A/N: I know, I am awful. But I am TRYING to get back into the hang of write harder and faster. :) I am working of getting out of my own way and REMINDING myself that I have fans who are anxiously waiting this tale. So I promise to do my best and write from the heart the story I can, and cast off the doubt that's constantly saying "this is all messed up" because I just sat down to reread the whole thing, and no, it doesn't NOT suck! :) LOL We are our own worst enemies...

Hope you enjoy some Anne and Richard! The good news is the next 4 scenes after this are written, 1 is edited roughly and I will post it tomorrow. :)

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The Dowager Cottage at Rosings stood remarkably improved with the attentions of two months from the newly married Fitzwilliams. Drafts along the windowsills and cracks in the plaster had all seen repairs. New challenges of improving the furnishings and linens of the home were all that stood between Richard Fitzwilliam and his bride, Anne, enjoying the fruits of their labor.

Richard opened the door to the cottage and accepted a gentle peck from his wife in greeting. "Was that Mrs. Collins walking down the lane?"

Anne sighed. "It was. She came for tea, but I'm afraid she could not stay."

Richard grimaced and rubbed his chin now sporting the beginnings of a most unfashionable beard. If his comrades in London could see him now, they would mock him for looking as though he had joined the Navy. "That is a shame, I had hoped to discuss with her the letter I received from Darcy –"

Anne hushed Richard and violently threw up her hands to make him stop talking. Her husband gave her a look of complete bewilderment as she pointed back towards the kitchens. She quickly lowered her voice.

"Julia has spied the kitchen maid making frequent trips beyond the kitchens of the main house."

Richard walked closer to his wife as she retreated further to the dated sitting room off the main entry. He joined her in the conspiratorial whispers.

"Do you mean to say we quarter a spy?"

Anne shrugged her shoulders. "I cannot be sure, but perhaps we should take a walk to discuss the matter more."

Anne Fitzwilliam reached out to divest the sofa of a quilt to her husband's snicker. Richard took the blanket from his wife as her personal servant, Julia, suddenly appeared with her charge's spencer and bonnet.

"Thank you, Julia." Anne accepted the assistance with gratitude.

"I thought I heard the Colonel arrive, and expected you would take a stroll." Julia demonstrated a peculiarity on the Dowager Cottage. And prefer to be regarded to as Miss while Richard eschewed any reference as master. And so the staff had fallen back to his military rank as a sign of respect which suited Richard just fine as though the man had changed his clothes, the clothing of a gentleman had not changed the man.

The many acres of Rosings produced the peaceful coexistence since the Fitzwilliams retreated from the main home to their own establishment. As the entire estate lay tentatively in a trust due to the ridiculous last will of Sir Lewis de Bourgh, Anne's mother did not formally control any of the holdings. And though that may be the case on paper, actually dethroning Lady Catherine de Bourgh from a home she enjoyed for nearly thirty years proved an impossible task.

Anne had lived mostly a sickly life. Warmer weather abated most of the symptoms of her weakened lungs, yet she was no fool to think that when colder weather returned she would not suffer just the same as she had since she was a young girl. Therefore, having never enjoyed the chaos and excitement of London being a debutante, she held no interest in living in the main house if she and her husband could take find freedom from her mother's rule in the Dowager Cottage. The name cottage was a misnomer as the home boasted not less than ten bedrooms and required a small staff to run.

As a second son, Richard had joined the military with a bought commission at his earliest opportunity. Comforts had come and gone depending on the officers quarters he was assigned, but a veteran of the Peninsula Wars, he had spent equal amounts of time sleeping in a tent on the ground, or if it was cold, in the stables. Though he begrudged his aunt for her stubborn ways and exceedingly meddling machinations, he too did not mind a good life in a smaller home that permitted him to be his own man.

When they were first married, Richard and Anne discovered the privacy of a grassy clearing in a forest on the property, a clearing within walking distance of their smaller home. They no longer needed such privacy to enjoy time in one another's company, the first habits of their young marriage continued to bring a source of excitement and thrill of the chase. It was the same clearing that two months ago Anne confessed to Richard she knew all about the particulars of her father's will, though she was married unless she produced an heir, she would not inherit Rosings. The other possible heir had no idea he might stand to inherit as that was none other than George Wickham. In his last years, Sir Lewis grew obsessed with the notion of his bloodline failing to carry his legacy further. Thus he placed his estate in a trust to thwart his shrewish wife and unconventionally included his bastard child with a woman married into the aristocracy in his line of succession. Without an entailment or title, his solicitor Longwell held no choice in the matter to overrule his wishes.

"So what does our cousin Darcy have to impart? I fear I have not yet received a letter from Elizabeth though I daresay she might be more than occupied with her own life to write." Anne began the conversation as Richard settled the blanket over a thicket of grass. The sun's rays made the day uncomfortably warm, and he swiftly removed his coat to lie along the edge of their impromptu seating area while Anne began to unbutton her spencer.

"I am happy you suggested we come here because I'm afraid my news will not be to your liking."

"Oh?" She settled against her husband's chest as he supported them both with his arms behind him. Tucking a gentle lock of his wife's hair behind her ears, he leaned forward for a gentle nibble before pressing a kiss against her temple.

Richard sighed.

"He wishes for me to personally deliver the documents against Parson Collins to his Eminence the Archbishop."

Anne remained thoughtfully silent as the mention of the Archbishop conjured both happy memories of the day they clandestinely married in the chapel before the godfather of both Darcy and Anne, yet also a sadness as she had grown to rely on the company of Charlotte Collins.

"But what should happen to Mrs. Collins?" Anne asked. She felt her husband shrug behind her.

"I would assume she could return to her family or some other arrangement could be made for her here. Or she might follow her husband as he is due an inheritance." Richard scowled at how hopelessly tangled all of their lives were with one another. Without the help Elizabeth Bennet and his cousin Darcy, the Fitzwilliams would not enjoy the happiness they now possessed. Yet Elizabeth's home of Longbourn would pass to the same man that nearly killed her with a violent beating before Easter. William Collins was a squat, sniveling sort of man who simpered before all demonstrations of power and yet took out his own insecurities on any and all weaker than him.

"Does Elizabeth wish for this retribution upon her kin?" Anne thought highly of the young woman who strongly defied her mother and cousin and saved a young family from starvation on the glebe lands. But Anne was most grateful for when Elizabeth brought a lively reading of A Midsummer Night's Dream to her sick room as just those few months ago she could scarcely walk due to her illness.

"That is why Darcy asks for me to take the evidence to London."

"Evidence of the assault? Is there a statement from Dr. Matthews?" The same physician who treated Elizabeth was instrumental for Anne to find a way to live as full of a life as she might despite her condition. The regiment required an abundance of rest on her part, but as she no longer fell victim to coughing spells, she trusted the syrups he prescribed had recovered her health so she might carry a child. Her mother's physician, Dr. Smeads, never relieved Anne of any symptom but to provide her with laudanum.

A sour taste filled Richard's mouth.

"The ecclesiastic court will not find fault with a vicar for correcting his cousin, it is only the mismanagement of the glebe lands that we have a claim to potentially remove him from the living without having to pay restitution."

"And what if we must pay him the value of the living for the rest of his days?" Anne knew as well as Richard that the coffers of Rosings suffered through years of mismanagement and limitations from lying in trust. They could not endure such a ruling to pay the old parson as well as the new parson. A portion of her dowry provided for the repairs to the Dowager's Cottage!

"This is why all hinged upon Elizabeth's wishes. Darcy has assured me they want satisfaction for the man and if it comes to a matter of cost, he shall provide."

Anne leaned forward and twisted around to look at her husband directly.

"But what do you think about Fitzwilliam's plan?" Anne held up her hand as though taking an oath. "That he has done much for us I cannot complain, nor can you. But it is different now, and we must act only so far as we are both willing to carry a cause forward. If you act, I just wish for it to be on your own accord and not as some order of Fitzwilliam Darcy."

Anne jutted her chin out as she challenged Richard's personal opinion on the issue. Seeing the muscles in his neck tense, she tentatively feared she had pushed too far in questioning her husband's independence from their cousin.

Through clenched teeth, Richard issued his final decision on the matter which more than satisfied his wife.

"If the man had so much as raised a hand to you I would have choked the life out of him. The Darcy did not is the only mercy that our cousin Elizabeth has afforded the man and he should be grateful for that kindness."

Anne nodded and plucked a daisy from the small patch growing in their clearing. She ran the stem through her fingers as she agreed with her husband despite her care for Mrs. Collins.

"How long do you believe you'll have to be in London and when do you leave?" She gently beat his chest with the poor flower, punctuating her inquiry.

Richard leaned forward almost to a crawl. He took a deep breath to inhale the scent of the flower in his wife's hands. She giggled at his antics, and Richard growled before snapping his head up to kiss Anne properly on the lips.

"I believe our cousin's business can wait until tomorrow," he said, kissing her again. "Or the next day," they kissed once more, this time longer as a release of the building passion between them. Anne gently kept possession of her husband's lower lip for half a second longer than she ought before she allowed him to pull away.

"Or perhaps next week?" She asked eliciting more of his amorous attentions as he heartily agreed there was no rush. London could wait one more week.

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As always, I take your notes, like console table, LOL. I do dictate, so homonyms or words that sound similar to the real word is always a common error because the computer makes a guess and I don't always catch it because my brain knows what it is supposed to say, so it just fixes it. But I HAVE to dictate or you would have no stories because I can't type for more than an hour or so without aggravating my nerve issues in my neck and hand. So bare with me. and I dearly appreciate any positive kudos and catches of whoopsies. :)

XOXOXOXOXOX
Elizabeth Ann West