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DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN PRIDE AND PREJUDICE.

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy paced the length of the sitting room situated in the eastern part of the house, facing the road leading to the estate, which was precisely why she chose that exact location to place herself in. That way, she would be fortunate to espy her husband, most likely on horseback. He looked exceedingly well on a stallion, in her opinion. He looked dignified and every bit of the gentleman she had denied him to be two years ago, when he first proposed.

She had not seen Mr. Darcy in a fortninght, and her spirits had been considerably low ever since, causing quite a disturbance among the servants, who were not particularly accustomed to seeing their vivacious mistress act in such a manner. The brooding manner in which she carried herself nowadays reminded them so much of their master.

This was the first time Elizabeth and Darcy had been apart in their six months of marriage, and Elizabeth's startling realization of how dependent she, or at least, her happiness was on him only served to make the days she spent longer and lonelier, especially since her sister Georgiana was in Matlock.

And tonight, Fitzwilliam Darcy was coming back.

Mrs. Darcy smiled broadly, willed herself to sit down, and forced her attentions to her needlework. Every once in a while, her foot would tap impatiently on the floor, or she would be disturbed by a lock of hair brushing against her neck, and the luxurious chair she was perched on felt more like a prison than anything that would bring her a great deal of comfort.

She thought of Mr. Darcy, as she had been evidently doing a lot lately. In his last letter, he wrote of some difficulties with his associates in business. She hoped it was not something that would distress him to such great lengths. The adieu was filled with promises of his immediate return, which did wonders to her poor nerves.

And…she was turning into her mother. Excellent.

Another tendril of hair escaped the intricate arrangement of hairpins on her hair, much to her vexation. Her unruly curls were not easily tamed, and she certainly could do nothing of it now. She opted instead to read the letters that had arrived in the post today, one from Jane, two from Mrs. Bennet (mostly frantic lamentations of how she still was not with child yet, when Lydia already had a son and was expecting another by the end of May), and one from Charlotte.

Elizabeth disregarded the ones from her mother and began to break the seal off Jane's letter, when someone knocked on her door.

Assuming that it was her lady's maid (who was left with instructions to alert her of Darcy's arrival), she had barely said, "You may enter, Cassandra," when the door flung open.

The letter fell from her hands in astonishment. "Fitzwilliam!"

She was not completely certain whether it was due to the fact that she had not seen him for weeks, or something else had caused the change, but he looked even better than she had ever seen him. His hair was slightly longer, his complexion glowed, and his smile was bright. Of course, there was also the look of tenderness that graced his eyes whenever he happened to look at her.

"Lizzy," Darcy said, openly laughing at look of sheer disbelief on her countenance. He closed the door and held his arms open to accommodate his wife. She threw herself at him with perhaps a bit more force than he was expecting, for Darcy stumbled backwards, and they both ended up in a tangled heap on the rug.

"Ow!" Darcy groaned, though the throbbing pain on his head was immediately forgotten when he saw Elizabeth giggling, her cheeks coloring to a becoming shade of pink, and her fine eyes sparkling.

She winked slyly at him. "Oh, William, William," she said in mock disapproval. "How could you let a lady end up in such a compromising position?"

Darcy feigned a severe look. "Why, only when the lady doth deserves to be compromised. And I do believe, madam, that you deserve it the most!"

His face was hardly an inch away from hers, and Elizabeth found it suddenly difficult to breathe. "Also," he added huskily, "you seemed to have caused my fall and you have nearly injured me, Mrs. Darcy, and I will not tolerate such grievous offenses. I demand my compensation." He closed the distance and caressed her lips with his.

She wrapped her arms around her neck and responded enthusiastically to his attentions. The last two weeks without him has taken its toll on her, and she was thoroughly delighted to have him back, in her arms, where he most rightfully belonged.

Darcy leaned his forehead on hers and sighed. He absently tucked the wayward strands of hair behind her ear. She waited for the curl to spring out from the shell of her ear. It did not.

Elizabeth smiled. "Welcome home, my love."

"Thank you, Elizabeth. And now, let us to supper." Getting back on his feet, he brushed himself off and held a hand out to help her up.

She glanced at his hand as if it were an unknown contraption. Mr. Darcy's confusion quickly turned into shock when she grabbed his hand and pulled him to her. He frantically had to adjust himself as to not crush his wife. After he had done so, he looked at her questioningly.

"I do not think so, William," she said mischievously. "You have done me a grievous offense as well."

He lifted an eyebrow. "And that would be?"

"You did not welcome me home," she said with an exaggerated pout.

"Welcome you home?"

"Indeed!" she said with all the indignation she could muster. "I had expected a lot more from my husband!"

Darcy was bemused. "And pray, madam, where did you go?"

"I did not go anywhere," she said, "but neither was I at my home."

He was completely puzzled now. "Do you want me to have your trunks packed for Longbourn?"

"What? No!" Elizabeth cried. She rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, Fitzwilliam, I cannot believe that you do not know." She kissed him lingeringly again, and, gesturing towards their entwined bodies, whispered, "This is my home. And I am displeased that you have not only deprived me of my home for a fortnight, but also fail to greet me back."

He laughed heartily when he realized her meaning. He lowered his mouth on her earlobe. "Well, then," he breathed, "I bid you a warm welcome, dearest Lizzy. Welcome home."

Cheesy, huh? Thanks for reading! Please leave a review. :D