for the second day. The inn is sufficient with little traffic. I prefer the privacy of smaller places.'

'And what time should we arrive?'

'At the inn? Ah, by four o'clock I would hope. The roads are not good at this time but if there are no mishaps along the way, that time should prove correct.'

'Mishaps?'

'There are often accidents, Elizabeth. But I have instructed them to drive carefully and watch ahead.'

As she watched the fading sights of town, she began to giggle a little.

'What is amusing you, my dear?' asked Mr. Darcy.

'I am reminded of our first carriage ride from Longbourn.'

'Oh ... Such a ride.'

'Indeed, sir. I think we were both hesitant.'

'Or anxious,' he replied. 'I know that I wanted you so much.'

'And I knew that.'

'And you?'

I wanted ... I did know what I wanted ... at least I did not really think I knew what I wanted. It was all so ... I am sure there should be rules for such journeys.'

'Rules?'

'Yes, The Ladies' Guide to Marital Journeys,' she said laughing.

'Perhaps you should write one but you must not refer to our conversations.'

'Oh, and that would remove the fun of it all. Do you expect Georgiana to be there when we arrive?'

'Oh no, she will wait my instructions. I wish some days alone with you.'

'And do you think she will make Pemberley her home?'

'I hope that she will. She is often there and often other places, town and study. Many places. I feel she has been restless. However since ... since Ramsgate, she is happier to remain in one place and I hope that will be Pemberley. I think my travels have kept her away.'

'You have told me little of your travels. What countries have you seen on the Continent?'

'France, of course. I did a tour as I have told you. I did quite like Holland but not Germany so much. Italy ... Italy is ... I would like to take you to Italy.'

'What of your trip with Georgiana? You often spoke of it.'

'I did but now ... now it must change.'

'Oh Fitzwilliam, you must not change such plans for me. Your sister will think me ... she spoke of it also. You must not disappoint her.'

'It has already been decided that we will not go next year. At least not unless you wish to go. My life is with you now, Elizabeth. You are my wife.'

'But she is your sister. And her troubles have been ... she needs so much of you.'

'Which she will have but she also needs a sister and I know that you are ready to take that position.'

'Oh yes. Very ready.'

Their conversation drifted away to nothing as the miles passed. There just seemed little to comment on during the steady rocking of the carriage. Naturally with such regular cradling they both became sleepy and it was not long before they were supporting each other in their dozing. Mr. Darcy attempted to stay awake to prevent Elizabeth becoming stiff but it was to no avail and it was close to noon when he awoke with a start. His movements caused her to wake also and together they stretched and wriggled to improve their circulation. Mr. Darcy moved to the opposite seat and called to the driver who informed them that they were a little less than half an hour before the change.

Mr. Darcy escorted Elizabeth inside during the change and secured a private room where they could both take care of necessities. Elizabeth washed her face of the grime of travel and arranged her hair again under her bonnet. Mr. Darcy needed only a few minutes and was soon outside ensuring that the carriage was reloaded with the refinements of genteel travel. They were on their way again within half an hour.

On setting off, they chose to partake of some food and drink and Elizabeth found herself being waited on by her husband who chose the perfect piece of chicken for her and presented it wrapped in a linen napkin. She laughed at his efforts to please her and he informed her that it was his way during travel and that he had always served his sister.

The afternoon went more slowly than the morning as both were fully rested, leaving nothing but restlessness to occupy them. They spoke again of their future plans. He so wished to have her choose a sitting room near his library. She spoke of possible visitors and which rooms would suit them.

At ten minutes to four the carriage made a left hand swerve through narrow gates and halted in front of a quaint inn, no more than four rooms across. The stables, visible at the right hand side, seemed overly large for such a small place and Mr. Darcy explained that they preferred to cater for larger carriages with fewer passengers. It was exactly the kind of place that suited him.

The innkeeper was a tall man, quite thin, who seemed very familiar with the requirements of a gentleman such as Mr. Darcy. The halls were spotless, the rugs beaten and there was no sign of any previous or current guests. They were shown to adjoining rooms, and after changing, they strolled to the large reception room where a table was set for two. The meal was simple fare, rich with flavour and local produce and warming in the dark of a cold winter afternoon. They moved to his room after eating, choosing to sit together reading until nearly nine o'clock. When they found themselves sleepy, she moved towards her room but he held her back, asking her to stay with him.

Elizabeth was hesitant in the confines of a country inn but his look was too tender to refuse, so she took his hand and guided him to her room. It was a move he found quite provocative and it was only some half an hour later that they found themselves standing beside the bed, attempting to make sense of the disheveled bed covers. They slept a little longer than Mr. Darcy would normally have expected to and once again he found the contentment of marriage had altered his plans. Not accustomed to anything but absolute precision in all facets of his life, he found the adjustment quite disconcerting.

He rose carefully, part of him not wishing to disturb her and part of him wanting to adhere to their departure time. While dressing in his own room he found himself continuing to fight the urge to have things as he had planned all the while realising that their was no necessity to leave when he had intended. Elizabeth had felt him leave her bed and although she appeared asleep, she was in that vague part of herself where she wished it was not morning quite yet. She rose almost twenty minutes after him and managed to be dressed and ready to accompany him downstairs no more than five minutes later than he had planned. Thus they set off on time and after a change and a hearty dinner, they expected to arrive at Pemberley in the middle of the afternoon.

As they travelled the road where she had first seen Pemberley, she found herself once again stunned by its beauty. The carriage did not pause for a longer view and she lost sight of it again until they began down the slight incline leading to the main gates. She was distracted from it for a time by the look in her husband's eyes as he took in his estate. There was a pride, not unfounded, in being the master of it all and once again she felt the importance of being its mistress.

Mr. Darcy was indeed smiling as he saw Pemberley again but this time it was just as he had dreamed for so many months. This time she was beside him, ready to take up the mantle of mistress, guiding his home life, bearing his children, creating his home.

The staff was all ready for introductions and this time Elizabeth tried intently to remember their names. It was impossible of course and by the time she reached the second row she had forgotten most of them. At the end she stood beside her husband and apologised in advance for any lapses in her memory and for that she raised a smile amongst them all.

He guided her to their rooms as soon as he could, knowing that she would wish to bathe and change after their travel. Entering this most private area was overwhelming to Elizabeth for this was truly her home. This was the place from which her life would radiate. Looking around she saw the wear on the old furnishings and realised that he was right in desiring it be redone. He looked enquiringly at her and she simply smiled and nodded, already aware of his meaning without the need for words. He left her and walked through to his rooms leaving open the doors and speaking to her as he went.

'I thought you may like to rest before taking on the rest of the household,' he said as he walked.

'I am not so very tired. Arriving has me excited. Oh Fitzwilliam, it is so beautiful. I cannot believe that it is now my home.'

Walking back to the door he said, 'I have imagined it for so long that I cannot believe it has actually happened.'

'You are being as silly as I am,' she replied.

'I adore your silliness,' he said, his mood almost ecstatic. He walked back to her, now in only his shirtsleeves and standing behind her, he removed her bonnet. 'There, that is how I have seen you. Here let me help you.'

He helped her remove her travel garments, leaving her standing in her petticoat. It was then she realised that no servants were present. 'I thought ... have you dismissed the servants?'

'I have. In fact I asked that they leave us alone until we ring. I wanted this first time to be totally alone with you here.'

'It is so large. I cannot possibly fill these closets and drawers.'

'But you must. I want you to order anything you wish.'

She smiled up at him. 'You will not buy me with bribes, Mr. Darcy.'

'Oh, I was so sure it would work,' he said laughing. 'Do you wish to bathe? I can send for water.'

'Yes, in a moment. First I must look about. It is definitely larger than I remember. And the view. Oh my goodness, it is breathtaking. They were roses, were they not?' she asked of him, indicating a dormant garden bed some ten yards from the house.

'Tulips, actually. The roses are on the other side. I find that tulips grow well in this climate.'

'And when do we see the first of the bulbs?'

'Hmmm, normally by April but with such fierce weather, it may be later next year.'

He walked up behind her and she naturally leaned back against him as he wrapped his arms around her. She could feel his sigh pass through her body.

'Are you tired?' she asked.

'No, not at all. I am ... content. Content beyond words. You are here.'

'I will always be here.'

'The light is fading,' he said unconsciously.

'It is winter.'

'And you are here.'

'And now I cannot imagine being anywhere else.' She turned in his arms and held him as tightly as he held her and as the afternoon turned to evening, so their lives began again in this special place.

After bathing the grime of travel from their bodies, they ate an early supper in the small dining room. It was impossible to taste all that Mrs. Reynolds had ordered for that night. There were two stews, dishes heaped with winter vegetables from parsnips, turnips and potatoes as well as preserved fruits. They nibbled at it all, eating little of anything, talking and touching, she suggesting odd combinations for him to taste and he tempting her with morsels of fruit. It was so different from their first meal in town where things unsaid were on their minds. Now they had the freedom of intimacy to play with.

As much as he wanted to hear her play again for him at Pemberley, he wanted more to have as his wife and so he led her upstairs just after eight o'clock. The girl waiting had been carefully chosen for her post and was old enough to know the ways of marriage and men. Quickly and efficiently she helped Elizabeth into her bedclothes and disappeared without a word.

This night he desired her without haste and they began with wine by the fire in his sitting room. Curled in his arms she noticed a book on the side table and she reached across him to pick it up. The stretch of her body over his was so provocative that he leaned over and handed it to her quickly rather than be tempted so soon. It was a volume of Songs of Innocence by William Blake that she had never seen before and as she turned the pages she found exquisite illustrations, carefully coloured and formed.

'This is simply beautiful. I have never seen such work.'

'It has a partner in my library. The engravings were done by Blake himself.'

Elizabeth ran her hand lovingly over the pages, feeling the texture of the work. Finding The Tyger, the one she knew best, she found the side of page showed a large tree winding its way up to the title. Each page was a work of art in itself. She began to smile and lower her eyes from him.

'Elizabeth?'

'I was ... I cannot believe the things you bring to me.'

'It is merely a book.'

'But such a book. The circumstances at Longbourn permitted a good library but nothing like this.'

His smile was pure satisfaction. 'I am pleased that you find it so appealing. And what of the owner?'

'Ah, so you seek to distract me from it as soon as I find it. Such shallow thoughts, sir.'

'Shallow? I think not.' He leaned down and kissed her. 'Are you tired?'

'No ... unless you are.'

Understanding her meaning already he looked closely at her. 'I am beginning to feel a little weary.'

A tiny giggle erupted from her. 'Oh dear, I was sure you would not wish to waste our first night at Pemberley by sleeping.'

'And once again you are right, my love. There will be no waste and little sleep. Come!'

He led her to his vast bed, centred on a long wall, surrounded by heavy hangings, sitting as a symbol of his position. He helped her up and then sat beside her while she removed her wrap. She lay back and he arranged the covers around her.

'Are you not joining me?'

'Silly girl. First I wish to see you in my bed. It is a dream I have often had.'

'And is this how you saw me?'

He blushed at her words, unable to fully explain his dream. She saw his heightened colour and smiled shyly away from him. It was enough to end his thoughts and facilitate his actions. He climbed in beside her but this time she reached for him, taking him in her touch and astounding him with her openness. Even in the short period of their marriage, they had established a pattern of sorts and finding her breaking that brought him a strange sense of lack of control. Up to this moment he had lead her in their lovemaking and despite his many daydreams he had never quite expected his reaction to be as it was.

Sensing his change, she paused and looked carefully at him.

'Should I not have ... ' she could say no more.

'My dearest Elizabeth, you ... I am just ... I never thought it would be like this.'

'Now you worry me. I have always been too forward.'

'No, no, never think that. It is just that I could never have imagined what it ... what I would feel to have you want me.'

'Did you think that previously I did not?'

'No, I have mixed my words. It is so far beyond ... I am just overwhelmed that you love me.'

'Always,' she replied as they began again, this time equally sharing the bliss of each other.

They did not stir again until the first light of morning drifted over them. It was past eight o'clock and Mr. Darcy sat up suddenly.

'Fitzwilliam, is something wrong?'

'No, my dear, it is just morning. We slept all night.'

She laughed at his words and he gave her a puzzled look.

'You are surprised that we slept all night?' she said.

He grinned. 'No, only that we slept so long. It is a quarter past eight. I have never stayed in bed so late.'

'But with the travel, it must be expected.'

'Hmmm, such a journey is always tiring,' he said as he stepped to the floor. 'I must call Geoffrey.'

'Will you come for me after you dress?' she asked as she left his room.

'Of course.'

Mr. Darcy called his man and within half an hour was dressed for the day. He proceeded through to Elizabeth's rooms and was about to enter her dressing room when she called him to her. He turned to find her lying in her own bed and rushed to her side.

'Are you well or do you simply wish more rest? I will send you up a tray,' he said rather urgently.

'Mr. Darcy, I am not tired and I am not unwell. However I do think it is still a little too early for newlyweds to go down for breakfast.'

'Madam?'

'Please I wish you by me,' she said pulling him towards her. She kissed him and began to untie his cravat. 'My skills are improving she said, as it fell to the floor.'

'Elizabeth!'

'I have not called the girl and I have informed Mrs. Reynolds that we will be breakfasting at ten o'clock this first morning as we are both extremely exhausted after the wedding and our journey. Thus you are free to do as you wish for the next hour but I would much prefer you to do what I wish. Come Mr. Darcy, your wife needs you.'

'Elizabeth, what has come over you?'

'Arriving at Pemberley has given me a contentment that I have never felt before. I intend to begin our life here in the most pleasurable way I can think of. Have you any objections, sir?'

'Well ... no. I ... the servants ... Geoffrey...'

'Are all aware that we have been married less than a week.' She kissed him again and he was lost once more.

When they eventually entered the breakfast room they found it filled with dried flowers arranged in crystal vases at each end of the sideboard. The breakfast dishes were so varied that Elizabeth began to laugh as she moved along the array.

'I think Mrs. Reynolds has outdone herself,' said Mr. Darcy.

'I am sure she has.'

'I hope you find something to your liking.'

'I am sure she has ordered everything possible for me to choose from. Oh, there are kidneys again. Obviously a Darcy favourite.'

He laughed as he followed her, heaping his plate with food. She looked back at his plate and raised her brows.

'Mr. Darcy, may I suggest that you eat a little more at supper to avoid the need for such a large breakfast?'

'You may, madam, but what I eat the previous day has little effect on my breakfast. There are other ... reasons for my hunger.'

'Well I have had enough of large breakfasts. I have not been walking for days now and it is time to get some exercise. I hope you will join me as soon as you have eaten all that. I must see the pond again ... and the stream.'

'I thought you would rather see the house again. I know Mrs. Reynolds has many things to show you.'

'Oh dear. Already I have so much to consider.'

'But nothing that cannot wait. I did not mean to cause you discomfort. We will walk first and then perhaps you can see Mrs. Reynolds while I take care of some business.'

'Oh ... I thought ... no matter.'

'Elizabeth?'

'I ... you will think me silly. I thought you would be with me on the tour of the house.'

'If you wish. I thought...' he laughed. 'I thought you might think me a hindrance.'

'Oh no, please come with me.'

'I will.'

While Mr. Darcy ploughed his way through a substantial plate of hot food, Elizabeth stayed with two slices of toasted bread and jam. It was almost three quarters of an hour before they were ready for their walk and as soon as they left the house, Elizabeth was glad of her new winter walking coat and boots. The air was crisply palpable, cutting through the fine layers of their skin. Elizabeth bundled herself up in her fur-lined hood and tucked her hands into her pockets. Mr. Darcy hooked his hand around her arm and steadied her along the icy path to the pond. The water was still moving but there was a thin covering of ice in the shallow recesses along the bank.

'Ooooh, it is so cold!' said Elizabeth, as the wind picked up and blew her coat away from her legs.

'Would you rather go back?'

'Oh no, it is ... exciting to see the land so ... so stark, ready for snow.' She looked around at him and he was shaking his head. 'What? ... Why are you shaking your head?'

'Because you continue to astound me, my dear. Most ladies would not venture outdoors until March.'

'Oh how utterly boring. I love to walk and see the changes. Come let us see if we can find the last of the leaves.'

She grabbed his hand and pulled him along towards the stream, taking the same path they had taken in August. She found two last leaves under one large oak and put them carefully in her pocket. On their return to the house he stopped on the lawn.

'There, exactly there,' he said, running his hands down her arms.

'What are you doing?' she asked.

'This is where I first saw you.'

'Oh ... oh. And you were there,' she said pointing to corner of the house.

They stood together looking towards his position and thinking of that time. Elizabeth could only remember the embarrassment of being found at his house. In fact the memory of it brought a new blush to her. Mr. Darcy's thoughts were only of the joy he felt when he first saw her followed immediately by the confusion of why she should be there. They continued to relive those moments in silence until at last he took her hand, bringing a gentle smile to her face.

'I had never felt so awkward in my life,' was all she said.

'And I will never forgive myself for making you feel so.'

'I am happy my aunt and uncle brought me here but I still think of it with difficulty.'

'I do not. It was the means of bringing us together. I will always be grateful to them. I do hope they will visit us.'

'I am sure they will. And I wish that Jane and Charles will also come often,' replied Elizabeth. 'I promised to write to her but as yet I have not had the time.'

'She will understand. We have had to travel while they have only had themselves.'

They walked back inside, hand in hand, and there he secured her in the rear sitting room before calling Mrs. Reynolds. They then set about going over all the details to do with the running of Pemberley. Housekeeping requirements, staff, kitchens, linen, silver, porcelain, produce, spices and wine were all noted before an extensive tour of the house took place. For Elizabeth it was overabundance of information so vast that she thought she might never keep everything in place in her mind. By the time they reached the attics, Mr. Darcy was aware of her dilemma and dismissing Mrs. Reynolds, he took Elizabeth to a small window where they had an extensive view of the valley.

'You do not have to remember it all.'

'But...'

'No mistress knows it all on the first day.'

'I know that, I do. However ... there is just so much to keep track of.'

'But that is why we have Mrs. Reynolds. She has been instructed to bother you only as you require. One step at a time, Elizabeth.'

'You must think me such a child.'

'Never a child, my dear, never a child,' he replied taking her in his arms and kissing her. 'Now for dinner. I am hungry again.'

She laughed.

'Then,' he continued, ' you will join me in my library while I go over some papers from my steward.'

'I do have letters to write.'

'And Mrs. Reynolds did say there was post for both of us.'

'May I see my letters first?'

'Of course, I think she was only keeping them in my library to avoid interrupting us this morning. Come.'

Lying on his desk in two neat piles were various posts from Mr. Bingley, Jane, Mrs. Bennet, Mrs. Gardiner and Lydia. Mr. Darcy picked up his single message from his friend and handed Elizabeth her four.

'I see you are already taking over my library. With this volume of daily posts requiring replies you will have no time for me,' he said as she opened her letter from Jane.

'Oh I will always have time for you,' replied Elizabeth, not listening at all to him but rather concentrating on her letter. Jane was ecstatically happy with married life. Mr. Bingley was attentive, loving and always happy. However he did seem a little less affable when their mother called which happened to be three times already.

'And how is Jane?'

'Wonderful,' replied Elizabeth still distracted, 'and Charles?'

'Fine.'

'Oh ... oh how ... oh ... oh Jane. Hmmm, really Lydia, how could you? Yes, Jane, yes. Hmmm...'

'Elizabeth?'

'Hmmm?'

'Do you make it a habit of talking to yourself while reading your letters?'

'Hmmm.'

'Elizabeth?'

'Hmmm.'

'My darling, would you rather I left you alone?'

'Hmmm?'

He walked over to her, prised her chin up with his finger and kissed her. Immediately she went back to her letter. He stood beside her, still and upright, summoning a punishing glare. After almost a minute she looked up at him.

'Hmmm?'

He smiled. 'No matter, Elizabeth. Please read your letters.'

She did not reply as she was too busy continuing with them. It was almost half an hour later before she became aware of his company again. Looking up, she blinked her eyes and smiled at him.

'And how is Charles?' she asked.

'I am sure Jane's letter told you all. What of the others?'

'Other letters?'

'Yes.'

'Mama is full of praise for her nearest son-in-law. My aunt is full of questions. And Lydia ... well Lydia is still Lydia.'

'Meaning?'

'Meaning she has no thoughts of anyone except herself. She offers token wishes for our marriage and then speaks of no one but Mr. Wickham.' Elizabeth could not possibly tell Mr. Darcy that Lydia had openly requested favours for her husband and even hinted at money being sent.

'She is very young, Elizabeth.'

'And extremely silly, as you well know. Have you word from Georgiana?'

'No, I will write to her now. Would it suit you for her to arrive at the end of next week? Or perhaps a fortnight might be better.'

'I will leave her arrival to you, my dear. I am as anxious to see her again as you are. I was thinking that perhaps Kitty may come and visit next year. I am sure that the influence of your sister would improve her greatly.'

'And they are of similar age. I think that would be perfect. I am sure Georgiana would not want to spend all her time with an old married couple,' replied Mr. Darcy.

'I am sure we are not an old married couple quite yet. I would hope that we have many years before we will be called so.'

He smiled at her as she moved to the small table in the corner, taking a sheet and pen and beginning already to compose her replies. He sighed with a deep contentment. It just all seemed so perfect, this new life of his. He had her with him every day. He had her laughter and her warmth to encase him and he had her love. No man could ask for more.

Elizabeth's enthusiasm for everything left him bewildered at times. She was eager for it all yet tender to the responsibilities that would be hers, yet he had no doubt that within some weeks she would be running his household with all the zeal and flair that she exhibited in the other parts of her life and his. He began his letter to his sister and then his reply to Mr. Bingley and as he wrote he looked up every few lines to see her bent over, pen frantically forming her words. The sound of her folding her sheets was a balm to him and he found himself warmer within that he had ever been in his life and anxious that it never change.

Elizabeth continued her writing for over an hour until Mrs. Reynolds knocked and asked if they did indeed require dinner at all this day. They had both forgotten the time and somewhat embarrassed at her first lapse, Elizabeth hurried him to the dining room where they were served a rich mutton roast with potatoes and chicory. Mr. Darcy ate much less than she expected but then considering his breakfast she was not surprised. Dessert was a bread and butter pudding with custard and they laughed aloud as they helped themselves to the dainty jug.

That night, after both thinking the other would prefer a full night's sleep, they found that a goodnight kiss was insufficient and the night began as each of those through the week. He fell asleep almost immediately afterwards leaving her quite alert and full of thoughts. This was now her home as well. She was responsible for its running smoothly, for economy, for entertaining, for all parts of making it his home. Her mind flitted from room to room, envisaging different seasons, herself as hostess to his friends, arranging menus that he preferred. And then she went to his family. Their marriage had obviously alienated so much of it and this must be repaired if his life was to be happy. But she could think of no way to heal the rift. Lady Catherine was bitter and vile about her and a lady such as her would never change her mind. Elizabeth drifted to sleep uneasy and a little unhappy that their love could cause such pain in so many lives. Despite his seeming contentment, she knew that he was not and could never be without the approval of his aunt.

Mr. Darcy woke around one o'clock, his first thoughts only of Elizabeth as she slept beside him. But as he began to consider their lives, he could not ignore his family. As the night progressed, so did his concern and like all problems it seemed much worse than in the light of day. He lay there for some three hours, thinking of his aunt and her influence on his other relatives and he knew that the rift would always bring him pain. Yet he could never allow them to mistreat his wife. Eventually he slept again, dreaming of her torment and his under the vicious words of his aunt. He woke with no sense of contentment at all and little recollection of what brought on his bad mood.

Chapter 62

Posted on Monday, 12 January 2004

When Elizabeth woke, Mr. Darcy had left the bed and was nowhere to be found. She called the girl who informed her that the master was already in the breakfast room. Thinking of his morning hunger, Elizabeth smiled and began dressing but it was another half an hour before she walked into breakfast. Mr. Darcy was finishing his second cup of coffee.

'Good morning, my dear,' he said as she entered.

'Good morning. You crept away quite early,' said Elizabeth, kissing him on the cheek.

He took her hand and kissed it. 'I woke and felt the need to dress. I hope I did not disturb you.'

'Oh no, but you should have woken me. I would have come down with you.'

'No matter,' was all he replied. 'And what are your plans for this morning?'

'My plans? I was hoping they may still be our plans.'

'Certainly!' he said rather abruptly. 'But I must see to my papers first.'

'Certainly!' she replied, mimicking him slightly.

She went to the sideboard and took a coddled egg and some freshly baked bread. Returning to the table she found him pouring her coffee.

'Thank you,' she said but received no acknowledgement from him. She began to eat while he stood and walked to the window without a word.

'Do you have something on your mind?' she asked. 'You seem very quiet.'

'I do? No, life is getting back to normal.'

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders and went on with her breakfast, keeping one eye on him as he perused the grounds. He said nothing for a good ten minutes. By the time she had finished eating, the silence had taken on huge proportions and rather than allow it to fester, she began to giggle at it.

'Oh dear, married a week and nothing left to say,' she announced.

'Pardon?' was all she received in reply.

'Fitzwilliam,' she said, walking over to him, 'tell me, what is your concern? Tenants perhaps?'

'Tenants? No, I ... rarely see the tenants. I am just feeling somewhat...'

'Out of sorts,' added Elizabeth.

Mr. Darcy turned to her, attempting to brush off her comments but actually irritated at having his mood analysed. She noticed his change immediately.

'I am sorry, Fitzwilliam. I should not have spoken so.'

He half smiled and took her hand. 'No mood is worth your censure, my dear. Now, please, I must be to my business. I would wish you to join me as soon as you are ready.'

He kissed her lightly and walked out. Elizabeth pulled a face and sighed. She sat down and the servant entered, asking if the master and mistress were finished. Elizabeth nodded and watched as the girl cleared up around her. After ten minutes of solitude, she rang for Mrs. Reynolds deciding that it was best to leave him alone and get on with her own business.

Mrs. Reynolds arrived ready to take notes and together they began with a list of the various meal options. Elizabeth conferred with her as to the usual selection and made only slight alterations, as she did not want to begin to change the very basis of the kitchens. There were questions to be answered regarding the way servants were to behave when the master and mistress were at various tasks throughout the house and finally there was the list of requirements needed for the kitchens and cellars. Elizabeth found herself grateful for once for having a mother who always spoke of her tasks, which enabled the girls to understand what might be needed. All in all Elizabeth was happy with her first day as mistress and felt that Mrs. Reynolds did not leave with any resentment. Having completed her tasks, she decided it was time to check on her husband.

She knocked gently at his library and heard no reply so she opened the door a little.

'Mr. Darcy?'

'Elizabeth, please come in.'

She walked over, kissed his cheek and sat down opposite him at his desk. 'And how is your morning my love?'

'I have let much lapse.'

'Then I shall leave you,' she said standing.

'Ah, no that is not necessary.'

She sat down again and he returned to his papers without a word. She chewed her lip as she watched him for a few minutes and then went to the bookcase to find something to read.

'Can I help you Elizabeth?' he asked.

'No, no, I will look myself.'

She walked along the shelves at eye level and tilted her head sideways to read the titles. Occasionally she pulled out a volume to sample it and then pushed it back in again. She moved slowly around and was at it for about ten minutes when she turned to him.

'Fitzwilliam, have you given any more thought to Lady Catherine?'

'Excuse me?'

'Lady Catherine, your aunt. I thought perhaps we could compose a letter from both of us.'

He looked up at her, puzzled that she had brought up the subject of his aunt.

'Elizabeth, might I ask why you are so determined to be in Lady Catherine's favour?'

'I do not wish for me to be in her favour as much as I wish for you to be reconciled with your family. Lady Catherine is very fond on you, my dear. You should not let this rest.'

'I have told you Elizabeth that my aunt has herself ended it. Her journey to see you, to...to insult you in such a way, followed by her trip to see me, was quite enough. I will not tolerate her influence any more in my life.'

Feeling his anger, she walked over and stood behind him, putting her hands on his shoulders. 'I did not wish to make you angry, Fitzwilliam.'

He placed his right hand on hers and without looking up he said, 'I know that, Elizabeth. However there seems nothing to say on the subject of Lady Catherine without stirring my anger.'

'And that is why we must attempt to resolve this.'

'I see no possible resolution.'

'But...'

'But nothing!'

'Fitzwilliam, would it hurt to try?'

He gave a heavy sigh. 'Elizabeth ... I do not need more insults from my aunt.'

'I am sure that was only in reaction to you not choosing her daughter. I am sure she does not wish to never speak to you again.'

'You ask too much, madam.'

'But I do not ask more than you can give,' she replied. 'If you act as if her visits and letters never happened then you will prove yourself so much better than her. And...knowing Lady Catherine...well...'

'I can never ignore what she did, Elizabeth.'

'But can you forget it for a while, for me? It has been over two months since her visit to me.'

'And it is much less time since her letter on our marriage. Oh...you must not manipulate me.'

'Then may I persuade you?'

'You expect me to write to her?'

'If you wish.'

He gave a cynical laugh. 'I am beginning to think I have no choice in this.'

'Of course you do ... but it would please me if you would write.'

'I woke this morning in a bad mood and was determined to end it by getting through these papers. Instead I am being coerced by a sweet smile and a determined nature to do something that I really do not want to do. This will not improve my mood, madam.'

'Ah but it will improve your very nature which will in the end mean an improvement in mood.'

'Elizabeth, your logic escapes me.'

'Perhaps you are unable to keep up.'

'Keep up? Are you challenging me to another of your verbal duels, my dear?'

'Mr. Darcy, how could you think me capable of such distraction? I will sit quietly while you write your letter.'

'I have never said that I would write.'

'I am sure that you did,' she said archly.

He shook his head and picked up a fresh sheet. Meanwhile Elizabeth lowered her head and smiled.

His letter was sent the following morning along with Elizabeth's replies to her own post. It was a simple letter of news of their arrival at Pemberley and really nothing more. Mr. Darcy made no reference to anything said between himself and his aunt. Elizabeth was happy simply that he had sent it. She could ask no more.

Georgiana arrived at the end of their second week at Pemberley and found a festive and exuberant household. Pemberley was full of the smells of Christmas and the buoyant moods of its occupants who awaited her at the door.

'Fitzwilliam!' said Miss Darcy as he helped her down from the carriage.

'My dear,' he replied as he hugged her. Elizabeth came down to bow to his sister but instead was grasped for a similar hug. Together the three went inside to the main reception room where Elizabeth had organised a pleasurable feast of small food.

'Oh it is so good to be home,' said Miss Darcy on entering. 'The rooms look so different.'

'All due to my wife, I think,' said Mr. Darcy. 'Elizabeth has moved some small pieces and altered the arrangement of some of the ornaments.'

'I hope you do not mind,' said Elizabeth to both of them.

'Not at all,' said Mr. Darcy, followed by a shake of the head from his sister. 'It is refreshing to see the brightness you have brought to the rooms. I think Georgiana and I were both afraid to touch anything after the loss of our parents.'

'Indeed,' said Miss Darcy. 'But it is wonderful Elizabeth, simply wonderful.'

Elizabeth smiled inwardly. She had felt great difficulty in her choices but after some days looking at the old fashioned arrangement of the furniture, she had broached the subject with Mr. Darcy and he had been delighted with the slight changes.

'Would you like some refreshment, Georgiana?' asked Elizabeth. 'There is tea and coffee with cake and fruit.'

'I have never seen such a delicious array. I will have tea and perhaps some cake.'

Elizabeth moved to serve her new sister while Mr. Darcy began questioning her about her time away. He had a special motive in this by wishing to know if news of his letter to Lady Catherine had been spread throughout the family. Georgiana had heard her cousin Edward speak of it to his wife and it seemed that Lady Catherine was a little curious how things were going at Pemberley.

Later that evening he spoke of it to Elizabeth, who took it as an auspicious sign. It was the following day that they received a reply from the lady, in a tone as curt and direct as her nephew's original. However it was enough and Elizabeth pressed for him to return it with a little more news of Pemberley and perhaps a question or two as to Anne's health. He composed his tome quickly and although his tone was less friendly than Elizabeth would have liked, it was at least something.

Georgiana settled into her own rooms very quickly and made no mention of wishing to leave again. This suited Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy as they had so wished to give her the regulation of a proper home. She enjoyed the daily contact with her brother's wife and the change in him. It was some three days after her arrival that she joined them after supper.

'Well, my dear,' began her brother, 'do you intend to stay with us?'

'If you will have me. Or at least until you are sick of me,' replied Miss Darcy.

'Oh we will never be sick of you,' said Mr. Darcy. 'Will we Elizabeth?'

'Indeed we shall not! Georgiana, would you play for us?'

'If you wish. Although I have not heard you in some months.'

'But your brother has and it is time he heard his sister.'

'Do you love Pemberley, Elizabeth?' asked Miss Darcy.

'Oh yes. How could I not? It is your brother's home, after all.'

Mr. Darcy, sitting with a book, had become preoccupied with his own thoughts and was not listening. Miss Darcy leaned towards Elizabeth.

'Perhaps we should take our conversation elsewhere. My brother wishes to read in peace.'

'I am sure he can continue to read with us present,' said Elizabeth with a smile.

'But I would not wish to disturb him,' said Miss Darcy in a whisper.

'Disturb him. We are only talking and your brother is quite used to my voice by now.' Looking directly at him, Elizabeth raised her voice a little. 'Are we disturbing you my dear?'

He looked up, still unsure of what she had said.

'I am sorry Elizabeth, I did not hear you.'

'You see we could never disturb him once he has a book to his liking,' said Elizabeth to Miss Darcy. 'He is quite determined to ignore us.'

'I would never ignore you, my dear.'

'On that I must remain silent myself, as to reply might cause your sister to think we do not get on at all well.'

Miss Darcy looked greatly uncomfortable at Elizabeth's words.

'Ah, so you think that I do ignore you,' said Mr. Darcy.

'I said nothing of the sort.'

'But you implied it.'

'I rarely imply anything.'

'True, you do tend to the direct. Thus I must concur that you think me ignorant of you at times.'

'You may take whatever meaning you wish.'

He looked across into her sparkling and defiant eyes and found his mood changing completely.

'As long as it coincides with yours,' he replied with just as much defiance.

'I would never suggest that you agree with me on all things.'

'I would never expect you do. However you do often wish me to agree with your moods,' he said.

'I simply do not like to see you brood.'

'I do not brood,' he replied, lifting his chin to her as they both ignored the presence of Miss Darcy.

'You do and you know you do but it is not up to me to point out the obvious,' said Elizabeth with more than a hint of laughter.

He rose and walked to her, taking her hand and kissing it. Meanwhile Miss Darcy had been turning her head from one to the other, quite amazed at the openness of their conversation and the liveliness with which Elizabeth spoke to her brother. What was more amazing was the way he responded. In all she was simply astounded at the relationship of these two people so dear to her.

After kissing her hand, Mr. Darcy pulled Elizabeth to her feet. Turning to his sister, he bowed slightly.

'My dear, I find myself quite weary and I know Elizabeth feels the same. I think it is all this business that we have had to take care of. Would you like me to escort you to your rooms? I would not wish to leave you alone down here.'

Georgiana smiled and stood. 'Thank you, Fitzwilliam. I am tired myself. Perhaps I can play for you another evening.'

Mr. Darcy took an arm of each lady and walked upstairs and along to Miss Darcy's rooms. There he kissed her hand. 'Good night, my dear sister. I cannot tell you what joy it brings me to have you here with us.'

'Oh yes,' added Elizabeth. 'Good night Georgiana.'

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy both gave her a warm smile before quickly turning away and walking hand in hand down the hall. Georgiana watched them go and saw them hesitate in front of Elizabeth's rooms before proceeding directly to his. She blushed as she saw her brother sweep his wife inside.

'Fitzwilliam, we should not have been so direct with your sister,' said Elizabeth as he closed the door.

'Direct? I was tired as were you.'

'Oh Fitzwilliam, she was as aware as I that your apparent tiredness was simply a justification for retiring early.'

'And what better one is there?'

'I cannot face her in the morning.'

'I am sure you will,' he replied. 'Come. I need you my love.'

He led her to a chair near the fire while he instructed his man to leave them for the night. With staff dismissed he went back to her and bent to kiss her deeply. She responded with intense passion for him and very quickly they were beside the bed, assisting each other with undressing.

'You continue to astound me, madam,' he said as she removed his shirt.

'You have said that often.'

'What astounds me is the way your words are enough to raise my desire for you. Before...I had never thought how much they influence my moods. I need only hear you to want you.'

'Oh already I have become old and wrinkled,' she laughed.

'Your body is a reflection of your mind, my love. Come, I must have you.'

They made love quickly and passionately, expelling their energies in their love for each other. She slept with him all night in what had begun as a newness and had now become normal. Her bed was only used throughout their marriage for those times when he was away or either was ill.

Their Christmas was spent with the three of them enjoying a wonderful day followed by an hilarious Boxing Day as the staff received their monetary gifts along with a specially selected novelty chosen by Elizabeth. Her small keepsakes had everyone smiling broadly. The day after they had the fortune of a visit by Colonel Fitzwilliam who had news of the remainder of the family. His brother and wife were well and quite intrigued to be invited to Pemberley and Lady Catherine had written to her brother, the Colonel's father, suggesting she might visit Pemberley sometime in the new year when the weather permitted it.

As the Colonel spoke, Mr. Darcy turned to Elizabeth with a quiet look of knowing. It seemed she had begun to win his family back for him. During this time, Elizabeth also received word that her aunt and uncle hoped to visit in March followed by a long visit from Kitty over the summer.

It was near the middle of March that Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy received a letter to say that Lady Catherine would be in Derby and would visit. Both knowing that she would never travel that far for any other reason than to investigate their lives, they prepared for her visit with some trepidation. Miss Darcy was also tense about the visit as she was sure she would be given instruction as to what she should be doing with her life and when she should come out.

Lady Catherine arrived with a full entourage, managing to attract the attention of every passerby during her journey. Her new carriage, built especially for this trip and no doubt to ensure her superiority, was deep green with gold burnishing. The horses were all dark brown and the footmen and drivers wore green livery. There were lamps at every corner, shining brass fittings and deep velvet seats.

'Good afternoon, aunt,' said Mr. Darcy as she alighted from the carriage.

'Good afternoon, Darcy. I must say you have done nothing to the grounds, sir. They are as simple as the day your father died. Your mother would never change him in his habits.'

'I am sure my mother approved of the grounds also, aunt. Elizabeth, come.' He turned to Elizabeth who had chosen to remain behind him a little, which should show his aunt that she knew her proper place.

'Lady Catherine,' said Elizabeth as she bowed deeply.

'Mrs. Darcy!' was all Lady Catherine said.

They walked inside to the main reception room where Elizabeth had ordered an extraordinary display of tea things. The porcelain and silver was at its best lustre and the food was varied but not extravagant.

'I was hoping Anne would accompany you, aunt,' said Mr. Darcy.

'Oh not in this weather. I told her so. It is far too cold up here in the north for a constitution such as Anne's. It is very warm in here!'

'We thought that you may be a little chilled from the journey,' said Elizabeth. 'Would you like tea, Lady Catherine?'

'Yes. Oh Georgiana, there you are. Quiet as usual. Never a word. I always say you are just like Anne.'

Elizabeth could not help but roll her eyes discreetly at Georgiana as she began to pour. She handed the cup and saucer to Lady Catherine followed by the milk and sugar bowls. The elderly woman took from each of them silently with barely a glance at Elizabeth. When offered cake by her nephew she scowled.

'What are you doing Darcy? I could never abide a man offering plates. That is why one marries!'

Completely ignoring her censure, he said, 'Would you like some cake, aunt?'

'She took a piece and before biting into it, she turned it over to examine its texture.'

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy looked between each other as she scrutinized it, with Elizabeth giving a slight shrug of her shoulders. As Lady Catherine bit into it they both held their breath as Georgiana attempted to hide a small smile. Apparently it was satisfactory as she finished it quickly and made no further comment. She did, however, spend the entire time watching Elizabeth carefully as she ordered more tea, dealt with Mrs. Reynolds and attended to her husband and guests. There was a degree of tut-tutting as she saw Elizabeth smile quite often at her nephew.

'So you are married, Darcy!'

'A point you have known for some time, madam.'

'And it has changed you.'

'I am sure it has only brought about those changes necessary for the happiness of the married state.'

'Hmmm, perhaps. But it is the job of the wife to maintain her husband's position. I hear that you have had visitors from town, Cheapside to be precise.'

'Well not as yet, aunt. Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner are due to arrive in two weeks. If you are still here you will meet them.'

'And what of Georgiana? She cannot be left in the company of your wife's relations.'

Elizabeth saw Mr. Darcy suck in a deep breath. She moved to place her hand on his shoulder.

'My aunt and uncle met Miss Darcy in Hertfordshire during the week of the wedding. They are very fond of her,' said Elizabeth.

'And we are both fond of them, Lady Catherine,' said Mr. Darcy. 'They have proved the very best of relations to both of us.'

'Hmmm, but it is early days. I hope you have not changed the house around, Mrs. Darcy.'

'I have not, madam. The changes I have made are slight indeed. Pemberley is very beautiful as it is.'

'Yes, well see that it remains so. I still think the grounds need some attention, Darcy. There is nothing to the boundaries. It is all wandering and random.'

'As I like it, Lady Catherine.'

'I think I shall rest before the evening. Darcy, show me to my rooms. The west as usual, I presume.'

'Yes, aunt,' was his reply as he took her arm and escorted her upstairs.

'Oh my, Elizabeth. I must apologise for our aunt,' said Miss Darcy as soon as they had left.

'Oh it is nothing I had not expected. I am just happy that she chose to visit. The worst is over.'

Georgiana smiled, unable to reply or understand how Elizabeth could so easily brush aside her aunt.

'Come help me inspect the table for this evening,' said Elizabeth. 'We can have nothing out of place.'

The two ladies left together and when the bell rang later that evening, there was nothing that could be criticised by Lady Catherine. The meal was superb, showing off the best of Pemberley's produce. After retiring to the music room, they were thrilled to have Georgiana volunteer to play for them all.

'You seem very happy with yourself, Mrs. Darcy,' said Lady Catherine as Miss Darcy played.

'I am, madam. I have a loving husband; a brand new sister and soon I will be visited by my aunt and uncle and then my sisters. Both Jane, now Mrs. Bingley, and my younger sister Katherine will be visiting us in the next few months.'

'Oh Bingley! How is Bingley, Darcy?'

'Very well, madam. He resides in Hertfordshire but we have word that he may be looking to purchase in Derbyshire or nearby.'

'Is he not happy with Hertfordshire?'

'I think he wishes his wife to be nearer her sister.'

'Hmmmph!'

Miss Darcy was just finishing her second piece when there was commotion heard at the door and very soon the man came to announce the arrival of Mr. Bennet, the father of Mrs. Darcy. To say they were all surprised was an understatement but Lady Catherine was disgusted that Elizabeth's father would come unannounced.

For Elizabeth, it was pure joy to see her father again. His visit was explained as nothing more than impulse and they had no reason to doubt that. Whatever were the causes it was a delight and although he seemed astounded at the behaviour of Lady Catherine, together they made for great entertainment during their joint week as houseguests. Fortunately it was rare that Mr. Bennet's surprise visits coincided with those of Lady Catherine.

Mr. Bennet watched Mr. Darcy in much the same way that Lady Catherine watched Elizabeth and together the newly married couple grew to a greater understanding of each other. They were often seen escaping the company of their relatives for no other reason than the need for themselves.

Although it was said by some that Mr. Darcy had changed, he really had not as few us ever do. Instead he had rearranged his behaviour, avoiding the situations that might cause angst for them both. Thus they chose to reside mainly at home in Derbyshire where their companions could be chosen and not foisted on them.

To outsiders, they realised they would always hold some interest with none of the opposite family quite understanding the attraction of the other. Mr. Darcy continued to brood and be silent for much longer than seemed necessary and Elizabeth continued to fill in the void of his silences with lively chatter and charming wit. They openly disagreed on many things but each was over quickly and without rancour and although Elizabeth continued to bait him with looks and words quite beyond the normal form of a wife, he smiled and adored her just as she took his moods as simply part of his passion for all things.

And when there was any disagreement that caused the room to quieten, he often looked across at her and they smiled immediately, joined in a strange camaraderie found in all the great unions.

Elizabeth grew as a wife and mother, learning the fine art of mediation and discipline within the confines of a marriage based on affection. She loved it all and often dwelled on her fortune in finding such a man who was willing to have her at all costs.

Mr. Darcy revelled in his life, knowing that he had chosen well, not only for himself but also for the good of his family and his estate. He marvelled at Elizabeth's practicality as well as her deference and he was besotted with her company. They loved openly yet modestly expecting others to accept their affection in a world not often aware of it. He rarely had the chills of his youth and he no longer found others who seemed happier than he. He danced slightly more often but only when pushed and he still chose the perimeter of large and crowded rooms. But he no longer was seen to brood alone as most often his face was turned to his wife who managed to capture his eyes with a brief glance.

They were seldom seen at assemblies as although it was well known that the prior Miss Elizabeth Bennet, now Mrs. Darcy, loved assemblies, her husband did not and she had found that her passion for them had somehow been replaced by her passion for her husband with whom she honed her wit and twisted her topics to suit her experience which became greatly enhanced by his education and connections. And it became so natural to her that she failed to even realise that she now lived in a world where intellect was the attribute most admired. She simply grew in being noticed by him as he grew in the knowledge of her.

And so they allowed each other to begin the slow and lifelong process of marriage in its finest form. They passed no judgement. They accepted the minutiae of the other and more importantly they left aside the differences to be dealt with through time. They treasured their love in various ways, from the delicate scent of her rooms to the well-worn arm on his chair. In the end their lives were the summation of their courtship, a strange melding of often-disparate minds.

It was not a perfect life as no life can be. But it was blissful as much or more than it was painful and no man could ask for more.

Behind the Scenes

I have been asked by a number of people for information about the writing of this piece.

It is, or was, simply a task of pleasure. Pride and Prejudice has long been my favourite book and for quite a few decades I have had copies in various place of my life. Thus my analysis and take on the goings on between the lines or behind the scenes has fascinated me and this is my interpretation of them.

The piece was written on the fly with rarely a chapter being ready much before posting. I find I write best as a crammer, hurrying to complete the task before deadline. Although there really is no deadline for on-line posting, I cannot rid myself of the need to keep the reader interested. In fact it becomes an overwhelming obligation that I cannot forget. This is obviously the habit of a reasonable career reliant on deadlines.

There have been no beta readers to thank as there have been no beta readers. I am experienced with the pain of being edited as much as I am with the process of editing others and thus chose to take myself through the task as I wrote. However this experience also forces one to think well and hard before putting fingers to keyboard and I found that most chapters were written almost right through with little changes taking place on subsequent readings.

There are a few errors. There always are. It is well known in publishing that one never reads one's first copy of a book. Own it at least six months before attempting it, as the mistakes seem less worrisome then.

Thank you all for your comments. To consistently read a piece over a year is an awesome undertaking and for those who have stayed with it, I salute you. To comment on each or most chapters is extraordinary. No author can hope for more than you all have given

The End