"… wilt thou have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God's ordinance in the holy estate of Matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all other, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?"

"I will."

Standing before the vicar, Elizabeth listened as the solemn vows were recited; their hallowed words rising from the sacred pages held open before them. Beside her stood Mr. Darcy, tall and stoic as he too felt the mighty weight of this moment upon their lives, upon the lives all those connected with their own.

"Who giveth this woman to be married to this man?"

"I do," Mr. Gardiner responded, her hand presented to the vicar before soon joining with that of her betrothed. His skin surprisingly soft as he grasped her hand gently; the warmth of his touch chasing the chill of the cold church air from her fingers.

Elizabeth had woken that morning to find an unusual silence had descended upon the Gardiner townhouse. The distant sound of children's laughter was nowhere to be heard, nor the trotting of tiny feet running along the corridor. The gentle sound of Jane's breathing was silent as well, glancing over her shoulder to discover her sister's absence from their bed. Even the calming comfort of the London rains were gone, as the sun peeked brightly through the chamber curtains. The only sound remaining was the one upon which she could always rely: the quiet ticking of the mantle clock, counting down the minutes until she would dress and leave the Gardiner townhouse, entering into her new life as Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Turning onto her back, her eyes soon settle on the gown she had chosen for this day, hanging from the closet door. It was one of the three she had initially ordered from Mrs. Dowery, one of the few she could truly call her own: a gown of dark sage silk draped with a fine, cream overlay. Delicate gold and dusky pink threads weaving vines of roses throughout the sheer fabric; a wide ribbon of matching green bound beneath the bodice. It had captured her notice at once as they had strolled among the rivers of silks hanging from the rafters of Mr. Gardiner's warehouse; the modiste having surpassed even her own level of excellence in creating the garment. Though at the time, not one of them having any manner of predicting just how significant it would become in her rapidly-shifting life.

In the small window of time they had between their engagement and hastened nuptials, the Bennet sisters and their aunt had managed to return to the modiste's shop to order several additional gowns, as well as other garments she would require, creating some small trousseau with which she would be able to begin her marriage, although it would not be completed in time for their departure to Hertfordshire.

As the mantle clock chimed the arrival of the eight o'clock hour, she rose from her bed for the last time, ready to begin her preparations as their appointment with the vicar was now but two hours away. Ringing for tea, she was not surprised to find it arriving with her sister and aunt, along with her aunt's maid, all on hand to assist her in dressing for her special day.

Elizabeth had expected to be saddened by the absence of her mother and younger sisters as she dressed, a significant moment in any young woman's life, as well as that of a mother preparing one of her own to leave the nest. But as the three of them chatted casually, Aunt Madeline sharing stories from her own nuptials as Jane tied the matching silk sash into a perfectly knotted bow, she found the quiet tranquility of the chamber far more comforting than she could have hoped for at Longbourn.

When at last the time arrived for their departure, Aunt Madeline had escorted Jane from the room, allowing Elizabeth a few moments to take in her surroundings one last time. For any time spent in London from that moment forward would be passed at Darcy House, the home of her husband. The soothing green walls such a comfort to her during the tumult of the past seven weeks, she considered briefly the possibility of recreating the space in her new chambers at Berkeley Square. From the green velvet chair situated beside the fireplace to the window looking down upon the garden below, places in which she had struggled to overcome the memories of past horrors and future fears, where she had spent hours debating Mr. Darcy's proposal and her acceptance thereafter. Allowing herself one more tour of these spaces, she turned towards the chamber door and with the drawing of a deep breath and her head held high, she exited the chamber.

Now standing before her betrothed, surrounded by only a small number of family and friends, she found her nerves far more settled than she could have anticipated but a fortnight prior. Greeted warmly by the Matlocks and Georgiana, she was reminded that she was no longer as isolated as she had once felt, a new family welcoming her into their fold. And her groom, admittedly striking in his wedding attire, grasping her hand warmly within his own, reminding her of the kindness, tenderness, and generosity she had found in the darkest of hours.

The solemn timber of his voice as he recited his vows, his eyes gazing steadily into her own, affected her deeply, "I, Fitzwilliam Darcy, take thee Elizabeth Bennet to my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."

Feeling a bit breathless as she then recited her vows in return, she could not help but notice the slight quirk of his lips as she vowed obedience, a subtle enough shift in the mood between them to allow her to breath fully once more.

However, when he then presented to the vicar the ring he had selected, her breath caught again. A beautiful emerald stone bordered by two smaller diamonds, it was elegant without ostentation, beautiful in its simplicity. Humbled she listened as the vicar recited his blessing and watched in a daze as Mr. Darcy once more took up her hand, the cool gold band eliciting a slight shiver as he settled it upon her finger.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

And as the vicar's words once again washed over her, she forced her gaze from the elegant band, returning her attention to her husband, for now she could indeed call him such. And with their hands joined once more in a symbolic display of their union, the vicar declared, "Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder."

Then escorted to the register, Elizabeth Bennet signed her given name for the last time; Jane and Mr. Bingley signing as witnesses to her union.

***PnP***

"Mrs. Darcy, pray allow me to offer my sincerest congratulations to you and your husband!"

"I thank you, Mr. Bingley," she replied, her countenance schooled in a guise of serenity despite the piquing of her nerves upon observing the gentleman's arrival. Seeking to mask her mounting concerns for her sister, Elizabeth then offered her appreciation for his role in their ceremony along with her well wishes for Mrs. Hurst. "We are so terribly sorry Caroline and the Hursts were unable to be with us today to celebrate."

"I thank you. They are indeed quite sorry they were unable to join us today as well," he answered. "Louisa has been rather unwell this week past; the early hours of the day being particularly troublesome for her. However, she has found great comfort in the care with which Caroline has tended her, and I am certain she shall be very grateful indeed to receive your well wishes."

Spending a few moments longer engaging in congenial chitchat about the ceremony and mild weather they had been blessed with for the occasion, the gentleman soon proceeded to make his way about the drawing room, greeting and chatting amicably with those assembled. Observing him pensively as he withdrew, Elizabeth found herself meditating upon his words for a few moments, calling into question her own suspicions surrounding the nature of the sisters' absence. But as she in truth held little desire in finding herself the target of Miss Bingley's animosities on a day such as this, she soon cast from her mind thoughts pertaining to them all together, instead scanning the room in an attempt to seek out her own sister.

The decision to ask Mr. Bingley to stand with Mr. Darcy had been a cause of concern for both the bride and groom. Forever mindful of the tenuous history between he and Jane – as well as Mr. Darcy's own role in undermining the burgeoning relationship – Elizabeth had been concerned for Jane's well-being at finding herself once again in the gentleman's presence; her heart still mending following the disappointment of her hopes. The groom likewise shared his own concerns with regards to the reunion, offering only that he believed it not to be in his friend's best interest. But with his initial intention of asking the Colonel to stand with him no longer possible, he had felt honor-bound by their years of friendship to ask it of Charles.

Once the decision had indeed been made – and Mr. Bingley had accepted the honor in good cheer – Elizabeth had taken it upon herself to forewarn her sister of his presence. Receiving the news with her usual grace, Jane had expressed her well wishes for the gentleman, pleased that Mr. Darcy would be able to enjoy the company of his good friend on such an important day. However, the subtlety of her nerves in the days following had not gone unnoticed by her sister.

Espying Jane by the window overlooking Berkeley Square, she was relieved to see her engaged in what appeared to be a pleasant conversation with Georgiana and Lady Matlock; Mr. Bingley noticeably keeping to the opposite side of the drawing room as he chatted with Lord Matlock.

"May I refresh your glass for you?"

Startled slightly by the sound of her husband's voice, Elizabeth was reminded of his presence beside her, drawing her from her thoughts. "Yes, I thank you."

Pensively, she watched him as he retreated to the refreshment table, which the staff had meticulously prepared for the wedding party's pleasure upon their return. A large crystal punch bowl was centered in the display – one that was in truth too large for the small gathering assembled – surrounded by a modest array of pastries and fruits, designed to offer their guests a light repast as they awaited the arrival of all their invitees. Once assembled, the small party would be treated to a feast prepared by the fastidious staff of Darcy House, who had risen to the call with exceptional vigor in preparing the celebrations for their master's marriage.

Perusing the room once more, she reflected upon the intimate gathering, one far smaller than would be expected of a personage of the First Circle. With the necessity for discretion paramount, they had elected to keep the ceremony and following celebration limited to only those who were already aware of their engagement, those whom they could entrust with their privacy: the Matlocks, Georgiana, Mrs. Annesley, Mr. Bingley, Jane, and the Gardiners, who had returned home briefly following the ceremony to retrieve her cousins, whom she wished to see one last time before returning to Hertfordshire.

Accepting the glass of punch offered by her husband, Elizabeth inquired after the absence of Mr. Darcy's cousin, whom she had recently learned from Lady Matlock resided in London but had not been so fortunate as to meet yet. In curious interest, she then observed a shift in the gentleman's expression, hardening into one of evident disdain.

"Edward and I do not care for one another's company," he explained, pulling his eyes from her as he too glanced about the drawing room. "His presence on this day would have been most unwelcome."

Surprised to hear this, she inquired after the cause of such a rift between cousins, but her curiosity was to be disappointed by the vagueness of the gentleman's answer, citing only a divergence in their interests and tastes.

Electing not to pursue this line of questions, as it appeared quite distasteful to her husband, Elizabeth instead shifted their conversation towards a happier mood, complimenting the labors of his staff in preparing the celebrations.

"Yes, Mrs. Chadwick was, I believe, quite honored to be charged with the task, and Mrs. Avery has had the kitchen working tirelessly to prepare the wedding feast." Receiving his bride's praises as to the excellence of their work, he added, "I am sure they both shall be quite delighted to hear you are as pleased with their labors as I am."

"I must be sure to thank them personally when next I see them," she remarked, pausing for a moment before being struck with the revelation: "But then I suppose that shall be sometime today."

How peculiar it was indeed to be reminded that this was now her home, the staff hers to command; such a sudden shift in one's world momentarily sparking a bout of nerves. Soon all would leave; her aunt and uncle returning to Gracechurch as she would once more be left alone with Mr. Darcy. Well, as alone as one could be with a house filled with servants and two sisters.

"Mrs. Darcy," Lord Matlock greeted as he approached. "Pray, accept my sincerest of congratulations."

"I thank you, Sir," she replied, her smile shakier than she would have liked as she sought to push such thoughts from her mind.

Complimenting the ceremony as well as the vicar's performance of it, he then turned his accolades upon the bride herself, quipping, "And how could he be otherwise with such a lovely, young bride standing before him."

Her cheeks glowing in receipt of such flattery, Elizabeth thanked him, her eyes flicking modestly towards her groom, whom though flushed slightly in response seconded his uncle's observation. "Yes, I am the most fortunate of men."

As Lord Matlock then inquired after Mr. Gardiner's whereabouts, observing that he had hoped for the opportunity to continue their discussion of the tradesman's business, Elizabeth explained the absence of her aunt and uncle on collecting the children, "I am sure they shall join us shortly."

As her groom and his uncle then turned to a conversation about some common acquaintance with who she was unfamiliar, Elizabeth once again glanced about the drawing room, finding herself growing increasingly distressed to discover Mr. Bingley had now made his way towards the window overlooking Berkeley Square.

And Jane.

Excusing herself from the gentlemen's presence, she made her way as gracefully – yet hurriedly – as she could towards the refreshment table situated nearby, positioning herself in a manner which would allow her to eavesdrop on their conversation and hopefully step-in to lend whatever aid may be needed.

"Miss Bennet, what a tremendous pleasure it is indeed to see you again!" Mr. Bingley greeted; Jane receiving the compliment graciously. "Pray, accept my sincerest of felicitations on the marriage of your sister and your new brother."

"I thank you, Sir."

"It has been quite some time since last we met," he then observed, recalling once more the ball at Netherfield. And in securing her agreement likewise, he then inquired after her time in London, "I am to understand from your sister that you have been in Town for some time?"

"Yes, I have been caring for the children of Lord and Lady Daventry," she replied, "but have recently returned to my Uncle's house to assist my sister in preparing for her wedding."

"And shall you be returning to the Lord's employ once the Darcys leave for Hertfordshire?"

"No, I shall be traveling to Longbourn to be reunited with my mother and sisters."

"How greatly you must anticipate such a reunion!"

"I do indeed." She then proceeded to summarize Mr. Darcy's intention to relocate the family to the south, to a house charmingly situation by the sea. But the conversation quickly became slow and stilted and Jane, at a loss as to what to say next, eventually inquired after the gentlemen's own intentions with regards to Hertfordshire.

Visibly growing uncomfortable with the conversation, Mr. Bingley shuffled nervously in his stance, his eyes dropping to his punch glass as he answered, "No, I no longer hold the lease on Netherfield."

"I am a certain the neighborhood must be quite saddened by the loss of your society, as well as that of your sisters." Glancing about, she then came to realize the absence of Caroline and Mrs. Hurst, inquiring after the well-being of his family.

Repeating his earlier assertion to Elizabeth concerning the illness of his eldest sister, Mrs. Hurst, he shared their apology at being unable to attend such a happy moment in the life of the Bennett family.

Sharing her well wishes for a rapid return to good health, Jane appeared to be at a loss for what to say next, as was Mr. Bingley for any further dialogs posed the very great risk for greater discomfort. Sensing this as well, Elizabeth soon joined the conversation to reiterate her gratitude to Mr. Bingley for his presence at their nuptials.

Visibly relieved at having a third join their tête-à-tête, Mr. Bingley turned his attention to her, inquiring after the newlywed's plans following the ceremony. Echoing Jane's prior comments with regards to their approaching journeys, she quietly observed the pinkish tint rising in the gentleman's ears and cheeks as he realized his faux pas.

"And shall you be remaining in Sidmouth, Miss Bennet? Or will you be returning to London?"

"I shall be remaining in Sidmouth. I suspect Mama will require the assistance of us all as we settle into our new home."

"Tis a shame that you will not be able to visit Pemberley with your sister then."

"It is my hope that we shall be able do so in the summer."

"Oh yes, you certainly must!" Elizabeth exclaimed before then explaining that she and her husband would not be returning to Pemberley anytime in the near future, as their plans were to remain in London for the remainder of the Season.

"And would you not wish to join them, Miss Bennet, and enjoy at least some of the Season?"

"I fear I have been too long from home and truly wish to be reunited with my mother and sisters as soon as may be. Perhaps next year I shall feel more obliged to spending the Season in London with my sister and her husband."

"Just a shame then that this may be the last we see of one another for some time," he observed; his gaze fixing on her for several long moments as he awaited her response; an expression Elizabeth had seen only too many times before settling over his features.

"I am certain we shall have many opportunities to be in one another's company."

Thankfully, at that moment the need for any further conversation was interrupted by the rambunctious arrival of the Gardiner children and their parents. Excusing themselves, Elizabeth and Jane returned to their relatives' side in order to welcome them to Darcy House.

"I hope we did not delay the celebrations too long," Mr. Gardiner jested, taking in the room and its occupants with good cheer.

"No, not at all," Elizabeth assured. "I would not wish to celebrate this day without the company of my cousins." Bending to hug each child and welcome them personally, she announced that the feast would be ready shortly. She and Jane then escorted the children to the refreshments table, assisting them with selecting fruits and pastries with which they could entertain themselves until the meal was ready.

For his part, Mr. Darcy was as relieved as Elizabeth to see the conversation between Mr. Bingley and Jane interrupted, the former electing to return his attention once more towards Lord Matlock, joining him and Mr. Gardiner in a sharing of congratulations.

Seizing the opportunity to pursue a discussion of business, as the ladies were preoccupied with assisting the children, Lord Matlock posed a theory which had recently gripped him, inquiring after Mr. Darcy of a business proposal he had once mentioned involving a linen-draper's shop.

"Yes, however this is hardly the appropriate time for business," was all his nephew provided in response.

Tisking aside such considerations, the Lord turned instead to Mr. Gardiner, inquiring after his line of business, seeking to establish if this was indeed the opportunity to which his nephew had previously referred.

Seeming surprised by the mention of the linen-draper proposal, Mr. Gardiner turned to his new nephew-in-law with a bit of a surprise before then commenting that yes, it was an idea he had at one point discussed with the gentleman from Derbyshire. Inquiring after more information, the Lord then listened in rather rapt attention as the tradesman explained his interest in potentially pursuing a second line of business, explaining the economic benefits it could pose to both his company as well as he and his partner in the endeavor.

"It does seem quite a fascinating prospect," Lord Matlock observed, the wheels of his mind clearly turning as he digested all he had heard.

"It is not a prospect which Mr. Easton and I are prepared to pursue at this time though," Mr. Gardiner warned, expressing his concerns about the potential for loss of profit should such an expensive endeavor fail to yield the expected results.

"But if one were to find investors to help offset the cost of pursuing these endeavors, then the risk to Mr. Easton and Mr. Gardiner would be reduced," Mr. Bingley than observed.

"Yes," Mr. Gardiner allowed. "It is an aspect of the expansion which we have recently been discussing, but have not at this time yet decided what path we wish to pursue."

Lord Matlock then stated, "I find your idea quite intriguing and must indeed contemplate it in a bit more detail. But perhaps if you become interested in pursuing this path of business, you may have already secured an investor or two's interest," he joked.

"I do thank you, Sir, for your interest. I shall certainly discuss the matter with Mr. Easton and let you know what we decide."

"Surely you are not discussing matters of business during a wedding celebration!" Lady Matlock chided as she approached the group.

"What else is there for us to discuss?" the Lord countered.

A sharp retort dying on her tongue, the lady chose not to rise to her husband's bait and instead shared her felicitations with the groom and the uncle of the bride. Soon the door opened to reveal Mr. Hawkins himself, come to issue the call to luncheon. With all parties moving to the dining room, they were indeed treated to quite the feast, all partaking heartily of the assortment of rolls, meats, and eggs; the children taking great pleasure in the chocolate which had been served as a special treat. For her part, Elizabeth was quite taken with the elegance of the display; the wedding cake looking particularly stunning with it's fine, white icing.

And with everyone gathered together for the first time, sharing tales and japes over their meal, laughter over the children's hijinks, the two worlds of Fitzwilliam Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet came together for a jovial hour of celebration, one which would be treasured by all those gathered for years to come.

However, the time to depart did soon arrive. Announcing their intentions to leave, the Darcys enjoyed one last toast from their friends and family before retreating from the room, climbing the grand staircase in quiet leisure. Gaining the landing, Mr. Darcy led his new bride towards their chambers, noting as they walked that he had instructed Mrs. Chadwick to place Jane in the Yellow Room so that she may be close to her sister.

Thanking him for his consideration, she struggled to mask the unease which she felt growing with each successive step. By the time they arrived at the door to her new chamber, she could feel the rapid staccato of her heart beating in her throat, making it difficult to find her breath as he opened the door and escorted her inside.

The chamber was much like she remembered it; the outdated and vibrant décor overwhelming her as she entered the space, this time as its newest occupant. Withdrawing her hand from his arm, she moved further into the room, placing some much needed distance between them as she struggled to quell her nerves. Whether he could readily detect her unease she knew not, but as he gave little indication to it as he spoke, she could only hope that he remained ignorant of her disquiet.

"If there is any comfort which may have been overlooked, pray hesitate not to alert me so, and I shall have Mrs. Chadwick attend to it at once," he offered.

"I thank you," was all she could manage in response, turning nervously as her gaze swept the room, noting the small comforts which had surely been added since her previous tour. A selection of books rested on the table near the hearthside chair; the flames of the fire built within helping to warm the chamber. Her trunks she noticed had been placed in the corner beside the closet, a day dress freshly pressed and hanging from the door.

"If you wish, I shall have a maid summoned to assist you with your trunks."

"No, thank you," she responded quickly, her cheeks flushing lightly with embarrassment at finding her tone sharper than she had intended.

Nodding, Mr. Darcy shifted in his stance, betraying his own unease as he still had yet to move from his place beside the door. Finally seeming to remember himself, he broke the silence which had followed by moving towards the two doors she had noted on her previous visit. Opening one, he gestured for her to follow, explaining, "Your dressing room."

Entering the small room, she discovered the space to be one designed for comfort. A cherry dressing table and looking glass were positioned on one wall, already stocked with several bottles of toiletries which a lady would require; a sterling silver hair brush and comb set catching her eye. A blue velvet arm chair and matching dressing screen were placed along the opposite wall, rendering it a cozy space in which to prepare herself for the day.

"If you wish, I am certain Georgiana would be quite willing to ask her maid to assist you in dressing until such time as you are able to secure an abigail of your choosing."

Wishing to dismiss the notion out of hand, as she was well-practiced in dressing herself, she almost did so before her reason reminded her that woman in a position such as hers would be expected to employ the use of a maid, even if borrowed from her new sister in the interim. "I shall be sure to discuss the matter with Georgiana once we are returned from Hertfordshire."

Nodding once more, he then withdrew from the room, moving to the other door and confirming her suspicions that it was indeed his chamber which lay on the other side. "Should you find yourself in need of any assistance, pray hesitate not at all to knock for me."

Now she was the one to shift uneasily in her stance, unable to prevent her gaze from dropping to the handle, her heart pounding as she noticed that it did not appear to contain a lock; a door through which he would be able to enter whenever he so desired.

Seeming to notice her heightened unease, he was quick to reassure her, "Pray, know that I would never dream to trespass upon your privacy. I would never enter your chambers without your expressed consent."

Flooded with embarrassment at having her thoughts so readily detected, as well as with a sense of relief at such reassurances, her words stumbled briefly as she replied, "I…I… thank you for such consideration, Sir."

"Fitzwilliam," he corrected.

Looking to him in surprise, she was caught unawares by the earnestness of his gaze. Requiring a moment to gather herself, she acceded to his request, a brief nod of her head acknowledging such.

Pleased with her acceptance, he then expressed his hope that she would find her new chambers comfortable, and eliciting an agreement to meet in one hours' time in the drawing room for another tour of the house, he bowed and withdrew through the connecting door; the quiet catch of the latch leaving her alone to her thoughts.

***PnP***

Staring at the canopy hanging above her, Elizabeth listened as a clock somewhere along the hallway chimed the arrival of the one o'clock hour, the only sound that could penetrate the stillness of Darcy House.

Having retired to her bed three hours prior, she had found sleep elusive, leaving her with little else to do but succumb to the torment of her thoughts, those which shy from the cleansing light of day, yet lurk in the darkened shadows of the night. At first she had busied her mind with reflections on the events of the day, from the sacred ceremony at St. George's Church to the pleasant – although at times uncomfortable – wedding feast which followed, from the scene in her bed chamber to the quiet passing of the evening in the drawing room with her husband. While Jane and Georgiana had remained at home with them on this, their first day of marriage, they were careful to make themselves scarce following the conclusion of the celebrations, crossing paths with the newlyweds only at dinner before both devising some excuse to retire early.

When at last she had declared her intentions to retire, he again insisted on escorting her to her chamber, but this time parting way in the hallway outside her door, wishing her a pleasant night's rest as their journey on the morrow was sure to render the day long and tiring. Readying herself for bed, she had then settled comfortably in the sea of linens and warm blankets adorning her bed, electing to leave her bed curtains open despite the inevitable chill of the cold December air.

And there she remained, lying awake in her bed; her nerves jumping at the slightest of sounds. About an hour after she had retired, she detected the sound of someone in the hallway, steps moving along the corridor towards her bedchamber. Sitting up at once, she had listened on bated breath as they neared her door; her eyes searching for the handle in the darkness. But it was not the opening of her door which she heard next, but that of the chamber next to hers, that of her husband.

Reclining once more in her bed, she shifted onto her side, her eyes drawn to the connecting door, the handle reflecting dimly in the moonlight, as she could faintly discern his movements through the wall. The low sound of men's voices was audible through the door, likely conversations between Mr. Darcy and his valet. But soon the faint light glowing beneath the door was extinguished and silence once again filled the night.

Feeling foolish at being so easily frightened, she silently chastised herself for acting so silly. After all, Mr. Darcy had assured her numerous times of his commitment to her comfort and privacy, leaving her with no defensible reason to question him now, on their wedding night. Turning once more onto her back she had then allowed her thoughts to wander over each of her interactions with the gentleman, especially in these few weeks passed.

Her mind once again harkened back to the scene in a Gracechurch Street garden from but a few days prior:

"Yes, though I am sure she is still trying to imagine some way in which this has all been but a terrible misunderstanding. Dear Jane, always trying to see only the best in others. A trait I could only hope to someday possess."

"You see the good in only those who truly possess it."

Finally returning her attention to him, she studied him quietly for a few moments, her thoughts unreadable as she considered him. "Though it can, at times, take far too long for me to recognize it."

In the silence which followed, they considered one another thoughtfully. For it had indeed taken her far too long to recognize the goodness in Mr. Darcy; her prejudices against him, her pride hurt by an offhanded comment clouding her judgement. How lucky she was indeed to be given a second chance to see him for the man he truly was.

Then in wonder she watched as his eyes drifted, taking in her features with an intensity of interest she had not been prepared to expect, watching in astonishment as they soon dropped to her lips. And in that moment she could readily sense his desire, radiating unmistakably from him as he watched her.

Lying in the dark, she could not shake the memory of his expression, the clear desire he had felt to kiss her at that moment. And words which were never far from her thoughts once again forced their way into her consciousness:

"It is my hope that given time and the… familiarity inherent to such a union, that you may grow comfortable in our marriage… with me… to someday allow for greater intimacy."

It was an aspect of her future which she had repeatedly tried to avoid pondering upon for any great length of time; the horrors of King Street never far from her thoughts and at times paralyzing her in her fear. The pain, the degradation, the sheer terror too difficult to face. And while logically she knew she could not compare her experiences at the cruel and merciless hands of Geoffrey with what she would find in those of Mr. Darcy, reason did little to assuage the fear.

Even her conversation with Aunt Gardiner, one designed to help ease those concerns, garnered little influence as she lay alone in the darkness, her only protection lying in the vows of another.

A knock upon the drawing room door announced the arrival of Mrs. Morris, coming to notify the lady of the house that the children were ready for their nap. Sighing gently, Mrs. Gardiner turned to her eldest niece, who was at that moment sorting through a sewing basket filled with ribbons, to ask, "Jane dear, would you be able to assist Nurse White with the children?"

"Yes, Aunt." Setting her sewing basket aside, she then rose from her place beside her sister and followed the housekeeper from the room.

Concerned, Elizabeth inquired after her aunt's well-being, Mrs. Gardiner rarely passing on the opportunity to see to her children's afternoon naps. "Oh! Yes, I am well. I am but a bit tired at the moment. 'Tis not uncommon when one is with child," she observed. Then pausing for a moment, she returned her attention to the collection of herbs and dried flowers strewn about on the small table before them, commenting quietly, "As I am sure you shall one day learn."

Pausing in her work, Elizabeth was surprised to find herself in receipt of such a comment, looking to her aunt in surprise. But when she received no indication of a response, she returned her attention to the foliage clasped loosely in her hand, the beginnings of her bridal bouquet.

Contemplating on her aunt's words for a moment, she debated her desire to continue their conversation in such a vein, for some part of her did indeed wish to engage her aunt in just such a discussion. What better chance could there be to share her concerns, and to one whom would understand her fears, than this?

At last deciding to accept the opportunity her aunt was presenting, her voice low, she finally replied, "I fear it is not an experience I shall have for some time."

Her brow quirking in curiosity, Mrs. Gardiner asked, "Are you so certain?"

"Aye," she answered, fidgeting restlessly with the greens in her hand. "He has vowed to allow me time..." But unable to say more, she relied upon her aunt's sense to complete the thought for her.

"You have discussed the matter with Mr. Darcy?" Aunt Gardiner asked, turning to her niece in surprise, though her tone lacked any trace of censure.

Nodding, Elizabeth finally shared that portion of her conversation with the gentleman, her cheeks glowing hotly as she did, explaining afterwards her belief that, "I felt it too important to understanding what I was accepting in his proposal."

"And yet, accept him you did."

Nodding, Elizabeth observed that his offer was more than she could hope for or expected; the benefits it would provide her and her sisters too great to waste.

As silence followed her observation, both women contemplating all that had been said, it was Mrs. Gardiner who spoke next, her tone gentle as she asked, "You do realize Mr. Darcy loves you a great deal, do you not?"

Nodding, she replied, "I do."

"And you? How do you feel towards him?"

Chewing over her aunt's words, Elizabeth once again struggled to identify her owns feelings towards the gentleman. In all that had transpired between them, from hurtful words at a country assembly to the bridal bouquet she now held in her hands, her feelings towards the gentleman had been altered dramatically. While she knew for certain she did not yet love him, she did now believe it to one day be possible. But in considering future intimacies with him, she could think of little else than her experiences on King Street, to all she had seen and experienced. And in expressing so to her Aunt, listened attentively to what she said in response.

"I cannot imagine how deeply you have been hurt, the fears which must threaten to overtake you as you face each new day," she confessed. "I can only speak from my own experiences and based on my own observations."

Nodding in understanding, Elizabeth's countenance begged for her to continue.

"That which is to be found in marriage, especially in a marriage between a man and a wife whom he loves, surely cannot be compared to that which you have experienced," she observed. "I hold little doubt as to the depth of Mr. Darcy's care and devotion to you, to the strength of his character, and you know he is not a man entering into marriage simply to save the reputation of a friend, nor one looking for the convenience of a wife."

At this Elizabeth turned away, her eyes clouding as she tried to will away the implications in her aunt's words.

"He is a moral and upstanding gentleman, your Mr. Darcy," Aunt Madeline reassured. "I believe with all my heart that your marriage shall be one filled with happiness, with companionship, and with pleasure once you are afforded the opportunity to better know one another." Then reaching forth to take her niece's hand, she said "He has offered you time, and mistake me not, it is time which you shall need. But I beg of you, judge a man on the strength of his character and the truth of his actions, and not on those acts committed by another."

Words that in the bright light of day had been reasonable and sensible, offered little comfort in the dead of night. But as she lay in the dark, she again reminded herself that he had not disturbed her; not during that terrible night on King Street, nor in the hours since the house fell quiet. Drawing several deep, cleansing breathes, Elizabeth turned onto her side for what must be the hundredth time that night; her eyes settling upon the connecting door once again. Pulling the covers about her shoulder, shielding herself from the cold December air, she closed her eyes, desperately willing herself to sleep.

***PnP***

"We are almost to Netherfield," Mr. Darcy observed.

Although knowing that his travel companions were well-aware of their location, his words were spoken simply as an excuse to break the silence which had settled upon the carriage. When their journey had begun that morning, the chit chat among Mr. Darcy, his wife and his new sister had been pleasant, even if a bit stilted and forced at times, but overall the mood in the conveyance had been comfortable. However, as their travels had continued and their arrival in Meryton had loomed larger in their conscience, the atmosphere had shifted; his wife's anxiousness becoming increasingly apparent to them both. Soon silence had descended on the group as they all focused their attention on the scenery passing by the carriage windows.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied, her voice sounding a bit raspier than she had expected. Clearing her throat quietly, she ventured, "I imagine you must be quite delighted at being so close to seeing your friend again."

Nodding, he observed, "It has been some time since I have had the pleasure of James' company, yes."

"Twas very kind of you to recommend Netherfield to your friend, Mr. Darcy," Jane added. "I am certain our friends and neighbors have been nothing but kind in welcoming he and his son."

The debate over what to tell Jane with regards to Lord Ashbourne had presented a quandary to the then-betrothed couple. With both feeling initially that there was little need to expose the true nature of James' exile, further conversations had caused them to reconsider their decision. Elizabeth, knowing her sister's kind and caring nature, expressed her concern that Jane may inadvertently call forth what must surely be painful memories in discussing the gentleman's wife. Mr. Darcy, for his part, could not but recognize the danger in this as well, given that it had been decided rather early on that Jane would remain with them at Netherfield for the duration of their time in Hertfordshire. After several discussions, conducted in the fleeting moments of privacy that could be attained in the company of chaperones, it was decided that Jane would be the only other who would be made aware of James' true identity, sharing with her only the rudimentary details of the scandal as she was an unmarried lady – with whom it would be inappropriate to discuss such distasteful behavior – and he respected his friend's privacy too deeply to embarrass him so.

"That was my intention in doing so."

Soon the carriage rounded the corner and the gates marking the western boundary of Netherfield came into view. In silence, and with perhaps a touch of apprehension, they watched as the familiar pastures of the estate passed by, the manor house soon coming into view with yet another turn along the drive. Their approach certainly not going unnoticed as Mr. Darcy soon espied the familiar gait of his childhood friend emerging from the house.

Coming to a halt before the entrance, Mr. Darcy stepped from the carriage, offering a brief nod of acknowledgement to his friend before turning to assist first his wife and then her sister from the conveyance, not surprised to feel his chest swelling with a surge of pride as he prepared to properly introduce his bride for the first time.

"Darcy, how very good it is to see you again, old man!" James greeted cheerfully, his smile wide and his countenance open and friendly as he firmly grasped his friend's hand.

"And you as well, James," he replied, turning then to his wife and sister to make the introductions.

As he rose from his bow, James asked in surprise, "Bennet?"

"Yes," Mr. Darcy replied, explaining how he had made the acquaintance of the Bennets during his time at Netherfield the previous year.

"Ah, then you are all familiar with Netherfield?" he asked as they entered the house.

Gaining the entrance hall, Mr. Darcy was quick to note that the butler and footmen who were on hand to assist them were strikingly familiar, quickly identifying them as the servants who had filled these positions during his previous stay. Passing their outwear over to the waiting servants, James invited his guests to join him for some refreshments in the drawing room while the staff saw to their trunks.

"I arrived only a fortnight ago myself," James explained as they settled about the hearth, appreciative of its warming glow as it chased from their persons the chill of winter travel. "But I have had the very great honor of making the acquaintance of the Collins and Bennets. In truth, I dined with them just the other evening."

"You did?" Elizabeth gasped, and Mr. Darcy watched in quiet concern as her countenance, already laboring to mask her unease, became increasingly anxious. "And how did you find them? All in good health, I do hope."

"Oh yes, quite so," James rushed to reassure, his brow knitting in such a way as to cause Mr. Darcy further concern.

While James and Charles shared a temperament marked by conviviality and like-mindedness, James had always possessed a keenness for observation which had regularly escaped Charles. Well, with regards to others, that is. For Mr. Darcy could not begin to speculate as to how his otherwise astute friend had remained clueless with regards to his own wife's infamous behavior. But as the answer to that was a matter better left to another time, he focused his attention instead on the conversation at hand.

"Although, it did not appear to me that they were anticipating your arrival," James observed.

Thankfully, Elizabeth was quick to respond, confirming his suspicions as she explained, "Yes, we are to surprise my mother and sisters when we call on them tomorrow."

Gracious as always, James nodded in acceptance of this response, adding jokingly, "And what a very great surprise it shall be for them!"

"Indeed," Elizabeth smiled. "That is our hope."

As the conversation then moved on to discussions of Meryton and the society to be found among his new neighbors, Mr. Darcy remained relatively silent, offering only the occasional hum of agreement when required. Sipping at his tea, his mind was readily engaged with speculation on just what James had heard from Mrs. Bennet with regard to her absent daughters. It was clear to him, having known James for much of his life, that the gentleman's curiosity had certainly been piqued when presented with two young women whom he likely believed to be away in service. With Mrs. Bennet having not had word from Elizabeth in several months, he could not image what fantastical tales the lady must have spun in her absence; Mrs. Bennet's penchant for nonsensical ramblings surely excited.

To account for Elizabeth's absence to her family, he had expected. But to account for these matters to James, who was far more perceptive than the likes of the Collins' or Bennets, he had not.

***PnP***

"It has been quite some time since I have enjoyed a game of billiards. Would you care to join me?"

Accepting the invitation with genuine cheer, Mr. Darcy followed his friend as he crossed the hall, entering the room with a strange sense of nostalgia. He had spent many hours the previous autumn in this very room, challenging Charles to game after game as they avoided the persistent natter of the gentleman's sisters. Sharing these memories with James, they chuckled over Mr. Bingley's lot as they took up their cues.

"How are you finding Hertfordshire?" Mr. Darcy inquired, standing patiently by the tablet as his host racked the balls.

Laughing lightly, James jested, "I must say that your description of the house and neighborhood have thus far proven remarkably... accurate."

"I would be quite surprised indeed if that were not the case," he too quipped, accepting an offer of a glass of brandy as they prepared to start their game.

"However, despite the assertions in your letter, I must say that I have found the people friendly and the house very comfortable indeed."

"I am pleased to hear that." Sipping from his glass, he observed his friend in silence as he broke; the sound of the balls clanking against one another as they ricocheted about the table immensely pleasurable.

"So how have you been, my old friend?" James asked, moving to take up his glass as Mr. Darcy considered his shot. "Your luck is such that I envy. Your bride is quite the charming young woman; my sincerest of congratulations to you both."

Thanking him for his felicitations, Mr. Darcy executed his first shot rather poorly, striking nothing but the far wall of the table; the result of being too long out of practice. But this appeared to bother him little as he stepped from the table, a faint smile upon his lips as he reflected upon the day.

The party had remained in the drawing room for a short while longer, enjoying the warmth of the hearth as well as the tea. Once all had finished, the ladies expressed the desire for some rest following their lengthy journey from London, electing to settle into their rooms for an hour or so before dressing for dinner. Mr. Darcy had also accepted this opportunity for solitude, his mind churning wildly by then with questions concerning Mrs. Bennet and her loose tongue.

Once reconvened in the drawing room some hours later, the party had enjoyed further conversation on the neighborhood, the ladies finding great pleasure in sharing information about the families of note in the area. This conversation had then followed them to dinner, allowing for a jovial atmosphere which none of those assembled would have believed possible on an evening such as this.

"I am pleased to see that your bride enjoys the same lively manner I have discovered in my acquaintances with the other Bennet ladies," James then jested, not failing to notice the distractedness of his friend, who had yet to realize it had been his shot for some time.

"Yes," Mr. Darcy drawled, pulled from his reverie with a slight roll of the eyes, conveying James' meaning had been noted.

"I can only imagine the reception you shall receive upon your arrival at Longbourn tomorrow. Makes one almost wish he were there to see it."

Finally moving to line up his shot, Mr. Darcy chose to reply only with, "I trust your imagination shall be able to recreate it fairly accurately."

But sensing that James was fishing for more information, Mr. Darcy debated how much he should say in regards to his wife's absence. Having spent his time abovestairs assessing their earlier conversation, he was now convinced that James suspected that all was not quite well with the Bennets. As to what he could attribute such to was beyond Mr. Darcy's capabilities to surmise. But not wishing to betray Elizabeth's trust – though he knew James' discretion to be immutable – he had decided that it would be best to err on the side of caution. So in turn, he remained silent.

Eventually realizing that his friend was not going to offer any additional information, James then moved on to another topic, inquiring after Mr. Darcy's familiarity with Mr. Collins, having understood that gentleman to have arrived in the neighborhood well after the time Mr. Darcy had visited with the Bingleys.

Resisting the temptation to curse the man, Mr. Darcy instead turned his attention to his glass, watching the liquor as it swirled. "Yes, I am familiar with him. He served as my aunt's rector in Kent, and was also visiting the Bennets for a brief time while we were here last November."

"Ah yes! I do remember there being some mention of his time as a rector. I had not realized though that it was Lady Catherine whom he had been serving."

"Yes, I am to understand she was quite displeased when he announced he would be leaving Kent in order to assume his inheritance here in Hertfordshire," he recalled, his thoughts drawn to a conversation with Elizabeth, who had shared stories of his dismay at finding himself the target of the lady's ire.

"And yet, now here he is: your cousin," James observed, inadvertently triggering the tick in his friend's jaw that was often caused by such a thought.

"Yes, something else I am certain Lady Catherine will not take very kindly to learning."

"Oh, she is not aware of your nuptials then?" he asked in surprise. To not notify one's own family of their nuptials being very unusual indeed.

"No, I had wished to enjoy my wedding day, so no mention has been made to her as of yet," he quipped, focusing his attention on the table and silently praying this line of conversation would rapidly be exhausted.

Laughing, James could not help but agree, being only too familiar with the great lady, the result of her visits to Pemberley during the summers of their boyhood. Remembering her attempts to direct the boys' attention towards her daughter, he well understood that she would not be happy to learn her prized nephew was no longer on the marriage market.

"If you do forgive me saying so, it strikes me as quite queer that he served as her rector for any length of time, nervous little fellow that he is. I would not think it possible that he would last a day."

This tore Mr. Darcy's attention from the table at once. "Nervous, you say?"

"Aye, in the few times that I have been in his company, he has seemed to me to be quite anxious in nature," pausing then, James' expression turned to one of apology, realizing that he was speaking ill of his friend's new family. "I do apologize; I am speaking out of turn."

Brushing aside his apology, Mr. Darcy dismissed the need for such. Not wishing to comment further though, he simply hummed in agreement and gestured towards the table, a reminder to James that it was his shot. Nervous little fellow that he is. In all his interactions with the parson, nervousness or anxiety were never traits he would have attributed to the obsequious little toad, causing Mr. Darcy to wonder what precisely was Mr. Collins nervous about.

But as this was not an opportune time for lingering over such questions, Mr. Darcy chose to change the course of their conversation once more, filling their time with casual conversations about old acquaintances, careful to avoid names which may be painful to his friend. After enjoying a competitive game of billiards, which resulted in James' victory, and with their glasses emptied, James suggested retreating to his study where there was sure to be a warm fire and fine bottle of port awaiting them.

Agreeing, Mr. Darcy followed him to the study, a small surge of nostalgia striking him as he entered the space. Memories of hours spent pouring over Netherfield's accounting, maps, and lists of repairs coming to mind. Graciously accepting a glass of port, he was pleased to settled into the arm chairs before the fire, savoring the moment of contentment he had so generously been granted.

Once settle, Mr. Darcy broached the conversation he had been wishing to have since first hearing the rumors circulating Ton, inquiring after his friend's well-being.

Sighing, James took a few moments to consider his answer as he gazed into the flames, their light revealing the haggard lines now etched in his face. After several long moments, he answered, "I must say that this has been the most difficult time I have yet experienced in life. Reggie knows not what to do with himself still."

"I am so sorry to hear how difficult this has been."

Silent for a few moments longer, James then surprised his friend by giving voice to the very question which had gripped Mr. Darcy earlier in the drawing room, "I do not understand how I failed to see what was happening before my very eyes.

"As I reflect upon the years of our courtship and marriage, all seems so clear to me now; the signs of her infidelity undeniable. But to have not noticed them before now…?" As his thought trailed off, he shook his head slightly, another sigh conveying the depths of his melancholy.

Unsure of what he could say to alleviate his friend's dismay, Mr. Darcy elected to remain quiet, not wishing to burden his friend with the need to return the courtesy.

After a few long moments of silence, James quietly cleared his throat and once again continued, "I have written to my solicitor to seek his guidance in pursuing a divorce."

Stunned, Mr. Darcy turned to his friend in alarm, a heavy weight settling in his chest as the implications of such a pursuit struck him forcefully. "James, I beg of you to reconsider," he warned.

Smiling ruefully, James simply shook his head. "I assure you, my friend, I have given this matter great consideration. I wish all ties severed, and for her to retain no claim on my name, my money, nor my home."

"But this may be accomplished through other means."

"No, as long as we remain married, it allows for her to reassert herself into my life when this latest of lovers abandons her."

"But they have fled to Spain," Mr. Darcy observed. "If he is not in England, you have no means to bring suit against him."

"It appears I have any number of others to choose from," he replied bitterly, taking a swill of his port as his countenance shifted into one of ire.

Pondering upon all that had been said, Mr. Darcy tried to rationalize why his friend would seek such a path, one which would yield only years of humiliation before the eyes of Society. The time needed to pursue a divorce and the airing of his personal matters unfathomable to endure. Why invite that into his life and draw out an already painful scandal? "Do you hope to marry again one day?"

Scoffing, James shook his head firmly in the negative. "Lord no! I have found one wife to be more than I can bear!"

"Then James, I truly do beg of you not to choose this path," he again tried to reason. "The proceedings you will need to undertake, the scandal and exposure you will endure, all of which may yet result in your request being denied… it is too much."

Again a small smile touched his lips and he chuckled quietly. "What is the worst that may befall me? I am cast from Society?"

Growing increasingly concerned as he watched his childhood friend, one who had always possessed a genial demeanor and kindness of character become so bitter, so dejected was difficult to endure. His expression apparently revealing as much, he was taken by further surprise when James turned to him and his countenance quickly shifted to one of apology.

"My Lord, how inconsiderate of me!" James gasped. "Here you are, a newly married man and yet I speak to you of such unhappiness."

Quickly brushing aside his apology, Mr. Darcy then offered one of his own for bringing forth such unhappy thoughts.

After another few moments in silence, James returned his attention to the glass in his hand, his voice quiet as he then said what he felt he must. "You have been an excellent friend to me during this time, Darcy; I can never thank you enough for standing by me as all others have abandoned us."

Nodding quietly, he was then unprepared for what James had to say next.

"But I do understand that you will no longer be able to do so once I begin these proceedings. I do not wish your family and name to be tainted by your friendship with me."

"James, you shall always have my friendship."

"Come now, Darcy. You have a new wife and now several sisters to care for. Your loyalty to them must trump all others. I understand that, and would never resent you for doing so."

"James," he said more firmly, "you shall always have my friendship."

Nodding, James accepted this without further protest, but did jest, "Perhaps we shall just keep our visits to Hertfordshire then."

***PnP***

Staring through the carriage window, Elizabeth Darcy quietly ticked off the familiar sights along the road to Longbourn: the old mill with its abandoned storehouse, the small brook meandering through Sir Lucas' pastures, Miller's Bridge. In the distance, she could discern the silhouette of Oakham Mount, a seemingly ominous shadow lurking beneath the grey and dreary morning sky; sights she had once believed she would never cast her eyes upon again, and in all likelihood may never again.

It was a matter of minutes now until they would arrive at the fork in the lane, one leading to Longbourn and the other to Meryton and London beyond. Overcome by the unintentional symbolism in what was once a place of such fond memories, of countless treks with sisters and friends alike as they walked to and from the village, she pulled her eyes from the window only to be met with the penetrating gaze of her husband, who she realized had likely been watching her thusly since they left Netherfield.

Offering a small smile in reassurance, she then turned her attention to Jane, who was also watching intently the scenery passing before her. Soon enough, they were approaching Longbourn, the long-lamented hedgerows giving way to the drive. As the carriage turned the corner and the manor house came into view, Elizabeth's heart began pounding heavily in her breast, her ears ringing from the rushing of blood. In a panic, she scanned the horizon for any sign of him, but alas there was no one about as they approached.

Pulling to a halt before the house, Mr. Darcy secured his hat and made to exit the carriage first, extending his hand to assist Jane as she stepped from the conveyance. But Elizabeth required another moment to catch her breath, as well as to will her limbs to move. In the distance she heard the opening of the front door and the exclaims of her sisters as they each filed from the house, spotting Jane standing beside the magnificent carriage.

"Jane! My Lord, is that truly you?!" Kitty cried in surprise.

"Of course it is, do not be daft," Lydia called in response, rushing forward as she sought to identify the tall gentleman accompanying her sister, one who was currently standing with his back to them, watching his bride closely.

Extending his hand, he called her name gently, "Mrs. Darcy."

With a hand trembling uncontrollable, at last she reached forward; his hand grasping hers in a tight yet comforting embrace, steadying her as she too stepped from the carriage.

"Lizzy!" Lydia gasped at once. Then turning, she called over her shoulder to Mrs. Bennet, who was only now scurrying from the house to see who had come to call. "Mama! It is Lizzy and Jane!"

And in a flurry of skirts, Mrs. Bennet rushed forth, grasping her daughters in tight embraces. "Oh my girls! How I have missed you so!"

But it took not a moment after releasing her mother from their embrace that she received the rebuke she had expected. "How very cruel you have been to me, Lizzy! To not write to me, how I have worried the worst had befallen you! Have you no care for my poor nerves?!"

"I am sorry, Mama. It was not my intention-"

"How I have worried!" Mrs. Bennet interrupted, launching into a long-winded recounting of her worst fears.

But Elizabeth paid little mind to what her mother was saying as she sensed the looming presence of Mr. Darcy beside her. Without any thought or reason as to why, she settled her hand on his arm, his own closing over hers and holding it firmly. Turning her attention to him, her countenance seeking to convey her apologies for her mother, she was surprised to find his eyes settled rather firmly elsewhere.

Following his gaze, she was quick to discover what had captured him so. Feeling her courage surge and her expression harden, she leveled her gaze towards Longbourn's door and into the shocked and rapidly paling countenance of Mr. Collins.