Recap: The last chapter saw them leaving Somerdale and off on a journey to Scotland via Wales and Liverpool. They had just stopped at Buxton for the first night on their trip when the last chapter ended.

Days later, out of the Peaks and under cover of a grey sky dotted with low, white clouds, Fitzwilliam was following his wife through a whipping wind and a herd of high mountain black sheep.

He called out to her to stop for who could know which of his neighbor's property they were trespassing upon, but the woman had paid him no mind to this point. He saved his breath and only hoped they would encounter no other on such a squally afternoon.

They were so close to Ffion, his estate near the Welsh coast, but Elizabeth, at her first sight through the carriage window of the highest peak she had heretofore seen, threw off her lap rug and grabbed his walking stick. With a thud to the roof of the carriage, she bounded from the door without a word. His stick was gently thrust back to his chest before she was wild and off. It was all he could do now to keep up in his chase to avoid the bleating sheep and their dung.

Another quarter mile found him bent over as the cold ravaged his chest. Wishing her to the devil, he gave one more call to his wife. "Elizabeth! Elizabeth Darcy! Halt, Madam!"

The woman either feigned deafness with the excuse of being too far from him, or rather and more likely blatantly disregarded him. He pressed forward, his trot becoming a run before he finally caught her around the waist nearly lifting her from the ground. "Good lord woman! Are you run mad? You cannot just leap from a moving carriage and trespass onto land which is not yours!"

He turned her briskly in his arms to convey his displeasure. It melted away like the surrounding snow would come spring.

Her breath expelled in little rushes of gaiety which tickled his frozen neck. Too soon, she removed her head from its nestled place to look beyond his shoulder at the splendor in the distance. The only splendor he beheld was her red nose and cheeks strained in the best possible way. She had never looked so happy. He went adrift as she lost herself in the beauty which arose at her feet. Thusly, he had not even the sense to be thankful she had not perceived his earlier harsh tone.

If he was ever so bewitched to kiss this woman under the spell of a moment, it was now. But before he laid down his heart on such a gamble and pulled her even closer, his resolve transfigured through his conscience to something of better sense and restraint. For her sake alone, he would act the part of a gentleman, and at last, outright deny temptation. For himself, agony was already a friend. And, though her kiss would have been worth the pain, consideration won out. He upheld his vow to not impose. No longer would he misread her passions for life as being feelings for himself. What was he to snow-covered mountains?

She tugged at his sleeve, still poised at her waist, and turned her bright eyes upon him.

"Is not this just wonderful? I have never imagined a scene so picturesque. Even your Peaks in Derbyshire are nothing to it."

They stood together, insensible for their own reasons in the valley under the shadow of Carnedd Llewelyn and its high-hilled friends. Their tops and slopes were covered with a recent snowfall, and their bases were dotted with little black puffs of sheep. It was a frigid pastoral, but neither knew anything of the cold in the span of those few moments.

He held to her, so distracted he was by her loveliness and basked in her warmth. "Yes, quite wonderful." He wished to add that she did not have the contrast of watching a summer sunset fall over the Peaks in Derbyshire from the back terrace of Pemberley with a cool glass of lemonade in hand, but he now had a bud of hope it was a future possibility so long as she was allowing him to hold her like this, in this place. From where this bout of felicity had come, he was not sure but was ever grateful.

Their two days traveling from Buxton had been mostly quiet, but companionably so, and it was fraught with stops where their conversations would rise, and through it, they became just a trace more comfortable spending time with the other. She openly delighted at their travel, and he reservedly delighted at her. For his wife, wonders never ceased.

"Fitzwilliam, it is remarkable I have gone all my life without seeing this."

"It is remarkable you are so easily pleased." He gave her a sly smile to indicate he intended no offence.

She sauntered from her captivation to further assess his meaning still not entirely grasping that she was acting the wonderstruck hoyden her mother always affirmed she was. "Yes, I suppose you are correct in that I am easily pleased, but you are wrong – that is actually rather un-remarkable." She offered a small laugh lest they become too serious. Her eyes were drawn away, and he watched her spirit soar again to the heights shrouding them. "Fitzwilliam, this… these mountains are…"

He touched the uncovered curl at her temple to gain her attention, "…these mountains are easily viewed from the windows of the manor house on our estate just a few miles hence. I venture you can enjoy the prospect by the fire with a cup of tea." It was more an offering than anything else, and he inclined to their equipage which was now waiting off into the distance.

Finally, she pulled away from him seeming to recall herself and proper behavior. "Yes, of course. What must you think of me? I was just so carried away by the sight. I daresay I thought I was going to climb this mountain at the glimpse of it. How far I ran! How absurd – I am not sure what overcame me so! Forgive me. I am sure you are cold and wishing to be at our destination."

"No, I am not so cold, and I am glad I caught you in time before you made an ill-advised ascent. Perhaps I shall have to blindfold you on the rest of our journey to keep you from injuring yourself the next time you decide to dash out of the carriage? What is next, shall you jump from the ship at the first sight of Scotland? You could not even allow Smith to completely stop the team just now. Have a care next time your fervor overcomes you lest I strap you to the seat." He meditated on that thought a touch too long when the weight of her wide-eyed gaze duly chastised him.

He cleared his throat and reverted to a more formal tone as he offered her escort, "Come, let us go back. While the estate is not so far off, these are not our lands, and we, my dear, are trespassing."

"Oh, surely the neighbors do not mind." She took his arm as they made their way back to the road.

"Elizabeth, you should check your boots before you enter the carriage and mind your steps."

Her eyes shifted from the glories of their surroundings to her side as she silently quizzed him, and he pointed to a small pile of something small and distinctly steaming in the snow.

"Very well, then."

He bit his lip to contain his smile as she sniffed her nose and held her chin proudly as they made their way back.

Ten minutes later, boots carefully inspected, they were seated on their respective benches warm again under their rugs. "Fitzwilliam, will you tell me what business has brought us to Wales?"

This brought him up short. His true purpose was her pleasure, and he was surprised it was so easily accomplished before they even settled in for the week.

He continued to hesitate as he recalled just why he owned an estate in this region of the kingdom. "Well, the black sheep you see out the window, the estate has two such herds. Their fleece and their meat bring some small income. But, the real purpose in holding the estate are mines, not ten miles from here, and I…we have significant interests there. I have been thinking of mining some land near Pemberley with some partners, and this is a good model to replicate. I hope to learn more about the operations."

In truth, investigating the mine was a capital idea. The business he had at Whitlock's dinner in London before Christmas was centered on the possibility of mining either Pemberley or Somerdale lands. If his mind was not so distracted that particular night, he may have thought of coming to Wales earlier. Perhaps he would accomplish some business while seeing to his primary objective of wooing his wife. His efficient nature grabbed the idea quite prodigiously. "Elizabeth, what say you to taking a tour with me to the mines in the next several days while our travel out of Liverpool is arranged?" He saw she was clearly taken aback but for what reason he was not sure. Did he not mention they were to travel to Scotland by way of sea?

It seemed their travel was not what captured her attention so. She moved to the edge of her seat and fixed him with seriously enquiring attentions. "I cannot say I know the first thing about mining though I am all curiosity. Do you really mean to have me accompany you on your business?"

He settled himself back into the comfort of his seat giving her a smile and wishing by his attitude to lend credence it was nothing so magnanimous to include her in his concerns. She was his wife, and it was beyond time she learned more about his dealings. "I do not see why you should not join me. The mine conditions in the winter are not so strenuous as they are in summer, and we will not journey down into the slate pits. Of course, if you think it too much to bear witness to the breaking work, then, by all means, do not feel obligated."

"Well then, if it does not flout propriety and you do not mind my company, then I should like to see it." Smiling to herself, she settled back into her own seat to meet his satisfied gaze until her brows furrowed as she sat up again. "Are the workers treated well? I do not think I could bear to see it if they were not." She leveled her eyes at him seeming to dare to accuse him at one wrong word.

He fought the inclination to take umbrage – while he appreciated her compassion for the workers, he would appreciate a little faith from her. "Elizabeth, on my honor, I do not knowingly engage in any business where human life is not valued. There is not one who is not able-bodied and over the age of four and ten allowed in any mining operation I choose to fund."

She seemed relieved at his words, and while he was thankful he read her concerns enough to put them at rest, his slight chagrin persisted. A short time later, they arrived where they were to spend the week. Her smile and the squeeze of her hand as he handed her out of the carriage did much to restore his good humor.

A se'nnight had passed when Elizabeth found herself in a carriage once more and leaving what proved to be the most tranquil place she had ever had the pleasure to visit. The estate was superiorly posed in equal distance from an expansive group of high mountains and the ever-lolling sea. It did not matter if it snowed for two days and then was biting cold for the others. She thought the weather rather suited this place. The chilly air invigorated her when she walked the lower slopes, gazing upon the higher ones, only to turn her head and see a flat line of grey-blue in the distance.

She supposed if she must name a drawback in visiting the Welsh estate it was that snow precluded her from progressing to the mountain tops. There was a particular craggy cap which teased her mercilessly from outside the large picture windows in her chambers. The pinnacle was so close she thought if she could reach through the glass she could caress it with her fingers. But, alas, it was an illusion… yet still, she would linger in bed, arms wrapped around her middle while nestled under her coverlets, wondering what it might be like to ascend to such soaring heights of fancy.

Putting such silly thoughts to the side, she adjusted her view across the carriage to her husband. Not five miles down the road, and he was studying a ledger while making notes in another. Fitzwilliam had become more a puzzle since they had left Somerdale.

Gone was the man who distanced himself from her when not required to publically play the part of husband. Gone was the sometimes rogue he had acted to perpetuate the idea of impetuous lovers to explain a rash marriage. And, gone was the man who battled her in weighty, vague discussions of their relationship or rather lack thereof. Neither was he the man she had met in Hertfordshire before a kiss had changed the course of their lives. What remained was a surprisingly polite and staid version of the gentleman she had hitherto known as her husband – slightly aloof as usual, quietly amiable, and willing to attempt her company on a regular basis to see to some of her entertainment.

Without the usual tension to incite their passions, with no distraction of familial expectations, and no intentional embargo of the other's company, the relatively smaller estate of Ffion showed her husband's rather practical side; he was a productive sort of person to the likes of which she had not fully comprehended. Caroline Bingley had not even the full right of it when she commented so long ago on just how many letters of business Fitzwilliam might have to write, and Elizabeth gathered her husband did not seem to think the task odious whatsoever.

And so, all could not be perfectly comfortable with them, but Elizabeth was grateful in that they found a new kind of understanding during their quiet time together in Wales. They would usually breakfast together; he would escort her to some place of interest or another – those being her favorite times; and then, he would part from her to see to some affair until they shared an informal supper. After spending perhaps an hour in mutual company tending their separate pursuits – a book, a letter, a turn at the small instrument in the sitting room, he would wish her a 'pleasant evening' before taking himself off again.

Aside from the occasional exclamation induced by whatever wondrous sight was before her or some mild teasing more on her part than his, their conversations were mostly sedate and functional, never venturing back into the tempest sea of the specifics on their relationship or onto topics on which they knew they disagreed.

She recalled his request as they set out from Somerdale in which he wished them to act as friends on their journey as well as his promise to be a gentleman, and now she supposed she understood his reasoning. It was much easier, for the sake of travel and their daily life, that they forget all that came before and abide each other with some manner of calm respect. As much as she wished to have more personal discussions as to mend the meager beginnings of their marriage which had been irretrievably broken, she decided for now she would much rather have him in her company even if they were all politeness. If they could build upon their time together, perhaps they could begin again.

Elizabeth began to meditate on what exactly that future might require should she be so lucky to attain it. The memories of his hand upon her person or his lips upon hers crept in at the most inconvenient of times.

At some point later, she could not bear the mortification nor the pleasure any longer to look upon the man who quite discomposed her thoughts as he paid her no attention from across the aisle. As they crested a hill, she turned her head to the window and through it to the never-ceasing sea, letting her thoughts drift over the gentle waves, imagining their depths. So often lately she had been overcome with the fluttering of pleasure as she dwelled on her husband. She only hoped she was not on the way to becoming her mother, overtaken by spasms, trembling, and such beatings of her heart at the slightest provocations.

Eventually closing her eyes, she hoped the man across from her, staring at his ledgers, would only think her cheeks pink from the chill if he ever looked up. Better yet she hoped, he would not notice them at all.

Darcy slowly, and only just barely, lifted his eyes from a page of numbers which made no sense in his wife's presence. He watched several moments as her head slipped forward and backward against the cushion, her breathing visibly deep. Assured of her sleep, he finally allowed himself to openly look upon her and vowed his reactions kept under respectable order. He admired the delicate line of her jaw and her adorably turned-up nose. A curl had fallen loose from her bonnet, and he was enchanted as it had wrapped the porcelain of her neck.

From his place opposite her, he watched her flitting eyelashes as they caressed a perfectly rosy cheek. He had experienced her enough in the past to know the feel of her skin, and he was hard-pressed not to reach out and touch it now as she lay back in her seat. Her lips quirked up softly, and he could only imagine the satisfying images playing behind her closed eyes. He imagined her to be dreaming of dashing through a bank of snow or a skipping in a field of lavender. It would be just like her. As she lay in repose, he appreciated her face so full of youth and effervescence, and he was reminded of her innocence. As he admired her, he was also reminded, to a greater degree, of his own.

He had spent the past week testing his resolve to be the gentleman he swore to himself he would be. So far, he thought he had done well, but at times, he thought his forbearance in her company might be killing him a day at a time. He promised to not incite her passions for better or worse, but she did nothing to suppress his. Married at seven and twenty, patience was becoming not an astute contender – not that he supposed it was something which fell into the court of her responsibility to manage. His feelings were his own to control, and she could not help to be anything other than her appealing self, especially now as they were away from the expectations of others.

This last week of being settled together at Ffion was the most unparalleled seven days of his life he was sure. Just being in her sole company did much to soothe the troubles of the past two months. His forgiveness and his reinstated wish to have her heart were both a foregone conclusion. Though they did not travel down certain subjects, and he only had the pleasure of being so close to her when he escorted her on their planned outings on and around the estate, they had been at peace throughout it all. Each day was a little easier to stay by her side without feeling the pain he endured the first dark days of their marriage.

He had done as he set out to do by showing her the wonders of the Welsh landscape around the estate, and he had introduced her to its workings wishing her to know he saw her as an ally in their future. His estates required a knowledgeable mistress. Her education in this was taken seriously and much to her evident delight. If she applied herself half as much at Pemberley, then not only his future seemed grand and void of loneliness in carrying out his duty, but his legacy was bound to flourish as well.

He stilled himself at the thought of his legacy and looked away from her as to not raise his hopes. He fully intended to give her a choice as to their future when they returned from Scotland, and he would not pin expectations on her so early in his campaign.

Shaking himself away from a success too distant, he recalled the present joys of their recent days instead. The slate mines were a fascination and a credit to the mechanics of her mind. The queries and ideas she posed at times even exceeded his own knowledge and ingenuity. When they walked through the rocky pastures to discuss and see the sheep kept there, she sought the herdsman out in an energetic interrogation.

He smiled to himself in gratification thinking of how when they encountered a lone male hogget who gave a slight charge in warning, she saw him as her protector, just as a husband should be thought of by his wife. He felt pride in shielding her as she jumped behind him and clutched at his coat. He still thought it humorous as she peered around him and warned off the offending beast in her best strident voice. He would laugh at that for years to come.

He had known no other like her. He could not imagine another woman of his acquaintance standing in the middle of a January field shouting at a sheep who was in her path and dared to cross her. She was everything formidable.

Closing his ledger books, for he no longer felt the need to hide behind them, he moved down on the bench where he could be closer. To clear himself the heat he felt flaring inside of his body, he leaned into the cool reprieve of the window. Catching a glimpse of the white trills over the expansive water in the distance as they traveled the coast, he looked back to Elizabeth and remembered how her eyes widened and glistened when they first walked down to the rocky shore on a day where the sun made a shy attempt at friendliness.

Skirts pulled to her ankles after checking at least thrice that there were none around, save him, to bear witness, she stepped close enough to dip an ungloved hand in the water. He was sure he had almost gone mad with feeling as she brought her wet hand to her lips for a taste until she spluttered at the brine and ran away from a short comber rolling in after her.

When she laughed at her own foolishness, he grasped his hands behind his back and bit hard down on his lip. Her joy could not have affected him less, but he did not wish to intrude. It was not entirely reasonable to think he could join her exploit without ruining her fun by licking the saltwater from her lips. But, he was content to observe. The sight of her so unrestrained gave him unbridled happiness; it was a sight much like now, her nestled into the comfort of her seat, surrounded by her covers, still smiling in the arms of serene rest.

He closed his own eyes for a moment to imagine her as his proper wife on the beach in the season of summer, not so wrapped in outerwear, and alone for miles. Would she take off her boots and step into the place at the water's edge where the rocks gave way to the sand?

If she did, and he was near – and not in danger of freezing – she might splash some water at him as if they lived without cares. Of course, he would certainly then retaliate and demand a kiss as atonement for her bad behavior. And, he would hold her in the sun – sans bonnet – and she would hold him back.

He meditated on that thought so comfortable in its assumed warmth. He pushed away any sense of foolishness he felt for letting his woolgathering get so far into the ridiculous. But what was he to do in a carriage with a beauty asleep within arm's length when he could not reach out to her?

Abruptly, the carriage jostled, and he jolted up looking to Elizabeth to assure she was well. Her head remained inclined just as it was, and his eyes locked into warm chocolate for just the breadth of a moment. The depths which stirred him so shockingly fell shut as if they had not been open at all, and her small smile, the one he thought she had found in her sleepy dreams, remained.

Elizabeth faced the edge of the city, giving great contemplation to all which was before her. Her husband indulged her curiosity with a visit down the main thoroughfare to the docks of Liverpool. It calmed her excitement to see vessels the likes of which she was to board the next day. Until this morning, she had only seen oils and drawings of the enormous seafaring monsters. Now before her, and as far as she could see up and down the River Mersey, the tall masts were beyond tally as they faded in and out of the hazy distance.

The waterfront smelled of salt just as it had in Wales, but now the air also swirled with the vestiges of international commerce - some surprisingly bearable combination of spice, sweat, and waste. Trade, the likes of which Society looked down upon, was something Elizabeth could not fully comprehend until this moment.

The efficient movement of so many boats, their heavy crates of goods, and the milling about of her countrymen and foreigners alike – people who did not all look like her - was something truly remarkable to behold. The shouts over the din and the racketing of wood as it swayed in the constant lap of the water was a sound of industry which made Elizabeth think her once quiet and very English country life was like living in a small, protected bubble in a sea full of foam.

It seemed people and things ebbed and flowed through an incomprehensible sphere she now realized toiled in a way in which she had no grasp of understanding. How very big was the world, and how she did wish to learn more of it. It was impossible that only a fortnight ago she was in the wilds of Derbyshire celebrating the New Year with her new family – an Earl's family no less, and now she stood ten yards from a gateway to places and ports she could not entirely realize.

"What do you think, Elizabeth?"

His voice startled her, and she only just recalled he stood by her side looking into the limitless unknown.

Speaking more about her meditations rather than the rows of ships, she said, "I think it all quite extraordinary." Before she spoke again, she considered at length her husband whose attention was clearly upon her and not the great enterprise of what was before them. "And, Fitzwilliam, what do you think?"

He deliberately shifted his gaze unseeingly away, seeming to look farther out than she could. "I agree, quite extraordinary." The forest of moving timber masts, sprouted as they were from the water, swayed in the breeze, hanging on his words.

"Yes, to think, Fitzwilliam, not so long ago we were in Matlock, and a fortnight before that we were in London. And now, we've been in Wales, and here we are in Liverpool with open channels beyond. I never imagined in all the world having seen so much in such a short time, and it has all come about with no warning. Not even two months previous would I have imagined standing here as I now am, with you. Has your life always been this exciting, this impulsive? Or, do you take it all in as inconceivable as do I?"

"Until very recently, my life has been somewhat staid. But, I have come to see we have quite different perspectives." Her husband did not elaborate as perhaps she hoped he might. She had meant to tease only a little but was afraid she had gotten it all wrong.

Confounding man. She snuck a glance at her husband before he moved away, hat in hand. The breeze was skimming and rippling his hair.

Beautiful man.

"Come," he said over his shoulder as his attention had been pulled to somewhere down the way. He stilled to wait on her smaller steps eventually placing her gloved hand atop his arm. "Look," he pointed across the quay, "to the packet which is directly there - this is the lady who shall take us to Scotland."

Elizabeth raised her brow to her husband. If she did not know better, she would think he was now quite enthusiastic under his stately exterior. There seemed to be a crinkling around his eyes which belied his even voice. "Sir, shall you make the proper introductions? She is intimidating to be sure, but I find myself eager for her acquaintance."

He placed his other hand over top of hers and squeezed as he looked down to her, feigning shock. "Madam, you intimidated? I never once thought it possible. But, as far as the introduction, I think the lady is already known to you."

"I promise you, I can be intimidated just as anyone. But, I own that my courage always rises, and do not pretend you do not know it well." She gave him a full smile and was pleased to see him return it. "You also are aware I would have no cause to be on intimate terms with any ship, let alone this one. I think you relented quite reluctantly actually to my request to come here this morning only on the basis you could not actually fathom that I have never seen a ship in reality, not even from afar."

"Very well. I cede you do not know this vessel. However, you well know the namesake. I do believe you may even have a connection by marriage." He inclined his head again to the ship.

She squinted her eyes to see the lacquered name along the stern. "Louisa! As in Mrs. Louisa Hurst? Are you suggesting the name is not a coincidence?"

Elizabeth thought Fitzwilliam seemed rather pleased with himself. "Indeed. It is Bingley's ship. Or, rather, it belongs to the merchant company Bingley's family started more than two generations previous. The fleet carries the names of the ladies in the family."

It was a wonder that her brother-by-marriage would have a fleet… of actual ships. She had never heard him or his sisters mention the source of his income. It was known or rather gossiped over in Meryton of an inheritance of around a hundred thousand pounds. But, that his family could count a shipping fortune to their name was beyond comprehension. She wondered if Jane knew. Surely, she must. Her marriage is much different than mine. They probably now know every intimate detail of one another's lives.

Elizabeth shrugged off the comparison determining not to be wistful. Instead, she resolved to keep her spirits up and could not contain mirth at her next thought. "I suppose it a very lucky thing the ship is not named for the other sister. Otherwise, I may find a watery grave should I become too close to the railing in the open sea."

He joined her in laughter. "You and me both."

"Oh, no! Surely not you! Miss Bingley would be very glad to find you a widower on your return from the north."

His mirth halted as he looked at her intently. "I cannot laugh at that. I dare not. If you are cast overboard, I may well as join you."

Elizabeth's heart arrested in her chest at the intensity of his eyes, and the hope was almost too much. Surely, he could not mean something so passionate as to say he could not live without her. Her breath returned and with it a forced laugh. "Surely a fate such as Caroline Bingley is not so evil as to warrant something so dramatic on your part as flinging yourself after me?" She gave him her most playful smile as she walked a bit away to see the ship from another vantage.

He followed her closely and came directly behind her speaking low and close. "I assure you, the fate you describe would be an insupportable torment I could not bear. It would not do."

Elizabeth could feel his warm breath along her cool neck, and she thought perhaps a fate without him might be just as unbearable.

They stood there for a few moments; the silence was thick between the small distance their bodies afforded until he moved again next to her and spoke with tolerable evenness. "Can you keep a confidence from your sister?"

The turn of the conversation was confusing, and she briefly wondered why he must ask. They were married. Her allegiance now lay with him, despite the circumstances. "Yes, of course, although now I am all inquisitiveness."

"When are you not?" A corner of his mouth raised, and the thought crossed her mind how easily she could push the smug man into the water given how close they stood to the elevated courses of masonry at the edge of the dock. She refused to rise to the bait of his impudent rhetoric and only barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

Her heart sped, and her momentary indignation passed them by when he again took her hand and gently placed it across his sleeve. He kept his own there atop hers, warming it quite nicely. "Charles does not speak of his business in polite company, and he is not so tied to the operation that he cannot carry on a life of leisure as he wishes. But, he is still very involved, and he has an excellent mind for managing his family's ventures. Your sister is a fortunate woman to be married to someone not only of great character but also one who is so astute in seeing to his interests. I have even invested not a paltry sum." Elizabeth was looking at him as he spoke and did not understand the questioning look he abruptly cut to her. "I take it you still have not reviewed your own settlement?"

Elizabeth felt a blush settle over her cheeks. What was with his insistence about her settlement? She really had no interest in how she benefited financially from their marriage, especially in light of how it had come about. She demurred and deflected with one of her own, "Is this the confidence I am not to share with Jane? That you are an investor in her husband's affairs?"

"No, that is not it at all." He shook his head and seemed a little less excited than he was before, but he carried on nevertheless. "I should think Mrs. Bingley is well aware by now as to her husband's business and all the important aspects concerning it. I digress. Charles has commissioned five new ships. It will take a few years before all are delivered as builders rightfully must give precedence to King and Country, but the biggest and fastest should be delivered within the year. It will be christened the Jane Iris and enlisted into Bingley's line. Your new brother also intends the maiden voyage to be a kind of delayed, yet extensive, wedding tour to wherever it is your sister should like to go. It is meant to be a surprise, hence the request for confidence."

"How wonderful for Jane!" Elizabeth felt pure delight for her sister. "You may be assured I will not spoil such a grand gesture. How he must love her! Of all my sisters, she is the most deserving." Elizabeth fastened her lips lest the pleasure on her sister's behalf runneth over. Another pleasure settled on her – the feeling of his confidence, and she was more reverent in her tone. "I do vow I will not disclose this. I thank you for indulging me with such a secret. Your trust is not misplaced."

"Elizabeth, you do not need to assure me. You are my wife, how could I not trust you?" He asked quietly.

Unable to speak, she hoped he saw the gratitude in her eyes before he pulled his own away after his quiet question.

He seemed to shake off the moment between them and moved behind her again, placing his hands over her covered arms. He rubbed them gently up and down. "It is cold. Let us take the carriage back toward the shops. I am in mind to purchase you a new cloak before we leave."

Before stepping away, she leaned back into him not caring they were not alone. Her smile, she hoped, could be heard in her voice. "Fitzwilliam, do you not think the three I already own are quite sufficient?"

"No, I do not. You will need something more than wool if you are to survive the coach to Skye. There are not so many inns at which to stop. The bricks at your feet will be long cooled before they will be replaced. You may be of sturdy constitution, but I think you will fare better in fur."

"I will ignore your insult as to my robust condition," the swat at his hand belied her words. "If it is to be so cold, then I will just use all the three I own at once. But, I doubt very much I shall have to do so as, according to you, I am no delicate flower."

"No, that you are not. But, using three cloaks at once will never do. What good is ten thousand a year if it will not purchase you some finery? Your mother would be appalled to listen to your disavowal of what is only your due as my wife."

They were not yet before the carriage, and she gaped until her husband gave her a sheepish grin and shrugged his shoulders.

"Mr. Darcy," she lifted her brow, looking around assuring no one was paying them any attention, and reached her mouth to his ear with a whisper, "I think my mother would be appalled to learn her son-in-law's mere ten thousand a year is really only hearsay. She might faint dead away to learn the truth."

"Aye, so you have read your settlement, then?"

"Nay, I am only supposing." She walked the short distance to the carriage and grasped her husband's hand as he led her up the steps. With a saucy look, she watched him with care as he followed her in. "Perhaps my mother would be more appalled to find herself at the expense of your mordant humor. Her nerves would indignant no doubt."

"Perhaps if I gift her a fur-lined cloak, she would eventually grant me forgiveness."

Elizabeth could no longer hold herself back and fully laughed at the picture her mother would make receiving such a gift from her him of all people. "You, my husband, are a loathsome creature today."

Something heartening crossed his features before he settled into an exaggerated posture a puppy might take after a scolding, and she immediately rectified her rebuke meant in jest. "Fitzwilliam, thank you for taking me to the docks this morning. It has quite alleviated my concerns. I also thank you for allowing me to accompany you on your journey to Scotland. All of this traveling about may be commonplace for you and nothing remarkable, but for me, it is really something. If you insist I need a new cloak, then I shall be happy to receive it."

His contentment was felt by her as they settled into the squabs for the short drive to the shopping district, and though she could not understand how her words had any power over the man's state of mind, she was beginning to understand they just might.

A/N: Thanks to Milan for her invaluable assistance! She did not get a final look due to my impatience - so errors are mine!

Thanks for the well-wishes on my broken ankle - it is much better! Thank you, as always for your reviews! I truly savor and appreciate them.

This chapter really serves as the transition to them finding love together in their marriage, so I hope it is a start to satisfy the angst!

If you like the torment of angst, then I wrote a little playground piece on AHA. It is a little cliffy, and I have no time to really dedicate to it at the moment, so it will remain there for now. But, it is something I will expand after I get through with this and my other story posted here.