Late November, 1812

The first snow of the year had yet to fall over Hertfordshire. Dry, the autumn had been. Almost all the russet-hued leaves had been swept away over the countryside, but some still clung to their saplings like shivering newborns to their mothers.

A warm front had pervaded Meryton, and its residents bustled about town to take advantage of the last agreeable day before the bitterness of winter would affront them all. The gentlemen not yet having migrated to London for the season, which included those at Netherfield Park, found the local game enjoying the sunshine as much their neighbors, and so spent a prosperous morning bringing them to heel.

Later on, the owner of Netherfield, Mr. Bingley, and his closest compatriot, Mr. Darcy, had their horses rigged and readied before they rode their steeds astride to the home of their soon-to-be brides, Miss Jane and Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

At Longbourn, they were welcomed as enthusiastically as ever by the exuberant Mrs. Bennet, who grinned and gushed about their fast-approaching wedding less than four and twenty hours away. So beautiful, she said, and so elegant it would be, that the whole of the county would wish they could dream up half such a wedding ceremony. In between her bouts of rapture, she gave various orders to Kitty, Mary, Hill, and the other servants involving miscellaneous preparations for the following day. Somehow, and rather impressively, Mrs. Bennet managed to maintain her train of thought, more so than the poor young men, particularly Mr. Bingley, feeling it necessary to gratify his future mother-in-law with at least comprehension of her ramblings, could follow. But, as Elizabeth and Jane had informed them, Mrs. Bennet could keep a conversation afloat all by herself with no interjections on their parts being required.

After having endured much of Mrs. Bennet's gabbing, the eldest Miss Bennets took pity on their fiancés. They announced they must take the most enjoyment they can from such a gorgeous day as this one and extended an offer to the gentlemen to join them. Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy could hardly refuse, and mutually thought there could be no greater combination than the pleasantness of the day and the girls' company.

They quitted Longbourn and took to its park, where the ladies and gentlemen paired with their respective future husband or wife. Darcy and Elizabeth watched Jane and Bingley walk well ahead of them.

After a moment of companionable silence, Elizabeth said, "I apologize for the chaos that is running amuck in our halls. My mother has been in ecstasy for this week past without any sure sign of it ever diminishing."

"As was made clear by you and your sister's absences the last time Bingley and I tried to call," Darcy pointed out.

"Oh, yes, not once, but twice!" Elizabeth recounted. "Mama had taken Jane and I to town for fittings, but it took us hours before my mother was satisfied! We were thoroughly exhausted afterwards." She glanced to him with apology in her fine eyes. "Hill said you waited for an hour before you were resigned. Is that true?"

"Yes," he granted as he smiled, "but be assured, it did not seem so tediously long. Your father kept us preoccupied."

She nodded. "He did mention that in passing. What did you talk of?"

"Of various subjects."

She smirked and quirked her eyebrows. "Hmm, naturally!"

His smile broadened, and Elizabeth found it made his visage all the more pleasing. He had always born such a serious and stoic countenance at public assemblies, and even when he would come to call with Mr. Bingley at the beginning of their acquaintance. She gathered, based on his confession about his upbringing, that because he was a preeminent member of polite society, he must have been trained to conceal emotion. Coupled with the fact that he was rather introverted by nature, she delighted in the idea that he could be put so at ease around her that he would let his mask fall.

"Well," Darcy added so as to compensate for his vagueness, "one topic that I found wholly unexpected was advice on the management of his estate."

She tilted her head. "Prompted by whom?"

Darcy hesitated. He had thought the "whom" would have been obvious, but he replied politely, "By Mr. Bennet."

Elizabeth seemed taken aback. "Did he?"

In an attempt to recover any poorly spoken words, he said, "I promise you, I did not lead him astray, nor would I ever. In fact, I would think I have many qualifications to recommend me as a consultant."

Elizabeth shook her head, bestowing on him a comforting smile. "Of course, you do, and I am very pleased he talked to you of all people, but I find the sheer fact he felt compelled enough to ask anyone about management of estate quite shocking!"

Darcy furrowed his brow. "Indeed?"

Her eyes widened. "Yes! He has always born the weight of all our finances on his shoulders. He has only just begun to confide in me about it, but only in small portions."

"That is not necessarily surprising, as he is the head of the family, and with no brothers or sons."

She wore a contemplative frown as she asked, "Are you suggesting that if he had a brother or son, he would have been more easily persuaded to share his burden?"

"I would not dare to presume on so brief an acquaintance. My observations are based merely on my personal experiences. Those in distinct positions of status, birthright, or profession find it almost natural to ally themselves with others their equal. It is also very natural to be drawn to those of the same sex; Men tend to endure the same trials as other men and I imagine it is likewise for women."

Elizabeth sighed. "I cannot refute your argument, sir. I have often felt that was the case when he would decide not to speak with me about particulars." Then she grinned at him again. "But I am glad to hear of these strokes of better judgement. He seems to be taking more of an interest in the goings-on around him, including those of his remaining daughters."

Darcy watched her, intrigued. "And that has not been usual of him?"

She met his gaze with amusement. "He finds my youngest sisters very silly, and often reminds them of it."

"I cannot say I have not had that thought occur to me before." He stiffened. "As… you were already aware."

Elizabeth smirked at his embarrassment. "Yes, as you so kindly made obvious to me at Hunsford!"

He ducked his head. "I still shudder when I think on the words I hurled at you then."

Taking his arm, she said to hearten him, "Don't fret on it anymore. Since matrimony is a sacrament and overseen by a clergyman, it only makes sense it will absolve you of all your sins after we're wed, as well as mine."

A wry grin crossed his mouth. "Are those the ideas that reassure you of our past transgressions?"

"Absolutely!" she said, her wit alive and abroad. "Does it not help build your anticipation?"

Darcy covered the hand on his arm. "I do not need any help on that count, my dear."

Though their hands were gloved, Elizabeth felt an elation at his touch. Sometimes she had to remind herself that this man, whom she had come to respect and admire as well as love, could adore her just the same. It only made her impatient for the wedding to take place, though she immediately felt ridiculous for thinking so. She had never thought she would crave so strongly to be married.

"Speaking of sisters," Darcy began, snapping Elizabeth out of her reverie, "Georgiana arrived at Netherfield this afternoon, just before Bingley and I were to ride."

Elizabeth smiled warmly. "And how is your sister? I hope the journey was not too arduous."

The sight of Elizabeth's admiration for his sister always gladdened him. She was just the kind of sister Georgiana needed. "She is well, and in high spirits for us both. She is much anticipating welcoming you to Pemberley as a sister."

The notion touched her heart. "Oh, dear Georgiana! As am I!" She then pursed her lips gravely. "For her sake, I hope not, but tell me honestly: Was she immediately set upon by Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst?"

Darcy chuckled. "Not as strongly as history has made you suppose."

"Really?" Elizabeth exclaimed, sarcasm seeping into her tone. "Are not Miss Bingley and Georgiana the best of friends?"

The corner of his mouth lifted morbidly. "So Miss Bingley has often liked to proclaim, and it is true she devoted much attention to my sister, who has always taken it with the most admirable grace. But I imagine Miss Bingley's feathers are a bit ruffled ever since she heard news of our engagement."

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed in teasing speculation. "She must think me to blame for luring you into so fatal a trap." Thinking on it more, she added sincerely, "I am still in awe of her desperate attempt—for it surely must have been very desperate—by running off to tell Lady Catherine about me, all in the hopes of preventing our union. I had not originally thought her capable of stooping to such depths."

"I did," he replied somberly. "It did not take Charles warning me of her intentions to make me aware of them; She has made them painfully obvious. I only tolerated her for Charles' sake."

Elizabeth asked, more curiously than jokingly, "Were you also aware of her and Mrs. Hurst's plans to arrange Mr. Bingley to Georgiana?"

"From the start," he retorted, "and I told Georgiana to pay them no mind. Charles is like a brother to her. Hardly any different sort of attachment could manifest in either of them."

Though she pouted, a potential laugh made her lips tremble. "Oh, poor Miss Bingley. Thwarted on both counts!"

Darcy's cutting gaze stared ahead. "You certainly have the more sympathizing heart. I could not even be induced to jest about her miserable folly."

"And that is why we are perfectly matched."

His expression relaxed as he met her eyes, and he mirrored her grin, one that seemed to always be finding something in the world diverting. After her fine brown eyes, the first attribute he had become entranced with was that very smile. Whenever it appeared, he would become desirous to know what had caused it, and now he was in a position where he could always find out.

"Darcy?"

He then realized he had been staring at her contentedly as his mind had wandered. Being caught at such a moment made him self-conscious. However, she—bless her understanding heart—was not looking at him queerly, but with an innocence. "Yes, Elizabeth?"

As she spoke, he saw that her artless veneer was deceptive. "I have asked you this before—"

"Lizzy—" he cut off sternly, though Elizabeth still overrode him.

"But I have to insist upon it! Please, let me tell my parents of what you did for Lydia—for us. It pains me to see my family treat you indifferently when they are indebted to you and do not even know it."

He continually admired her passion and forthrightness, but found this subject tried his patience. He replied factually, and with some derision, "Your mother's opinion of me certainly changed dramatically after she was informed of my proposal."

"That is how mama is," she said with a sigh, as though even speaking of her excitable, high-handed mother was taxing. "Prove yourself to be one of her daughters' prospective husbands, and you become the handsomest man she has ever laid eyes on. But papa still believes he must be grateful to my Uncle Gardiner. What if he tries to repay his debt? Will my uncle then pretend to be all graciousness to father, and then forward the checks to Pemberley?"

The absurdity of such an arrangement was not lost on him, and he countered steadfastly, "Your father has no need to consider himself indebted, especially in view of the circumstances."

"Only he does," came her decisive rebuttal. "If he knew our benefactor had been none other than the landlord and master of Pemberley, I could say with absolute certainty he would not be having to endure sleepless nights riddled with guilt."

A cynical eyebrow arched. "So that is it, then? You would like your family—which, given your mother's propensity to gossip, would mean the whole of England—to have the understanding that Wickham attained debts so large, your uncle could not possibly have been able to pay for them, and will almost surely renew them again in the near future… all in order to relieve Mr. Bennet of his guilt?"

Elizabeth matched his gaze without fear, and replied factually, "There is no law stating I cannot have more than one reason to urge my suit."

Darcy shook his head. "Lizzy, I have made myself quite clear: I do not seek to be gratified."

"But I seek for you to be gratified!" She gripped his arm in earnest. "Please, my dear Mr. Darcy, could you allow me to put my father at ease, and only my father? I can promise you, when warned, he will be sure my mother never hears word of the truth."

Miss Bennet looked up at him through her lashes, which wracked his heart to no small degree. He grimaced as his resolutions crumbled. "We are not yet married, and you have already begun exploiting my inability to refuse you."

With a mock-seriousness typical of her character, she said, "I vow not to take advantage of so lamentable a weakness, though I be severely tempted."

Darcy came to a stop and faced her fully. "You assume I think it a weakness?"

"My sincerest apologies! What, then, might, in your mind, an inability to refuse me be considered as?"

His sober exterior broke as he gave her a smile. "A delight. I am only too happy to accommodate you. Besides, you are never without reason."

"Only wait til we are wed," Elizabeth warned, a mischief making her eyes glitter, "and we shall see how you think then of my demands!"

By now, Bingley and Jane had taken to the bench in the garden, so Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves in the seclusion of the willow tree.

Darcy became moved by a thought. "Might I make an inquiry of my own?"

Humored, Elizabeth inclined her head. "Indeed, you may, Mr. Darcy."

"We both know well your deftness in being able to refuse me, and I still make no claims that you were not right to." He stepped enticingly closer. "However, I can't help but wonder if those powers of will have dwindled."

Elizabeth pursed her lips in an attempt to hide her smile, and eyed him with interest. "Now if I were to admit to that, my dear Darcy, at what advantage would I be?"

His voice dropped to a murmur, the tiniest grin only just visible. "Perhaps one that brings us both advantages."

Blush rose to her cheeks and a laugh escaped her, but she feinted, "Mr. Darcy! It would hardly be appropriate in my parents' garden!"

He released a sigh of regret. "Then I suppose we must wait. Until the alter, lovely Elizabeth." After bowing over her hand, he promptly departed.

Elizabeth stood with hand still aloft, blinking from the shock of his abruptness. She had immediately assumed he had been only bantering, but… had he truly been serious in his offer?

No, she absolved. I will not give him the satisfaction of knowing he can trick me.

And yet the idea took hold. She had felt many a time over the weeks since their engagement the compulsion to kiss him, and even had imagined how tender and romantic it would be. The thought drove her to frustration, for similar thoughts must have overrun Kitty's and Lydia's heads when the militia had stayed in Meryton. But it could only be considered natural, after all, when two people were intending to marry. Jane had admitted being victim to similar imaginings.

If he was willing… Who knew Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of all people would even be capable of such a lapse in propriety!

Elizabeth bit her lip and chastised herself all the same, but she cried out to his tall, escaping figure, "Mr. Darcy!"

He turned, wearing an expression of polite surprise. "Yes, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut, repining her following words. "I have a matter of importance to discuss with you."

He offered his hand and permitted, "By all means, come nearer so I may hear it."

Her lips became a thin line, and Darcy had to use all the might of his self-control to not allow his façade to crack.

"It is a private matter," she said with special emphasis. He was practically making her beg, the dreadful man!

Darcy purposely allowed the implications she intended to fly over his head. "Hmm. That is a problem, is it? That means I must join you where you stand, and in your parents' garden, no less. Is that your wish?"

Elizabeth's jaw tightened, her teeth on the verge of gritting together. "I would like that very much."

She spun around and strode to behind the tree trunk, and Darcy diligently followed.

"How might I serve, my darling Lizzy?" he asked most obligingly.

Not fooled for a moment by his manner, she crossed her arms and spoke with a fire in her eyes. "Delight in the glory of your victory, Mr. Darcy. I confess, though I still scruple with the fact even as we speak…" She took pause, but continued with grace and dignity, "… that I am incapable of denying you either."

Internally, Darcy reveled in her words and, as she had commanded, delighted in his success.

She then stepped implicitly closer, daring him with her stare. "Now… what have you intended to do about it?"

"Intended!" he exclaimed, mimicking her own shock moments before. "My dear Miss Bennet, though we are to be married only on the morrow, I am a gentleman, and you, a gentleman's daughter. We must remain chaste until our nuptials are secured."

She burst into melodious laughter. "Oh, you are a shameless tease!" came her reprimand. "I cannot believe I allowed myself to fall for such an act!"

Unphased, but certainly diverted, he reminded, "Though we have learned much of each other, there is still much more to be discovered."

"As I can attest to firsthand! I hope none other aspects of your character will be as great a shock!"

"Yes," he mused. "It is a rather exhilarating prospect, don't you agree?"

Elizabeth eyed suspiciously his smirk, and the assurance of her being every bit his complement and equal occurred to Darcy once again, and not for the last time. If nothing else, he would never be bored.

He took her gloved hand between both of his, giving it a warm embrace. "Be assuaged, my love: I, too, await the moment we are bound in the eyes of God as husband and wife, with fervent anticipation."

Watching him carefully, his bride-to-be was eased and smiled back at him. He leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Though to delay enticed him, he was strictly a man of duty, and so disclosed, "I must be sure Georgiana is comfortably settled. Therefore, regrettably… I take my leave as I ought."

And Elizabeth could see he truly meant it. Her heart contracted with rapture as well as compunction; Parting with him always made her feel it. She took his offered arm and walked with him back to the drive. From the garden, Bingley saw Darcy making his exit, and so, with as much remorse as his friend, followed suit. Their horses were sent for and brought around within seconds.

As Darcy took the reins, Elizabeth imparted to him, "Send Georgiana my love, and that I cannot wait to see her in the morning."

The smile that never ceased to gratify her graced his handsome face. "Of course. Good evening, and restful dreams…" His grin widened almost boyishly. "Mrs. Darcy."

"I beg pardon, sir," she pointed out archly, "but as I understand, that is doing it too brown, for now is the time to be having second thoughts."

Darcy gave an adamant shake of his head. "Never."

He touched the rim of his hat, and she returned it with a curtsey before the gentlemen spurred their horses through the gate and onward to Netherfield.

When they were out of sight, Elizabeth exchanged happy glances with her most beloved sister.

Jane beamed back and reached for her hand. "Oh, Lizzy! Can you believe the day is finally tomorrow? I don't think I can bare it if it were to be an hour later."

"The day shall come with all possible haste, if you will it," Elizabeth said, always gladdened to see her sister in wonderful spirits.

"But just think, Lizzy," Jane said with weight. "Tomorrow is the beginning of our new lives, and with the men we love most in this world. I couldn't imagine a more exciting time."

"No, nor I. But won't papa feel rebuffed!" Elizabeth teased.

The sisters laughed as they headed inside Longbourn as unmarried girls for the last and final time.

This was inspired by my most recent watching of the 1995 version of Pride and Prejudice, and, after having discovered Georgette Heyer's rich collection of Regency novels, I decided to finally try my hand at writing as authentic of Regency English dialogue as possible, save for adapting certain words to British spelling. (Being American, I'd rather stay consistent with what I know.)

Though it was just a little fluff piece, I hope you enjoyed it! Please let me know your thoughts, or any possible suggestions for improvements on more authentic Austenian writing. I'm all ears!