Hey guys! I apologise for the long wait for the next chappie of "From the Heart", but this little one-shot is supposed to tide you guys over. Yes, it's official, my muse has left the country. I'm working on it. Anyway, this is a random little thing that came out of my weird little mind after reading "Pride and Prejudice" for the thousandth time. Enjoy.
Musings of Mrs Darcy
I had often wondered what it would be like to be married. The many examples of marriage around me were less than satisfactory, and eventually, I made a vow to myself that I would never marry unless for love. I had always been so certain that no eligible man could love me for who I was, that I had almost resigned myself to the fact that I would end an old maid. I was not saddened by the notion; Lord, no. I had come to the conclusion that a life without a true love, did not have to be devoid of love altogether-- no, indeed. Regardless of my circumstances, I knew that Jane would always support me in any way possible, and although the rest of my family were often the cause of my distress, I knew that they too, loved me unconditionally.
Yet, I had never expected a third party in my life. I had hoped for love and marriage, of course, for it was the only secure path open to a young woman without fortune. But I had never expected it. My hopes diminished completely after the second marriage proposal I received, for although Mr Darcy had offered me a life of security and elevated status, I did not love him; I despised him beyond words, if truth be told. Had I been informed that I would be mistress of Pemberley before the year was complete, I would most certainly have not believed it, and if I had, I would have found the notion utterly repulsive.
Of course, Darcy often takes delight in reminding me of that fateful afternoon, and I know that although the manner in which I refused him has been forgiven, it will never be forgotten. I cannot think about it without abhorrence, and I know that Darcy feels similarly about the manner of his proposal. As he takes delight in vexing me, I take delight in vexing him, but he is always much more uncomfortable about his past behaviour than myself.
I wake up frequently in the night, wondering where I am, but it is only a fleeting moment before I remember. Each night as I gaze at my husband, deep in his slumber, I remind myself of my good fortune, and vow to be eternally grateful for this gift that has been bestowed to me.
I had often wondered what it would be like to be married, but I had no idea it would be so fulfilling.
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ETA: I changed the last word from "blissful" to "fulfilling" as watsonkat very kindly suggested. Thanks! Many thanks to all my other reviewers. I would like to continue this, but I have no ideas for a plot so feel free to suggest any ideas that you have.
Keep reviewing!