Elizabeth woke to the muffled sound of pattering rain. The quick, dainty footsteps of therain drops danced lightly across the roof to an unknown waltz. She kept her eyes shut lightly as she lay in bed, enjoying the feeling of complete relaxation. Though she wished she could lie abed all day, she knew she would have to rise in enough time for Sally to remake the bed, as Mr. Darcy hated returning to an unkempt mass of sheets in the evening.

She slid her hand across Darcy's vacated side to see if he had been up long enough for the mattress to loose the shape of his body; he'd always been an early riser. Her searching hand brushed a firm material, far different from the softness of the sheets. Reluctantly opening her eyes, Elizabeth found that her hand rested on a letter with her name on it. Even in the dim light, she recognized the neat, delicate handwriting of her older sister.

Eagerly, Elizabeth climbed out of the bed and lit the lamp over her vanity. She sat on the stool and unfolded the crisp letter.

Dearest Lizzie,

I hope this letter finds you in excellent hope. Mr. Bingley and I thoroughly enjoyed young Georgiana's stay with us, here in London.

Elizabeth continued on to read Jane's chatty and interesting correspondence, appreciating her sister's soft humor and interspersed anecdotes about her life with Mr. Bingley and his sister in London.

The end was an entirely different subject though.

And now I must raise a perhaps delicate issue with you. Georgiana may have told you that Kitty visited us during her stay. I observed that Kitty's rather vivacious manner was somewhat dulled in the presence of the quiet Georgiana. I believe that it would be prudent to temporarily remove Kitty from Lydia's influence as mother, and father, are far beyond the age to handle such a vivacious, young girl. The headache, humiliation, and near scandal caused by our younger sister and Mr. Wickham is not an experience I would care to repeat. Kitty is a good girl, but perhaps a bit too flighty. Mr. Bingley has graciously agreed with my proposal that Kitty come to stay with us for a while. I wondered if it would be disagreeable to you and Darcy if Kitty resided at Pemberley after her stay with us.

I eagerly await your response and hope all remains well.

Always yours with love,

Jane Bingley

Elizabeth reread the letter, agreeing with Jane that it would be best if Kitty were removed from Lydia's and their mother's influence.While she wanted to sit down and write a letter with a full-hearted affirmative of Jane's plan, she recognized that the decision belonged to Darcy and Georgiana as well.

She placed the letter on her vanity and set about preparing for the day before making her way to Darcy's study, the most likely place he would be on such a day.

When reached his study door, she found it closed. Gingerly she knocked, wondering if she were interrupting him. Elizabeth waited a few moments before the door was opened by her husband who smiled when he caught sight of her.

"So you decided to return to us from fairyland!" he teased as he usually did when she overslept.

Elizabeth smiled. "I nearly didn't—." She was about to continue when she noticed that the smile on Darcy's lips did not rest in his eyes as usual when he was teasing.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly.

Darcy frowned as if debating whether or not to reveal something to her.

"What is it?" she demanded more urgently, wondering what her husband was hiding.

"Come in and look on my desk," he said softly. She'd heard that tone once before, when he had tried to explain his feelings for her to her and she had rejected him. It was a mixture of anger, hurt, confusion, and tenderness. This time though, she felt that the anger wasn't fully directed towards her.

She stepped into his large study with several shelves of books and account records, a large sofa, and an elegant fire place. There was a large door adjoining it to the library. She walked over to his large mahogany desk and glanced over the papers Darcy had left out.

"Accounts?" she asked as Darcy came up behind her.

"No," he said softly.

Elizabeth peered closer at the papers and once more that day, recognized the handwriting on the pages. Her face paled.

"Where did you get these?" she demanded, turning to him, knowing full well where he had gotten them.

"Perhaps you should tell me why you had hidden them in the first place," he suggested.

"I—did you read my journal?" she insisted, trying to keep an accusatory tone from her voice as anger began to mount in her chest.

"No—,"

"Then how did you know about them?" Her eyes narrowed as her arms crossed one another across her chest.

"I went to get one of the books you had and accidentally knocked your journal from the shelf. These fell out. Why did you hide them?" His voice was even but tilting towards the haughty coldness that infiltrated his tone when he was angry.

Elizabeth swallowed. "I—I didn't want you to know about them," she said softly.

"Is there anything else you don't want me to know about?" Darcy demanded harshly. Elizabeth wanted to cry, understanding why he was angry with her. It wasn't the letters; he felt as if she were hiding things from him.

"No, I promise." Elizabeth felt her face pale further. "I know, I shouldn't have hidden them, but—." She had no right to get angry with him. She knew he had not been snooping. He wouldn't violate her trust like that. It was she that had violated his trust. They'd agreed to discuss everything and she'd broken that promise.

Elizabeth went over to the sofa and sank onto it, burying her face in her hands.

"I—I was ashamed," she sobbed. "All that you did for us when—when we—my family—could have been so humiliated and even after I had been so rude to you. And—and you told me," she gulped, "you told me that you'd done it for me. But when I married you—I promised myself—I promised—I wouldn't burden you with my family issues. I'm sorry, Fitzwilliam, I never meant—,"

"Lizzie." Darcy pulled her to him, letting her sob into his shoulder. "I'm not angry with you, or Lydia."

Elizabeth sniffed. "I'm sorry, Darcy."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, stroking her back.

"You shouldn't have to handle my family's problems or rescue them from their ill decisions. You married me, not my family."

"Elizabeth, your family is a part of you. I understood when I married you that I may not—er—agree with all of their concerns, but I would support you and thus, your family. After all, you have had your trials with my own family." She frowned at this bitter addition, but said nothing as she rested her cheek on his shoulder. So far, Darcy and his aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, had refused to talk. He had taken his aunt's slurs against his wife with great insult, and despite Elizabeth's pressing, refused to correspond with the Lady.

"So what are you going to do?" She sat back, wiping her eyes.

Darcy shook his head and took her hands, his brown eyes meeting hers. "You mean, what are we going to do." Anger flashed through his eyes for a moment as his face darkened. "It's Wickham that put Lydia up to this. He's gone and gotten himself into further debt and is having her appeal to you for help rather than admitting he's the—,"

Elizabeth laid her fingers on his lips, silencing his angry words.

"I understand your hatred for one another, dear one. But your anger and your kindness will not change the man he is."

Darcy looked away from her and nodded. "What do you think we should do?"

Elizabeth frowned and stared at the fire, one of her hands still resting in Darcy's. "Send them enough money to get by for the month and a letter to Lydia stating that Wickham shall have to pay off his debts on his own, for we are not financially responsible for him."

"You'd thought out that solution before?" Darcy asked softly.

She nodded, her face burning with shame.

"Well, I believe that's a suitable course of action. I will handle it after supper. And now we have another family issue to discuss."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Jane."

"What about Jane?"

Darcy grinned, his eyes dancing. "Mr. Bingley and I have spoken and agreed that it would be beneficial to both our wives if they were not so distantly separated."

Elizabeth's lips parted in surprise. "You mean—,"

Her husband laughed. "Yes, Charles has bought an estate within thirty miles of ours so that you and Jane may visit as often as you like and Kitty may be shuttled between each of the estates. Perhaps in time she will prove a suitable companion for my sister, Georgiana."

She threw her arms Darcy, thanking him effusively. The laughter that filled the room sharply contrasted the tension that had filled it but a few moments before.