Chapter 8:

They rode into the night, Lizzie's heart thumping in her chest. She could feel the adrenaline rushing through her veins—it had not really stopped since they had been taken by those men from the Rosings' gardens. Had it already been a week? She swallowed hard, feeling the comfort that having Mr. Darcy's arms wrapped around her gave her, because when she was with him, she felt safe. She was in his arms and she was safe. She knew that he would defend her at all costs.

Lizzie could almost laugh at her predicament—who could have conjured this scenario? She was sharing a horse with Mr. Darcy, running away from armed men, with the Colonel leading them at the front, prepared for battle.

Lizzie had never seen the Colonel come alive like that. He was very animated when they had spoken at Rosings, which seemed like a distant memory from the past, as if they had grown up together as bosom friends. He had laughed, he had smiled, he had teased, but he was not alive like he was tonight. Lizzie knew that he looked, above all, happy.

There was no fear, no trepidation, no heart pounding in his chest, thought Lizzie wryly, in a way, he seemed to be most comfortable with himself. Lizzie smiled, she knew he was a kind man and living under the Viscount's and Mr. Darcy's shadows, must have not been easy. But surely, he seemed to have become his own man while in the military, for he was a military man through and through.

Darkness began to surround them, the lanterns the men held barely lighting up their way. The men seemed to know the path for there were not any obstacles in their path. Lizzie wanted to speak with Mr. Darcy, had he remembered the truth about her when he had seen Richard? Was he confused? How was he feeling? Was it dangerous for him to ride thus by himself, while carrying her? She had so many questions she wanted to ask him! Now that time had sped up, all she wanted was for it to slow down. But she could not turn to speak to him—she was scared she would distract him and she could not think she could handle being face to face with him, while being this physically close. So Lizzie stopped fighting her closing eyes and though she kept holding on to the harness, she allowed herself to drift into a restless rumbling sleep.

She was awaken by the neighing of horses, she opened her eyes and saw that they had stopped, Mr. Darcy and her in the middle, two men on each side, still mounted on their horses. They all dismounted faster than she thought possible and two of them grabbed the horses to bring them water, while the others found a nearby tree to sit and rest. There was something eerily familiar about this setup, it reminded her of their way into Scotland, but she knew they were not in Cumberland. They must have traveled farther, which meant, she swallowed hard, they were not far from Pemberley.

Mr. Darcy dismounted, looking more tired than she had seen him in days, he noted the worry in her eyes, her unspoken question and he could not help but admire her strength—in the midst of all this, she was worried about him. He reached for her waist and helped her jump down, his hands remaining in place, as he whispered with a caressing voice, "How are you feeling, my dearest?"

Lizzie could the Colonel's curious eyes on them and did not know what to say, she looked sideways and saw Richard raise an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. Lizzie turned her eyes back to Mr. Darcy, seeing his light blue eyes seeping into her soul. He was worried for her, just like she had been worried for him.

"I am well" she said, giving him a weak smile. She awkwardly pulled away from his hands, which had been on her waist, and she feigned a need to drink, which the Colonel had brought plenty of. Mr. Darcy went to the other men, to see that the horses were well tended to.

Lizzie walked towards the Colonel, hearing the crunch of her feet on the branches, looking back to see that Mr. Darcy was not within earshot.

"Miss Elizabeth, I beg your pardon, Mrs. Darcy" said the Colonel, giving her an elegant bow. Lizzie reddened and took the wine he offered silently, glad for the distraction drinking presented. After a big gulp, she looked at him and spoke:

"Mr. Darcy lost his memory. His head was injured, I do not know how but I managed to get us off that carriage or whatever that was where we were being transported and into the hospital. They would not let me stay if I did not say I was his wife" said Lizzie in a hasty whisper, "I lied and then when he awoke, he had amnesia, the doctor said I was his wife, I could not very well tell him that then."

"No you could not tell him then" said the Colonel silently. She knew what he was thinking. And why not tell him later?

"I could not risk us being found and he was already so confused" said Lizzie, the tears threatening to leave her big beautiful eyes.

"You saved his life, Elizabeth, for that, both he and I will always be very grateful" he said, giving her an honest smile. "Let us get to Pemberley, we are not far but this is not over yet" he said, taking another chug from the wine bottle and walking away.

They rested for an hour, the men taking turns watching their surroundings and mounted their horses and left, as quickly as they had arrived. Lizzie could see the first sings of sunlight, the beautiful colors seeping through the darkness, the orange, the blues, and the yellows melting together, the world awakening with each step they took.

"We are home" said Mr. Darcy into her ear, sending shivers down her spine and Lizzie looked up and let out a gasp, for the sight before her was marvelous. She had not idea that Pemberley would be this beautiful—no wonder it was a memory that he held dear. To think that she would have been the mistress of all of this! She reddened at the thought, for in Mr. Darcy's eyes, she already was.

"Come on" said Mr. Darcy to the horse, nudging it with his legs. Lizzie looked around, her eyes wide as she was taking in the beauty all in. The trees, the garden, the structure, were all so beautiful. It was as grand as Rosings, but lacked the stale air that Lady Catherine's pretentiousness brought. This estate was welcoming, it was a home. And for a fleeting moment, Lizzie's heard leaped, for she felt that they were going into her future home. She had all the butterflies that a future mistress would have at seeing her new home—the excitement, the fear, and the love.

Mr. Darcy's kick at the horses woke her up from her fanciful ideas and she blushed again as his leg brushed upon hers. They had ridden in the most intimate of embraces, they had slept in the same bed, and he had declared her his wife infront of his men—oh the shame. Lizzie knew he loved her. And if she allowed her heart to speak, perhaps she would hear it say that she loved him as well.

Lizzie swallowed hard, as they rode to the front of the house, where servants had already come outside to welcome their master. Mr. Darcy dismounted his horse, looked around, seemed to take a deep breath in and a smile, that Lizzie had gotten so used to seeing this past week, flashed on his face. He seemed to come alive at seeing Pemberley—the estate with which he was bound to, body and soul.

Mr. Darcy gave Lizzie a smile and gave her his hand, she delicately placed her hand in his and allowed him to help her off the horse, blushing as he held her for a second too long, staring into her eyes, searching for any clues of how she was feeling.

He offered his arm to Lizzie, which she gladly took for she did not think that she had the strength to walk into this mess without support. She had promised herself that when they arrived to Pemberley she would tell him and so she intended to.

Mr. Darcy motioned for Richard to follow him. The other men went to the stable without any instructions, they knew exactly where to go, and it dawned on Lizzie that they clearly were part of the Darcy household. And they had heard him call her his wife.

Mr. Darcy walked up the grand stairs, the servants lined up on the sides, with an middle aged lady, with a wide smile, at the top of the stairs, near the entrance. Mr. Darcy did not recognize her but there was no way to address her without knowing her name and he did not want to divulge the estate of his memory or what had truly happened.

The Colonel saw the hesitation in his cousins face and to relieve him of embarrassment, addressed the housekeeper first.

"Mrs. Reynolds" he said, she smiled at him, hiding her surprise at being addressed first by someone other than her master.

"Mrs. Reynolds please show Mrs. Darcy to her rooms" said Mr. Darcy. "I thank you" he added softly. Mrs. Reynolds' surprise was nothing to that of all the servants who had come to see their master arrive at last. They had gotten word that they were to arrive and to be prepared for them—there was no mention of their master being married, but alas, he was!

Lizzie looked at the Colonel with pleading eyes but he shrugged his shoulders. He knew that it mattered not if they had not married—he had compromised her and Darcy was bloody in love with her—what difference did it make?

Lizzie bit her lip and Mrs. Reynolds curtsied at the new mistress and led her into the house, whose tall ceilings and numerous windows shone as the light from the sun precipitated within, eager to fill up the house with joy for its glorious master and his new wife.

PNPNPNPNPNP

Wow I am blown away and humbled by the response! over 50 reviews for the last chapter! I really wanted to make this super long for you as a thank you but then I wouldn't post tonight so I decided to end here, as they walk into Pemberley. So I'm going to try to keep posting often which most of you seem to prefer.

To respond so some of the reviews:

1. I would NEVER make richard the bad guy! in my stories i try to stick to doing one small change and trying to keep everyone in character, I know in some stories ppl might say they acted a bit OOC but I really do try to keep everything the same. its fun to think of how one tiny thing could have such a huge effect (I think its a metaphor for life!).

2. they will have HEA! Fear not!

3. So amnesia, the memories tend to come back slowly. He remembers georgiana, he mentions a girl with blonde hair as one of the memories, he remembers the feelings for her, the feelings for pemberley and he does remember richard, the old memories, which are the strongest, come back first. the newer memories are the ones that he is struggling with.

4. I can't thank you enough for every single review! I love that you are all loving this story!

I have one big question that I'm not sure how to proceed. So in the original story, which is what inspired this plot bunny, the pretend wife actually sleeps with her "husband", bc well he thinks he is married and he is attracted to her and so why wouldn't he. I am not sure how to proceed here. Would Lizzie allow him the liberties? Would he try to take them? I mean, if he thinks they are married? What do you think? (As you know I don't do rated M, so it would still be classy, but just putting the question out there!)