The newly-weds did wake in time to join Mr. Darcy for breakfast and see him off to Pemberley. Afterwards, they sat in the drawing room and talked.

"We have done almost nothing but travel since our wedding, Fitzwilliam. I hardly know what married people do when at home."

"Much the same as single people, I suppose, with some notable additions." He winked suggestively and she blushed. "What would you do if you were in Hertfordshire?"

"I would go for a walk, but this is London, I suppose I can hardly ramble about here unaccompanied."

"No, but we could take a stroll together in Hyde Park. What else would you like to do?"

"I should very much like to visit my aunt and uncle in Gracechurch Street. They must be worried about me, I ought to reassure them of my well-being."

Darcy knew that he had to broach a difficult topic. "Lizzy, my father was kind to us . . ."

"Yes, he was. It was certainly a welcome change."

"He accepted you as my wife, largely because we were already wed and there was little he could do but also because, as a gentleman's daughter, you are a suitable bride for me, if not ideal in his eyes." She looked at him silently and he strove onward. "My father's concern is that you have relations in trade. He is desirous that you minimize your socialization with them while we are in town."

"But the Gardiners are the sole people I know here and they are my only family now! Does he wish me to cut ties completely?" She left unspoken how much she had already given up on his account.

"I do not believe so, it is appearances alone that concern him in this case. Perhaps we could visit them today, before anybody knows we are home and henceforth you might continue the relationship by correspondence."

"I may continue to write to my aunt?" She felt amazing relief at this small concession.

"I do not see why not."

"We can go see them today, you said?" He nodded. "I should like to go now then, before any walk in the park."

"Of course, Lizzy, whatever you wish." Darcy could tell that she was upset by the directive, but had determined to follow it. He was correct to assume that she feared alienating his father as they had her own. As long as she was permitted to keep in touch with her relations, she supposed that she could bear the separation for the sake of family harmony. In truth, she did not expect to be much in London anyway. She knew how her husband preferred the country and it seemed as though his father was much the same.

The Gardiners were understanding of the situation, if disappointed. Mr. Gardiner iterated to Elizabeth that she could always come to them for any reason and Mrs. Gardiner swore to be a frequent correspondent. They had arrived earlier and stayed much longer than a polite call allowed, but Elizabeth was still disappointed when it was time to leave.

Darcy and Elizabeth spent the first part of the afternoon strolling together in the park. As it was an unfashionable time to be in London, nobody of Darcy's acquaintance seemed to be about and they were able to enjoy themselves without any interruptions. They both missed the freedom that the privacy of Scotland had given them; they could hardly run about fencing with sticks or wade in a lake here where anybody might see them.

Before returning home for the day, Darcy insisted on buying his wife a gift. He was unsure exactly what she would need, but knew that her simple gowns from Hertfordshire would not help her move in his society, so he led her to the modiste he knew his mother had once patronized and asked the proprietor to provide Elizabeth with a small variety of dresses that would befit her station during the coming months. He hoped that she would find a mentor to guide her before the season began and help complete her wardrobe; perhaps his aunt could fill that role. Nervous about spending her husband's money, or worse, that of her father-in-law, Elizabeth attempted to decline the finery. Eventually, she was persuaded to order two gowns. To Darcy's chagrin, neither one was appropriate for an evening at the theatre.

Eventually, they did return to the town-house, where Darcy gave Elizabeth a complete tour, ending with the two bedroom suite that his father had allotted for their use. Although he knew very little about any sort of fashion, even Darcy could tell that the furnishings were quite out of date. Besides, they had a dark, dreary quality to them that he would be loath to see every day. He encouraged Elizabeth to select entirely new furnishings before they moved into it.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, no, it will be so expensive."

"Hang the expense, Lizzy. Do you really think you can be happy here?"

"I can be happy anywhere as long as I have you."

He could not help but kiss her following this remark, but continued to insist upon a change. "My father was correct when he declared this suite out of date. For some reason, my mother neglected it when she redecorated the town-house after their marriage. No, you must do something about these draperies, they are so . . . depressing. Of course, if you loved it, I would stay here only to be with you, but you can hardly wish to live like this."

"What I hardly wish is to be a nuisance."

"You are not a nuisance, you are Mrs. Darcy and it shall be done as you say. Now, what about these furnishings?"

Elizabeth agreed that it was for the best that they be changed and agreed to select a new colour scheme on the morrow.

As she joined him in bed that night, Elizabeth shyly admitted to her husband that her courses had ended, but she was unsure what to do next and so lay beside him in her nightgown, waiting. When he put his arms around her, she responded in kind and eagerly accepted his kisses. Darcy struggled with the hem of her gown for a time, but it was firmly trapped beneath her body and he had to ask her to sit up in order to remove it, which he did along with his own nightshirt. He pressed kisses to her breasts and down her stomach, but was encouraged by her tugging hands to return to her mouth, where she kissed him enthusiastically as she rubbed her lower body against him.

Although they were still unpractised at the act, their mutual experience had rendered the newly-weds marginally confident and their reunion went smoothly. Elizabeth was pleased to find that not only was there no sharp pain; even her residual soreness, whether it had been from horseback riding or marital relations, had receded completely. She found herself whispering not only her husband's name, but also desperate pleas for "more" as he stroked her from within. Darcy found his completion only seconds after his wife, and fell heavily upon her, exhausted with the effort of not only their lovemaking, but also the days of abstention that had led up to it.

"Fitzwilliam?" Her voice sounded breathless and distant from below him. He blinked a few times before he realized that he was crushing her and rolled quickly to the side.

"I am sorry, Elizabeth," he kissed the corner of her mouth,"I will try not to do that in the future."

"Mmmm," was her only verbal response as she cuddled up under his arm, slinging one leg across his and using his chest as her pillow.

The next morning, Darcy was roused by some faint noise. Before he could react in his sleepy state, he saw the door to his dressing room swing open and a man come through it.

"Ah, Master Fitzwilliam, welcome back from -" The valet was stopped in his tracks by the unprecedented sight of a woman in his master's bed.

Darcy hurried to cover Elizabeth fully with the sheets and dismissed his valet, wondering why the man had come back to work. He had been given leave for the duration of his employer's tour and was not expected to return until officially summoned. Darcy sighed and got out of bed, donning his nightshirt and drawing the bed curtains around his still slumbering wife before heading for his dressing room.

"Stevens," he addressed his valet upon entering the small room, "why have you come to London?" He sat down and allowed the man to shave him as they conversed.

"Mrs. Reynolds sent for me, Sir, she said you had returned." He looked embarrassed to bring up the next topic. "I am sorry to have intruded, Master Fitzwilliam, I did not know that you had, er, company."

"Yes, Stevens, there will be some changes to our routine now that I am a married man." He ignored the man's surprised expression and went on. "Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy and I will not wish to be disturbed by anyone who does not knock first and await a response before entering."

"Of course, Sir. May I ask when such a joyous event took place? Mrs. Reynolds reported nothing of it in her letter."

"She would not have since she did not know, we wished to inform my father of our marriage first, and we saw him only upon coming to London. We have been wed for just over a week now."

"Congratulations, Sir. Will she be making use of your dressing room as well?" Stevens looked around doubtfully, not seeing adequate space for a lady's things.

"No, her gowns are located in the dressing room next door for now, but we will both be relocating as soon as our suite can be redecorated. I am sure you will work with the staff to see that my things are situated properly in their new location when the time comes." Suddenly, something occurred to Darcy and he jerked, causing a small cut on his cheek. "Oh!"

"I am terribly sorry, Sir."

"It is not your fault, Stevens, I have only just realized that Elizabeth – Mrs. Darcy does not have a maid of her own, I must speak with Mrs. Drummond today."

The valet finished shaving him and was drying his face when a soft voice called from the other room. "Fitzwilliam?"

"I am coming, love." He called, then turned to his servant. "You are dismissed, Stevens, I can finish readying myself for the day."

The man looked dubious, but bowed and retreated to the servants' hallway as his master entered the bedroom.

Darcy greeted his drowsy wife with kisses as she sat up in bed, then helped her dress as he had every morning since their marriage. He had learned to dress himself efficiently during his brief tour and was soon ready to face the day as well. For the most part, Elizabeth was also capable of taking care of herself in the morning, having shared only one maid among five sisters, but did require a second pair of hands in order to properly secure her corset.

When they went downstairs, Darcy summoned Stevens and introduced the man properly to his wife. The valet was deferential to the new mistress, but visibly unimpressed with his master's ability to ready himself alone. It was true that Darcy knew only one knot in which to tie his cravat, but as a traveller, he had not required variety. He saw the disdainful look aimed at his throat and knew that he would have to re-accustom himself to being attended. He asked Mrs. Drummond to wait upon them as well and informed her that a competent ladies' maid would need to be acquired for Elizabeth.

The housekeeper proved to be incredibly efficient. By the time the Darcys were ready to retire that evening, a young woman named Jessica was there in Elizabeth's temporary chambers. It turned out the girl was the niece of another housekeeper in the area who had been well-trained as a maid but unable to find a position due to the growing fashion for French attendants. Over the next several days, she proved to be an excellent choice.

Jessica was well-versed in the latest fashion, and helped her new mistress choose the most appropriate from the few gowns she had brought from Hertfordshire while she waited for her new ones to become ready. Although Darcy preferred to see his wife's hair unbound, he knew such a sight was for his eyes only and even he could not argue with the attractiveness of the styles that she now wore outside of the house. His own fashion improved with the return of his valet and the striking pair was now fashionable as they went out onto the streets of London.

A few days after his father's departure, Darcy realized that a marriage announcement would have to be published, they were getting strange looks on the street from people who knew him enough to wonder, but not well enough to venture an introduction. Before such an announcement could be printed, however, he knew that his family would have to be informed. As none of his father's siblings had survived to adulthood, his late great-uncle had been the last of the extended Darcy family. His mother's kin, however, were very much alive and particularly interested in his life. He drafted three letters; one to his grandmother, the dowager Lady Matlock, one to his aunt, Lady Catherine DeBourgh, and one to his uncle, Lord Matlock, in which he begged the man not to blame his own son, Richard, for failing to be forthcoming with the information. Once the letters had been on their way for two days, Darcy deemed it safe to place an announcement in the newspaper.

After conferring with Elizabeth, he decided to send a copy of the paper to her father, in the hopes that it would help the man to accept their marriage. The special messenger brought it back unopened, which made his wife cry in despair.

"My love," he suggested gently, "I recall that you have a close friend in Meryton. Someone who is not under the authority of your father could perhaps spread the news of our marriage."

The suggestion reminded Elizabeth that she had not corresponded with her friend Charlotte Lucas since she had been in Scotland. She had last written in despair that she would never see her love again, but no letters had since been exchanged and, thanking her husband for the idea, she immediately began to compose a letter.

London

2nd September

My Dear Charlotte,

I am sorry to have been such a neglectful correspondent these past few weeks, but when you hear my reason, you shall be sure to forgive me. When last I wrote, I was suffering from the loss of my love, but no longer! I re-encountered the enigmatic Mr. F. D. a fortnight after my last missive and we were married almost immediately at a small church in Scotland. As you may have heard, we went to Hertfordshire last week to acquaint my family with our situation, but, angry with what he perceived as scandalous behaviour, my father ejected us from his home. He will accept neither my husband, nor myself so long as I remain his wife. Consequently, I have been forbidden from corresponding with my mother and sisters. Therefore, I ask of you a favour as my friend; that you tell my family I love them and even show them this letter so that they can know how happy I am in my marriage. In fact, the only thing I require to be truly content is the acceptance of my family.

I do not include my new name so that when you do show this missive to my mother and sisters, they might not be burdened with knowledge that has been forbidden by my father until such a time as he is able to forgive what he currently views as an unpardonable transgression.

My husband has one sister, who is similar in age to Lydia and Maria and seems like a delightful girl. She is coming soon to London with her father to study with a pianoforte master and we shall remain in town for the little season before returning to Derbyshire, where my husband's father has his estate. I know not of our plans for the season next year, but if your father brings you to London as he has suggested he might, I do hope that we will be able to meet.

Although my name has changed, I remain your devoted friend,

Elizabeth D.

She sealed the letter and handed it to her husband to post with a smile on her face, optimistic now about getting word to her sisters regarding her well being.

Elizabeth was in a good mood for the rest of the day, and playfully allowed Darcy more liberties than she previously had when in the public rooms of the house. He chased her from one room to the next before finally cornering her in the library, where she collapsed on the sofa in a fit of laughter.

"Oh, Fitzwilliam, your father has twice as many books as mine!"

"You have not yet seen the library at Pemberley."

"I am so looking forward to that. May I read whatever I wish?"

"Anything your heart desires, Lizzy, but I did not bring you here to discuss literature."

"You did not bring me here at all, I brought you!"

He sat beside her on the sofa, trapping her in the circle of his arms. "Ah, you have fallen for my ploy. In truth, we are here by my design and you are my prisoner."

"Perhaps I can seduce my jailer to set me free." She leaned toward him so that her lips were a hair's breadth from his and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Might that work?"

His own voice had gone hoarse. "It is certainly worth attempting" He closed his eyes and tilted his head forward just enough to kiss her, but encountered only air, then he heard giggling. Darcy was mildly frustrated at the missed contact, but delighted, as always, in the sound of his wife's musical laughter. He opened his eyes and saw that she had shrunk back against the cushions and was looking at him through her lashes in a seductive manner. Bringing his mouth down too quickly for her to move again, Darcy captured her lips with his own. She put up no resistance and even pulled him more tightly to herself, using the curly locks of his hair to hold on to him. They kissed for several minutes, delighting in their closeness before he began touching her sensually, allowing his hands to roam across her body on top of her gown, disregarding entirely the wrinkles he was surely causing. Eventually, he could not be satisfied touching fabric, and one hand ventured beneath the hem of her dress to slide slowly up her leg, he had just reached her knee when they heard a voice.

"Mrs. Darcy, I am afraid there is a problem with the menu for dinner this evening." Mrs. Drummond's voice was more clear than it ought to be. Elizabeth realized with horror that the door was open and they were about to be caught. Panicked, she pushed away her amorous husband and straightened her skirt as best she could before the housekeeper's head appeared in the doorway. "Madam, I am sorry to disturb you." She saw Darcy sitting there but pretended not to notice his dishevelled state. "Good afternoon, Sir."

He politely acknowledged her, but made no move to leave, waiting patiently as the women discussed the substitution of one dish for another. The moment Mrs. Drummond was out the door, he moved in that direction himself, although he remained inside as he shut and locked it. Darcy stood for a moment, with his back against the library door and studied his wife, sitting primly on the sofa, her eyebrows raised in expectation. He stalked toward her slowly and watched a smile spread across Elizabeth's face as he approached. Just when she thought he might sit down beside her, he pounced, forcing her to recline on the furniture as he pinned her with his body.

"Oh!" A cry of surprise came from beneath him. Concerned, Darcy propped himself up on his elbow long enough to inquire as to his lady's well-being. Upon being assured that she was perfectly fine, he proceeded to kiss her as he had before the interruption. His hands moved quickly beneath her skirts where he found her warm and moist to his touch.

"Mmm, please," she whispered hoarsely as she tilted her head back so that he could kiss her neck. Darcy could think of no response but to unfasten his breeches and join with her. "Yes," Elizabeth moaned with delight as their bodies came together at last. His tongue travelled across her décolletage and neck, darting sporadically into her ear as he moved over her rhythmically. Within minutes, her moans had reached a crescendo and her arms were tightening around him as she reached the pinnacle of her pleasure, spurring her husband to find his own.

"I love you, Lizzy." His breath was hot in her ear.

"I love you too, Fitz." They lay together on the sofa, contented for some time before finally righting their clothing, unlocking the library door, and going about their day as if nothing untoward had occurred.

The happy couple spent the next several days delighting in each other's company. Darcy eschewed the idea of frequenting a club and instead accompanied his new wife back to the modiste where he insisted that she procure some additional gowns, if only to make up for what she had left behind in Hertfordshire. Still conscious that she might become a financial burden on her new family, Elizabeth avoided ordering many items, using her ignorance of current fashions as an excuse. Her husband gave her the option to postpone, if not decline, an entirely new wardrobe but Elizabeth allowed that she felt under-dressed when strolling through the park, so she let him purchase for her another two gowns, simple enough to suit her taste, but fine enough for her new position. He then proceeded to take her to a jeweller, where she stood uncomfortably as he showed her one expensive item after another and asked her to choose a proper wedding present.

Miss Elizabeth Bennet had never worn much jewellery. She had borrowed a pair of ruby earrings from her mother on the occasion of her coming out in Meryton society and had worn a small garnet cross around her neck from the age of ten until the week after she had become Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy. As they stood in the shop, a plethora of jewels spread out around them, Darcy could not stop his hand from drifting to her neck, where his fingers gently traced the hollow of her throat, now empty of adornment.

Although he had not mentioned it at the time out of concern for his wife's emotional well-being, Darcy had noticed when she stopped wearing the necklace. Although they had spoken neither of the cross nor its disappearance, he knew what it must mean to her. He correctly deduced that it had been a gift from her father and that the man's rejection hurt her even more deeply than her tears testified. What he did not know, and could not ask for fear of upsetting her, was whether the necklace had been left at Longbourn or brought with her to her new life as a painful reminder of her old one.

Either way, he supposed, a necklace would suit her admirably. Despite her protests, it was obvious that Elizabeth had certain preferences when it came to jewellery She admired the large, shiny gems, but her eyes did not light up with desire at these more expensive pieces. He noted instead, how she seemed drawn to a thin gold strand with a single winking diamond pendant. It was elegant and refined, yet understated. In a way, it reminded Darcy of his wife and was not surprised that she should like it. She reluctantly acquiesced to its purchase, but refused a pair of matching earrings as too extravagant. They left the store with only one item as Darcy shook his head indulgently at her modesty.

The newly-weds spent every night together in the chamber where Darcy had slept since graduating from the nursery although Elizabeth did use her own dressing room as there was little space in his. Each morning, she would stand, wrapped in her robe, as he checked the hall for servants before she scurried next door to get ready for the day. It felt strange to be sneaking about as though they were doing something wrong, although it would have been stranger indeed for Elizabeth to encounter anybody but her maid while clad in her dressing gown.

Renovations to their future suite were well under way. The new Mrs. Darcy had selected colours for the walls and furnishings that her eager-to-please husband had approved almost without looking. She wondered for a moment if she had decorated it entirely in pink taffeta, what he would have done. She had this thought one evening as she was climbing into bed.

"What is it that amuses you so, Elizabeth?"

Her husband's voice brought to her attention that she had laughed aloud at her recent thought, which only made her smile more. "I am thinking about pink, my love."

"I often consider that colour myself."

"That seems an unusual subject for a gentleman to ponder. Is there any particular shade that captures your notice?" She pulled the counterpane over her lap as she awaited his reply.

He gazed at her from across the room, a wild glint in his eyes and he stalked toward her as he gave his answer. "The first shade of pink that I thought to be my favourite is the colour that paints itself upon your lovely cheeks whenever you have cause to blush." She smiled and he stepped forward, going on. "The next pink I noticed, I found I liked even more, for it is the colour of your lips, all the more pronounced when they are swollen from kissing." The premier shade began to appear on his wife's face at the remembrance of his kisses. "The most delightful shade of pink, however, is one I have never seen on Miss Bennet," she looked at him strangely until he completed his thought, "I have seen it only as a most cherished part of Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy." He reached the bed and tugged the counterpane from her middle. "In fact, I have an overwhelming urge to gaze upon that very colour now."

He grasped the hem of Elizabeth's nightgown and began to pull it upward. She was exposed to the knees before his meaning was fully understood by his still largely innocent wife. "Fitzwilliam!" She admonished him as he sought the colour that lay hidden between her thighs, laughing nervously and causing her blush to deepen.

"I desire to see all my favourite colours of pink every night." Darcy lowered himself to the bed beside her and began kissing her fervently. Elizabeth's embarrassment was nothing to her desire for him, and she reached out to draw him closer. He wrapped his arms around her back, and her nightdress earned a short reprieve, although eventually it was discarded, as was his own apparel in pursuit of the evening's finale.