'Miss Elizabeth Bennet no longer,' Lizzy smiled happily up at her husband of one hour.

Together, they had climbed into the open topped carriage. The snow lay around them on the ground like a soft white blanket. Three miles down the road stood their destination, Netherfield Park. Tonight, the wedding night, they would spend secluded in that grand home with Mr and Mrs Charles Bingley. Neither Lizzy nor Darcy expected to see much of the other couple after arriving. Caroline and the Hurst's returned directly to London, giving the newlyweds a week alone. They would all come together for Christmas then be off to Pemberley for the remainder of the winter.

'Mrs Fitzwilliam Darcy,' the man at her side returned an easy grin. Blue eyes shining with merriment, he lent down and kissed his bride softly on the cheek. 'I promise kisses in other places later, Elizabeth,' he whispered, allowing his wife to lace her fingers through his.

'Lizzy,' Janes voice intruded upon the happy memory.

Elizabeth couldn't raise herself to answer. She felt weighed down, sluggish and extremely tired. Trying to open her eyes, they refused to separate even a crack. The best she could do to answer her sister's summons consisted of a low groan.

'Is she awake?' came the concerned but disembowelled voice of someone Lizzy didn't know.

'She's trying to stir,' Jane sounded sad.

'Let your sister be,' Lizzy knew it wasn't her mother nor any of her other sisters. 'The doctor said she'll wake when her mind is ready.'

'What,' Elizabeth tried to scream, 'has happened to me!'

Memories flooded back. The relationship between herself and her husband had not been easy that first year. They'd needed time to come to know each other.

'How,' she'd stated to her father when the Bennet family arrived to Pemberley for her second Christmas as Mrs Darcy, 'could two such independent and strong willed people live happily ever after. This is not a fairy tale, Papa. My impertinence and wish to know all that occurs on the estate will always cause Darcy both delight and vexation. His pride sometimes becomes an issue. Together we muddle through.'

'But are you happy,' Mr Bennet requested.

'Happier than I ever thought possible,' Lizzy laughed at her father's sad expression. 'You shall not be getting me home again, except to visit. We plan to come to you for Christmas next year.'

'And now,' the older man sighed, a wistful expression covering his face, 'we are to lose Jane and Bingley from the neighbourhood also.'

'They have taken Meadowbrook Hallow,' Elizabeth couldn't withhold her joy at having her sister but fifteen miles away. 'There Jane shall enter her second confinement.'

Jane, it seemed, fell with child on her wedding night. Nine months later little Elizabeth Anne arrived. Now four months old, Jane suspected she was with child again. There would scare be a year between babes. For her part, Mrs Bingley did not mind at all. Charles worried for his wife. Elizabeth reminded herself to speak with Jane about the powders the midwife could supply to stop more children until she wanted another.

'What of you, Lizzy,' her father looked to her very swollen belly.

'The new Master of Pemberley will enter this world in early February,' she laid a hand on her stomach. 'It will be a few years before this little one is to expect a brother or sister.'

'You are not in charge of that, Lizzy,' Mr Bennet reminded. His daughter simply smiled.

'Lizzy,' Mr Bennet called her again.

Elizabeth couldn't quite understand where the voice originated. The room seemed dark, a soft light infused from the window. Yet the defuse illumination had a harsh tone to it and the window lay in a different orientation to the one in her sleeping chamber at Pemberley.

'Where am I,' Lizzy didn't recognise her voice. It sounded hoarse.

'Nurse,' her father cried.

The sound of running feet, a beeping, softened so as not to offend, a low rumble and hum all surrounded Elizabeth. Strange, she thought, why did I not hear these sounds before and what could possibly be making them.

'Elizabeth,' a strange voice seemed to shout in her ear, blocking out any others. Then came the cloying smell of perfume. The woman must have drenched herself in sent, and not of even a moderate expense.

Trying to push the servant away, Lizzy attempted to call for her husband. They ignored her, requesting instead she open her eyes and look at them. Wanting to yell, I am trying, Elizabeth placed all her effort into rising from the darkness. Then came the startling light shining directly at her. First her left then her right eyes where unceremoniously forced open only to have the woman blind Lizzy.

'I'll get Jane,' Mr Bennet stated.

Scraping, shuffling, more inconsequential noise until eventually Jane, dearest Jane held her hand. 'Lizzy,' she pleaded, 'open your eyes and look at me.'

It took all her effort, but Elizabeth determined to see her sister. Slowly the haze came into focus. Blond haired Jane stood before her. Concern laced her hazel orbs. Face lined, the woman wore no powders and strange clothing.

'What,' licking her lips, a tube became trust at her lips.

'Oh Lizzy, drink,' Jane requested. 'You've been unconscious for days. You must be parched.'

'What happened,' Elizabeth asked, still concentrating on the face and straw.

'You've been in a car accident,' Jane explained.

And then everything came completely and utterly into focus. 'What day is it,' Lizzy managed to ask.

Both Mr Bennet and Jane knew exactly what their loved one asked. The older man nodded to his daughter. She should be the one to break the news.

'William McDarcy married a week ago, Lizzy,' Jane held her hand tighter. 'I'm sorry. I know how much you've always loved him.'

'The accident,' she queried.

'You couldn't have stopped him marrying Caroline Bingley any more than that woman would have let me into the family,' Jane sighed with regret. 'We're just from very different worlds.'

'Even if you're carrying Charles Bingley's bastard son,' Lizzy spat, turning her head away.

'We both know it could never be,' Jane allowed a single tear to travel down her face before pulling herself together. 'Lizzy, you have to get better. I need your help. You and Dad are all I have now.'

Nodding, Elizabeth Bennet made herself a promise. She would never love again, not like the love she'd freely given Will McDarcy. Blue blooded, rich beyond words, use a girl and then marry within your social circle Will McDarcy. Honestly she'd thought Charles Bingley better than that but it seemed all rich folk were tarred with the same brush. It turned out Charles Bingley had been married, well technically separated when he seduced Jane only to return to his wife.

Over the years, Lizzy watched the society pages and took a passing interest in those families. Caroline bore Will the three children he'd always wanted. Two boys and a girl, educated at the best school. Charles returned to a loveless marriage but fought a very public battle with drug addiction, eventually passing away of a heart attack at the age to thirty nine. He never claimed his son with Jane nor left him anything in his will.

Jane eventually married and man with two daughters. The blended family accepted another son after two years together. They didn't exactly live happily ever after, but as blissfully as anyone could claim given the nature of the relationships. And Lizzy, well, she wrote her story, at least what she could remember of the regency dream. It became a best seller under the name Jane Austen and her admiring public clamoured for more. When she finally published a sequel many years later, a young girl approached for the author to sign her copy.

'Who would you like me to make it too,' Lizzy smiled at the fifteen year old. The eyes made her gulp as she remembered another pair from her past.

'Elizabeth McDarcy,' the young girl seemed shy. 'I can't help but see my father in your romantic regency hero, Fitzwilliam Darcy. Have you ever met him Miss Austen? His name is William McDarcy.'

'I don't believe I have,' Lizzy lied, forcing a smile to her lips. 'Next.'