There was nothing better or more special to Elizabeth than being the newly wed wife of Darcy. It was the ultimate fulfillment of her sex. In more ways than one. Ohlala.

She felt joy in even the simplest tasks, like opening up the window in the early morning and letting the dust fly out as she watched the sun rise.

She washed and put on her dress and prettied herself up, curling her hair into tight little rings and pinching her cheeks rosy with her fingernails. She cleaned under her fingernails and pursed her lips.

She dusted off the window seal with her duster, boots knocking on the hard wood as she twirled in her skirts. She wanted it perfect before Darcy woke up.

She tossed her head over her shoulder with a small grin, and his eye lids fluttered as she finished. She tiptoed and put the duster away before going downstairs and making breakfast. He woke up to the smell of eggs and chicken and bacon.

"Oh my darling wife!' He said as he went down the stairs quickly. He tripped but she caught him, and he hugged her in a manly way.

'My savior' he said, patting her shoulder. They went over to the table and she wiped it off with a wet cloth before serving the food.

She put down the utensils and they started eating, but not before Darcy got up and opened her chair for her, pushing it back in after she sat down. They ate the food in a cheerful gleeful silence, both under the blissful spell of being a newly married couple.

It brought such joy to both of them

After they were done she got the dishes and picked up both bowls, carrying them to the bucket with the cloth, and cleaned them, humming a gleeful tune. Darcy went over to his desk and started on his very important work.

There day went on kind of separate after that and Elizabeth missed him. She sighed as she sewed a maternity dress, switch after stich. It was a blue color, of a fancy, expensive fabric. She'd be the prettiest pregnate lady for a far way.

She thought about how she missed her family living in her own house. Even if she was going to start one of her own... She wouldn't have proper female company for many years until her daughters grew.

She stared to get sort of teary eyed and her chest hurt. More tears leaked and she started sobbing. She sobbed for a great while, thinking of the past. Oh how she loved Mr. Darcy, but how she loved her family. She wished things could be like that again, yet was so happy at the same time. The feelings conflicted her, as she knew as a wife she shouldn't feel them. Yet she was a woman, human, and no one could be perfect. It was normal to feel things you didn't think was sensible in your mind.

And she wasn't in a room with yellow wallpaper.

Then all of a sudden, Mr. Darcy surprised her, sneaking up behind her and wrapping his arms around her, giving her a huge ole bear hug! he hugged her from behind and swirled her around, and she gave a feminine laugh. She hugged him back no longer feeling sad or lonley and sobbing, and he kissed her forehead. He then patted her head.

"Be a dear and finish that later darling," he said

"Yes, my beloved husband," Elizabeth said, hiccuping from crying.

Then he grabbed her hand and pulled her out into a feild and they ran out and skipped around and danced for a long while. Skipping and hopping and twirling. Elizabeth wished it would never end. This was when she was happiest. This was what their first moment of love was like. She felt like she could cry again, this time not from sadness, but joy.

Then Mr. Darcy had to go back to work. He sat at his desk and storted out stuff and answered many a letter. There were a great many. And

Elizabeth was sad but they walked back holding hands stepping on the grass and slippery cold dew, and thankfully not on snakes! That would have been a dreadful and sad ending to their lovely story.

Then they returned home and he sat at his desk and dipped his feathered quill pen in jars of ink to write, and sorted out stuff, thought out stuff, and answered many a letter. There were a great many, as he was quite a busy man. And an important one. Too budy for them to dance all the time, or as often as she wanted.

She told herself dancing would get boring after a while, and this kept it special.

And she continued seweing her maternity dress, stitch after stitch, humming to herself; getting ready for their future bundle of joy that would eventually come. She sighed. Mother hood would be very difficult, but Darcy would be there to give her hugs of support, or help guide it if it was a boy. She wanted a girly, secretly. It would be fun to dress her up and pass on her womanly arts. They'd paint and embroider.

If she could get pregnate...

She wasn't getting pregnate...

She cried many a tear and Darcy patted her on top of the head. She wrote a letter to the doctor. Darcy hugged her and she cooked and sewed and did much singing to take her mind off of it. It took a month of nervous waiting and trying but he came out, arriving in the rain with a carriage.

The doc stepped out. A white-haired man with a big nose. He had wisdom in his eyes as deep as his nose was big. He poked her stomatch and did tests, before looking up and finally announcing that all was thankfully fine! She curtsied and thanks him, and they had a meal before he left.

They just needed to try harder. Ohlala.

After she cleaned up the meal and washed the dishes, Mr. Darcy picked up his beautiful wife and she was very happy when he carried her up to their bed chamber. Ohlala.