Mr. Darcy and I followed Jane and Mr. Bingly as we made our way to Meryton. I still felt a little uneasy being with him, ever since his Aunt had come to see me my emotions had been in turmoil. What was I feeling? I certainly did not hate him anymore. I dare say I even liked him a little. Something in my heart fought against that word: "like"

I remember being at the inn in Lambton when I received my letters from Jane telling me about Lydia. How Mr. Darcy came upon me soon after and showed such concern for my well being. I had felt a flutter in my heart as well as an aching, I would almost say a longing for something that could now never be. Then to find that he had been a key factor in getting Mr. Wickham and my unruly sister to marry and once again made me reevaluate my opinion of him. Maybe "like" was not enough of a word to describe how I am feeling. Somewhere in the inner most depths of my heart came the whisper. Love. Did I love Mr. Darcy? As soon as I thought that word my heart started pounding against my ribcage. My breathing seemed to come a little more rapidly.

"Miss. Elizabeth are you feeling well?" Mr. Darcy's deep voice asked, with all the concern I had heard that day in Lambton.

"I am well" I managed to say as I turned to look at him.

As I turned to him a movement in the bushes just behind us caught my eye. I looked and out came Mr. Wickham. He had a wild look in his eyes and he also looked like he had not slept in days. He glared at Mr. Darcy and raised his arm pointing a pistol at his back. I did not think; I just acted. I pushed at the great man at my side with all my might to get him out of harms way. The last thing I recall is the searing pain that went through my body.

I was looking up at Jane, tears coursed unchecked down her cheeks. I tried to whisper to her that I didn't hurt anymore, but I couldn't. I tried to raise my arm to comfort her, but my limbs would not move. Had the bullet paralyzed me? My dear sister put her hands over her pretty face and her shoulders shook with sobs I could not hear. What was wrong? Why could I not move or even say anything to comfort her?

Suddenly Mr. Bingly was by her side taking her in his arms. She let him embrace her! They were in engaged to be sure, but that was no excuse for such bold moves. I then noticed the tears on Mr. Bingly's face as he comforted my distressed sister.

Then he came into my line of sight. His most handsome face, the face I had so readily hated last fall, and thought him to be the worst of men. It came as quite a shock to find he had tears coming unchecked down his perfect features too! He lent down toward me, try as I might I could not raise my arms to fend him off. How dare he? I might have just come to realize that I did indeed love him, but to do such a thing? And in front of my sister and his friend! He pressed his lips to my forehead and then I said something. What was it he said? I could not hear! Panic rose, what did he say!

I saw him look down and pick something up. It looked to be a man's handkerchief drenched in bright red liquid. Blood. The handkerchief was covered in blood. My blood.

Wait.

What did that mean. The handkerchief was covered in my blood? Oh my dear Lord. Did this mean I was dead?! Did Mr. Wickham kill me? The realization then came to mind that I could not moved nor hear anything. Not only that when Mr. Darcy pressed his lips to my forehead I do not recall my blood racing and my heart beating.

Oh no! No! This cannot be! I did not ever get the chance to tell Mr. Darcy that I loved him, that I could not imagine my life without him. That indeed he could be a man I could marry! This is not fair!

Mr. Darcy looked down at me again. The anguish, pain and yes; it was there too: love. Was all in his wonderful blue eyes. It was strangely comforting to know that he did still love me. He raised his hand and put them toward my eyes

No, No! Please do not shut them! I cannot be dead! Please Lord, I want to live and love him!

His hand paused and then he closed his eyes and turned his face away from mine as his fingers closed my eyes. All was dark. This was it. This was my end. This was a nightmare!

I heard a soft sob and my eyes flew open. I could hear heavy breathing and feel my tears on my face. I took a deep shaky breath and it came out just like it went in. This time my sob was stronger and louder.

I was alive! It was just a horrible terrifying nightmare! I sat up and looked around. This was not Longbourn. Where was I? I looked next to me and noticed a man sitting in a chair leaning on the bed fast asleep. He must have felt me move because I immediately shot up. It was Mr. Darcy! What was he doing in my room?

"Elizabeth! You are awake! Oh thank goodness, I was so scared!" He took me in his arms and I could feel him shaking slightly.

"Wha…. What happened?" My voice sounded thick.

"You passed out as soon as you were delivered of our son. You have been unconscious for a whole day." He answered pulling back.

Son? I was married to this man and I have given him a son?! Mr. Darcy; Fitzwilliam, the name came to me suddenly. Fitzwilliam looked down at me with those concerned eyes.

"Dearest, are you feeling all right? Do I need to call for the doctor?"

"No." I replied. Looking up at him I smiled widely. "No, I am feeling well." Memories of our past two years as a married couple filled my mind and tears came to my eyes. "My dear Fitzwilliam." I raised my hand and caressed his cheek. He leaned into my palm and kissed it. "Can I see our son?"

He smiled his dimpled smile and went to the foot of the bed where he picked up a tiny bundle. Bringing the tiny baby over to me he gently laid him in my arms. I looked down into the most beautifully perfect little face and my swelled with love. So powerful the tears began anew. "He is perfect." I said softly. "What should we name him?"

"It is a tradition in my family to name to first son after the mother's maiden name." He answered. "However, if this is not your wish, we can name his something else."

I thought on what he said and then smiled." How about Bennet William?"

My husband smiled back and nodded. "I like that." I leaned over and kissed tiny Bennet on the head and then mine.

"Fitzwilliam?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you." I whispered to him

"I love you too my sweet wife." He then kissed me on my mouth. I could feel my blood racing and my heart pounding with the passion we shared.