AN: Thank you so much to the reviewer who pointed out the issues in Chapter 1 – I really appreciate it. I've corrected them. I don't know how I totally blanked on Georgiana and the Gardiners having already met!

Chapter 3

The carriage jarred under Elizabeth and she roused, discovering she had been asleep on Darcy's shoulder, but that he had no reason for complaint, as he was asleep himself still. She sat up and stretched, peering out the window. All was unfamiliar to her here, and she had no notion of where they were. They were moving through fields turning green with the first touch of spring, here and there a patch of yellow wildflowers, a flock of grazing sheep or cattle. They were to overnight in Southampton, and a quick check of the time told her they were probably at least fifty miles away from that city.

Elizabeth looked over at Darcy and smiled as she thought about how unfounded her nerves had been. He had been every bit as much the gentleman in the bedchamber as he was elsewhere, offering her another glass of wine when she entered the room, asking if there was anything else he could do to see to her comfort. Then, when she had finished the wine, kissing her until she had forgotten nervousness entirely.

And yet there again was her new private Mr. Darcy, because while her aunt had been accurate as to the pain, there were things he had done before that moment which still made her flush to think about them. Pleasurable indeed, she thought, her face growing hot so that she wished she had thought to put a fan in her reticule instead of packing them all away in her trunks, following them in another, more utilitarian coach than the one she and Darcy rode in, along with Sarah and Darcy's valet, Mr. Mason.

The carriage rolled on along the turnpike road, through the Hampshire fields, and Darcy slept through a change of horses before finally waking.

"Hello, husband," she smiled.

"Hello, wife." He reached over and took her hand and clasped it in his, and Elizabeth found she would not have minded if they had five hundred miles to go instead.


Their arrival into Weymouth showed the town to be everything Elizabeth had hoped for. She had been to the seaside only once before, also to Southampton, when she and Jane had accompanied the Gardiners on a trip Mr. Gardiner found necessary to make for business. That city's meagre beach on the Solent was nothing compared to the vast expanse of waves on the Channel, sparkling in the sunlight, and the beauty of Chesil Beach, stretching out as far as she could see. She had come expecting to be charmed by the place, and charmed she was.

They had daylight enough upon their arrival to the town that they could take a brief stroll along the esplanade before returning to the hotel, where Darcy had reserved a spacious apartment that would have ample room for Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley, when they arrived. For now, it felt overly large to Elizabeth, particularly as the servants and their trunks had not yet arrived, and so there was little to fill it. Still, she was pleased with the quality of the rooms, and with the fine view of the sea from the sitting room. She was standing at the window, holding the curtain aside and watching the last streaks of twilight disappear over the Channel, when Darcy asked:

"Is everything to your liking, Elizabeth?"

"To my liking? It is perfect. It is all perfect," she said, with a sly smile. "You have raised my expectations so high now you will have to labour greatly to always meet them."

"It is a labour I shall have to bear, then," he said, walking over to the window to join her. "I find I do not mind it much, endeavouring to make you happy."

They watched the waves come in under the moonlight for a long while, his arms wrapped comfortably around her, until at last they were forced to step away for dinner.

What else may be said about their first month in Weymouth that has not been said about so many of the newly wed, on their first trip together, with more than ample wealth to make all things easy? They had no close acquaintances in Weymouth, and so they passed their mornings early in the trip with walks along the beach, returning to the hotel for refreshments and correspondence. Elizabeth found that Darcy was most diligent in any matter of business sent to him, and no less so with his family. She, for her part, wrote Jane and the rest of her sisters – including Georgiana – regularly, and was surprised to find Catherine a much more dutiful correspondent than she would have expected.

Evenings they spent walking the esplanade, and eating lavish dinners for two, until Elizabeth finally grew desirous of some other society, as well as some dancing, and required him to take her to a ball at the town's assembly rooms. They made many acquaintances there, some of which were actually worth preserving, and this provided them with occasional morning callers, as well as people to greet in their walks along the esplanade.

There were no morning callers, however, on the day Elizabeth received a letter from Georgiana that made her begin to suspect why Catherine had been writing her regular letters filled with apparent rational thought.

"Georgiana writes to ask may we invite Kitty to come to Weymouth as well," she told Darcy. "Kitty has apparently written telling her how wild she is with envy over Georgiana's trip to the seaside."

"I see nothing wrong with the scheme," Darcy said. He had been too long in the care of only one person – Georgiana – to automatically give consideration to Elizabeth's sisters-by-blood, but he had seen that Catherine and Georgiana got on well, and that being around a lady of her age but of a more lively temperament might be beneficial for Georgiana. "We have ample space. Please do write to invite her, and Mary as well, if you so choose. I should have thought of them previously."

"Mary will say she has no interest in such frivolous pursuits as are to be found at the seaside," Elizabeth said. "I will write to Kitty, however. She has been saying these six months that she will never get to go to the seaside because papa will not allow it, and Lydia has ruined everything for her. She will be ecstatic, and I am sure my father will have no objection to her coming with us, so long as we promise not to allow her to elope."

Catherine was indeed ecstatic, bounding out of the carriage and embracing Elizabeth before gazing back at the sea and sighing with happiness. She had gone to London and stayed with the Gardiners for a few days so that she might travel with Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley. Those two ladies were helped out of the carriage by Darcy, and looked far more weary from the travel. Any suspicions Elizabeth had that Catherine had worn them out with a constant stream of chatter, however, were gone when they all dined together; it was clear she and Georgiana had shared many confidences and become better friends in the course of their correspondence and carriage ride to Weymouth. Kitty was more energetic than her companions simply because she had so long wished to travel to such a place, and now she was here, and determined to enjoy her time.

The growing friendship between the two young ladies meant that Elizabeth was not able to bond with her new sister perhaps as much as she would have liked, although she found herself knowing Georgiana better simply for spending more time together as a family. When Georgiana was engaged in conversation with Catherine, Elizabeth attempted to learn more about Mrs. Annesley, whom she knew from Darcy only as a gentlewoman by birth who had suffered a loss of fortune at some point earlier, and who had made great strides with Georgiana since being enlisted as her companion.

The ladies were out walking one morning – Darcy had more business to attend to than usual, and had bade them to go without him – and Georgiana and Catherine were walking on ahead, laughing about some thing or another. Elizabeth, following them with Mrs. Annesley, took the opportunity to ask whether Mrs. Annesley had been much to the seaside before.

"Yes, many times before," Mrs. Annesley said. "Usually to the north, however, particularly to Scarborough. We went there many times when I was a child."

"Were your family from the north?"

"Yes, we had an estate in Yorkshire."

"I have never been Yorkshire – what is it like?"

"Beautiful, Mrs. Darcy. I suppose everyone says that about the land where they were raised, but I never knew anyone to visit who didn't comment on how lovely the country was."

"Perhaps someday I shall be able to visit there." Elizabeth felt it, hanging in the air between them, that she had been elevated in fortune and rank, to the ability to travel wherever and whenever she wished, while Mrs. Annesley had suffered a loss in status. She wondered what had caused it, but knew it would be impertinent to ask, and so they walked on silently for awhile.

"I suppose you have a curiosity as to how I came to be here," Mrs. Annesley said.

"No, I would never – "

"It is no worry, Mrs. Darcy. I can understand such a curiosity, as I am a companion to your new sister. You would have a right to ask, although I appreciate that you did not. It is not the happiest of tales, but I do not mind telling it."

They walked down, closer to the water, the stones rolling under Elizabeth's half boots, and Mrs. Annesley began:

"I was born on a small estate, Werchfield Manor, in Yorkshire, as I said. I was an only child, and my father set aside a respectable portion for me, so that I was able to marry well, or so I thought. My husband was a kindly man, but I also learned he was a foolish man, and any means that he could use to part himself from his fortune, he used to their fullest extent. Speculation did the most damage, and he died of typhus in a debtor's prison."

Elizabeth made such expressions of sympathy as she could, and could not but help thinking of her sister Lydia, and wondering if her sister would suffer the grief of seeing Wickham eventually meet a similar end.

"It was less than a year after my husband died that my father also died," Mrs. Annesley continued. "The estate had been doing poorly, more poorly than my mother or I realised, and although I inherited it on his death, by the time I had sold the estate and paid the debts of my father and husband, there was barely enough of a portion to keep my mother in a small cottage. So I chose to make my own way in the world; I was fortunate that a friend of our family was in need of a companion for his daughter. I do not possess all of the skills of a governess – I was never musically inclined."

"You may not have those skills," Elizabeth said. "But I know Mr. Darcy has been exceedingly happy with the progress you have made with Georgiana."

"Ah, yes, well, manners, deportment, helping a girl gain confidence, these are all things I at least feel I may attempt. If Georgiana asks for help with a piano concerto, however, I am at a loss."

Elizabeth laughed, and considered Mrs. Annesley, who she estimated to be at least five and thirty years of age. "How many girls have you been companion to, if you do not mind my asking?"

"I do not mind at all. I was companion to three young ladies before Georgiana. They are all of them married now, and I expect we'll see Georgiana do the same before long. I understand from Mr. Darcy that she is to come out in the fall."

"Yes, we are for London for the little season," Elizabeth said. "We thought it would be better to ease her into society."

"Certainly. It should not take long for a girl like her to make a good match. She has all the accomplishments that could ever be asked of a young lady, and fortune. There should be nothing to hold her back."

"She is so shy, though."

"Give her time in society, and that will go away soon enough."

"You do not think the – setback – she had when she was fifteen will affect her?"

"If anything, perhaps it will make her cautious and prudent, which I believe to be a good thing. I see a great many girls during the season fall in love with the first handsome man they dance with."