Do not own the characters. Story was written out of 2 requests - one to write romantic drivel, the other by another friend to write a story about the possibility of Mr. Darcy being unfaithful (a thought that I KNOW is waaaay far from the truth). Totally not my normal writing style, but here it is. I will write a real romance at some point. Just not now...

She gazed through the rain streaked window, letting the letter she held flutter to the ground. Shaking her head slightly she blinked back a tear, her heart feeling heavy like the rain that poured outside her window.

"Mrs. Darcy."

She turned abruptly at the sound of Colonel Fitzwilliam's voice. He bowed slightly, holding his hat in one hand and his cane in the other, already having buttoned his greatcoat.

"I am sorry to leave you in such a state, Mrs. Darcy, but I am afraid that the Lady Catherine is most urgent in her demands for my return to Rosings Park. I would stay if I could, but I cannot. My deepest regrets, Mrs. Darcy. However, it is my firmest belief that Mr. Darcy has only been unavoidably delayed and was unable to inform you. I heard that there was a strike, recently, and that could have slowed the trains. I am positive that he shall soon be returned at Pemberley and you need not worry."

Mrs. Darcy managed a small smile and dipped a curtsy. "Thank you, Colonel. I am sure you are correct, and my worries are unnecessary. May your journey be safe."

Colonel Fitzwilliam bowed and strode out. She watched him leave, and when she heard the door of the entrance to Pemberley she bent down to pick up the letter. She was certain that the contents were not true, but what was she to say to Georgiana when it was suppertime? Mrs. Darcy was certain that her husband's sister was going to ask if she had heard back from the Chandlers, and she knew that if she lied, the young Miss Darcy would be able to tell. And even if Georgiana couldn't, it was against Mrs. Darcy's principles to lie.

She let the tears fall in torrents now that the Colonel had gone and she knew she would be undisturbed. They rolled down her cheeks as the raindrops rolled down the window. Whatever possessed the Chandlers to say such spiteful things about Mr. Darcy, she knew not. She merely knew that it was far from true, and that somehow they must have done something to lose her husband's good opinion. Yet... still... there was a slight doubt that poked incessantly in her mind. What if it was true...? What if he had gone off with this rich heiress...? No, it couldn't be, it wasn't in his character. But still... until he returned her worries would continue, that much he knew...

She swallowed and choked back her tears, murmuring to herself as she thought over the Chandlers' letter. "What if... she had a pair of fine eyes...?"

A soft, gentle voice whispered in her ear. "They were fine when first I met her, and have only grown finer as time has passed."

Mrs. Darcy whirled around with a gasp, letting the letter fall to the floor. There before her stood her husband, wet and bedraggled, his boots and coat covered in mud. Giving no thought to her once white gown, she threw her arms about him in an embrace as he gently held her and kissed the top of her head.

"Mrs. Darcy," he murmured. "Oh, Mrs. Darcy. I have missed you, and the story of my adventures to return to you must wait, for I am starving."

Mrs. Darcy glanced up at her husband and softly caressed his cheek. "I was so worried about you, Mr. Darcy, and... the Chandlers... they..." her voice broke off as she hugged him again.

"Shh." He put a finger to her lips and smiled softly. "I am sorry to have caused you so much worry, my dear Lizzy. The Chandlers tried to convince me to arrange a marriage between their daughter and our son. When I refused, they grew angry. I wrote a letter while I was at their house, and requested them to mail it to you. The daughter of a family friend in America had been visiting nearby, and through some strange twist of fate had no one to accompany her to Bath, and so I took it upon myself to offer to escort her. I had thought that the Chandlers would have alerted you to what I was doing. I am sorry, Elizabeth, for not ensuring that the letter was sent myself. I met Colonel Fitzwilliam on my way here, and he told me everything. Lizzy, my Lizzy, do not cry. I love you, and only you, Mrs. Darcy."

She smiled through her tears and murmured. "I love you, my darling Mr. Darcy."