Title: A Prettyish Kind of Wilderness

Setting: Modern AU

Rating: K

Chapters: 3

Blurb: "It is a consolidated tradition for the best man, I believe, to completely humiliate the groom during the wedding toast. Or, the tale of how Lizzy and Darcy lent both hands at Jane and Charles' housewarming party. Or, Pride and Prejudice in an afternoon.

I am not mother tongue & I am still looking for a beta reader, so if you find errors in spelling, grammar, incorrect usage of vocabulary or weird turn of phrases, feel free to let me know.

Where were we? D&E are still stranded at Netherfield but D has tried to kiss Lizzy and then proceeded to insult her in a typical Hunsford fashion. Lizzy set him down and then stormed out of the house. Plus the wedding toast thing in the future.

Part 3: Pemberley

["Ah, there is nothing better than a glass of fresh water. I will now proceed with our story. Ehm ehm. By now, you will have realized that Darcy himself was the third and final exhibit to the universally acknowledged law that Lizzy Bennet was a magnet for rude, oblivious—"

"Shut it, Charles."

"I didn't complain while you toasted at my wedding, Darce. But I will 'shut it' and leave the word to Jane, as I know you are too gentlemanlike to yell at her. Jane?"

"Thank you, Charles. As we were saying— All that we have told you till now was a reconstruction of the events from bits and pieces of conversations we had with Lizzy and Darcy over the last year, but the following is mere speculation. They never talked about what precisely happened after Lizzy stormed angrily out of the house, and I am convinced that no one will ever exactly know what happened in that garden, but Lizzy and Darcy themselves."]

Elizabeth stalked through the garden.

How dared he! How! How dare he believe that she had been making bedroom eyes at him the whole afternoon? He should seriously get a new eyeglasses prescription.

She found a bench and collapsed on it, angrily crushing her cellphone between her hands. That presumptuous man! Charles' best man!

How could Charles be friends with him? Darcy was the worst, worst man in the world, worse than Collins, worse than Wickham. She never wanted to see him again.

She sighed. How will we ever interact after this? He is the best man… I refuse to ruin Jane's wedding because of him.

And the nerve of him, his presumption, his arrogance, the deluded man that thought he had some power over her as if she did not have a brain but was only waiting for some man to take control of her life. Jane and Charles were the worst matchmakers in history, by the way. Thank goodness she had never agreed to go on that blind date. Not that he would have ever agreed to meet her too since she was a, ugh, a lawyer, she thought bitterly.

Her cellphone rang and it was Wickham. Again.

"What do you want?!"

"Whoa, calm down. Did someone stab you or what?"

"No small talk, what do you want?!" She snapped.

"Oh, I know who stabbed you, it was Darcy, right?"

What? "What do you mean?"

"I wasn't a hundred per cent sure it was him when Collins said you were hanging out with some Darcy, but sure as hell it's Darcy if you are this pissed. By the way, that Collins guy you sent me is a complete dolt, what were you thinking?"

"How do you know him?"

"Err, you sent him here?"

"I meant Darcy!"

"Pff, we go way back. Our parents are friends, we were neighbours."

"Really?" Elizabeth tried to imagine Judge Anne Fitzwilliam friends with an imaginary Wickham's mother, but it was impossible to imagine Wickham's mother. "I would have never guessed."

Wait a minute, was Wickham's family rich and important too if they were neighbours with the Darcys? But then why was Wickham in the pro bono program?

Wait a minute the second, does this mean that Wickham is somewhat related to Mrs de Bourgh too? What is happening here?

"We were the best of friends! Went the whole way through school together. Then, in college things turned wrong. Wrong people, doing drugs… I tried to talk him out of it, to help him, you know, but he wouldn't listen. And then the cops raided our apartment — we were flatmates — and they found some stash of something and he had the gall of saying it was mine! I got arrested because of him! He ruined my life! Anyway, then he set my parents against me so they threw me out and I never graduated because I had no money. Damn the day I met that Darcy!"

Elizabeth paled while listening to this story and felt all her anger come back to her, only a hundredfold. That pathetic excuse of a human being! He was even worse than she had ever imagined. And she would be stuck with him for who knows how long.

Taking a deep breath, she finally said in an even voice: "Mr Wickham, your situation is already very delicate. Please, refrain from acting in a way that will lead you to a condemn for slander. Have a nice evening."

She hung up before he had the chance to say "Lizzy-bitsy".

That wretched, wretched Wickham. If Elizabeth knew him at all, it had been the exact opposite of what he had told her, if anything was true at all.

Darcy was a jerk, but not even a jerk deserved a childhood pestered by Wickham. She imagined his confused expression as the police searched his luxurious apartment and laughed.

A childhood with Wickham. Perhaps that was why Darcy was so messed up.

But was he truly messed up after all? He was certainly better than Wickham. Not that that meant much, Wickham was the worst man on Earth.

For example, he had already called her three times since she had hung up. Elizabeth blocked his number and felt as if a weight had been lifted from her chest. She returned to ponder.

When she had first met Wickham, she had been quite charmed by his smile and good manners. On the contrary, Darcy had done a terrible first impression.

But that was what it was: a first impression. Wickham's facade had cracked in the end, but for a couple of days, she had been fooled. She was fairly sure she would never like him, but perhaps, at her third meeting with Darcy, or while they were cake tasting or choosing flower decorations together, she would discover something that would make him tolerable enough to have polite, distant conversations.

Of course, they had to get through the current situation first. His feelings have probably evaporated the moment I shouted at him, so that shouldn't be a problem.

Still, she had probably hurt his pride. What would happen when she went back into the house? Would he shout at her again or try to be mature and put this whole situation behind for the sake of the wedding? She didn't know him enough to tell. They would have to reach some kind of agreement before Jane and Charles returned.

She would offer an olive branch and if he didn't want to take it, that was his problem. He could leave the bridal party for all she cared.

Very well, then now she only had to go back to the house, ask him if they could talk (but not in a way that would make him believe she was regretting the rejection) and then she would say— Something.

It was too peaceful in the garden to think of wearing her rhetorical armour again. Elizabeth closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. The birds singing, a gentle breeze playing with her hair… Perhaps I should start practising yoga again.

Her cellphone buzzed and she found a message from an unknown number.

"It's Darcy. I asked Charles for your number. I would like to explain myself and this is the only way since you stormed off. We are to be best man and maid of honour, so we should at least try to regain a certain degree of civility."

Elizabeth arched her brow. Regain a certain degree of civility? That was what she wanted too, but he had started it! Why was he making it seem it was her fault?

Another message popped in.

"You accused me of three things: insulting you during my conversation with Charles, despising lawyers and relegating you to the role of a part-time girlfriend in the case of a future relationship between us.

"I do not find you a chatterbox. Otherwise, I would not have invited you to dinner. At first, I did think you were trying to chat me up, but then I realized that being open and friendly is your natural mode of interacting with people, which is very different from mine as you have probably noticed."

And was that to be considered a compliment or an insult?

There was a long pause after that and Lizzy wondered if he had changed his mind, but then it turned out he had been writing a veritable wall of text.

"About hating lawyers. I do not hate lawyers. As you pointed out, half of my family is in the law business and I was expected to go into it, but it has never been in my character to persuade and negotiate for a living (I repeat that I have nothing against lawyers, I simply do not have that propensity). I chose to follow in my father's footsteps, instead. When I said that your profession would be a problem in case of a future relationship between us, I meant it would create problems for you, not for me. As you know, my mother is a prominent judge in this country and you also work for my family's firm, which would inevitably lead to conflicts of interests and complications in your work environment, possibly in the way of rumours that you are using me to further your career. During our discussion, I never implied that you would have to change your profession and I don't know how you arrived at that conclusion. I suppose we were both too unsettled to think lucidly."

There was another long pause. Elizabeth started to reflect on what he had written. She reached a conclusion.

He picked up her call immediately. "Hello?" He said with uncertainty.

"Hi." Elizabeth bit her cheek. God, this was going to be awkward. "Look, if we have to have this conversation we should probably do it in person."

He didn't answer straight away, which felt dreadful to Elizabeth's feelings, "Where are you?"

Elizabeth raised her gaze and looked around. "A bench in the garden. There are long, flat wooden boxes full of… rosemary, I think"

"The herb garden. Wait there."

A couple of minutes later, Darcy appeared in the distance, striding with purpose across the greenery. He wasn't wearing his eyeglasses anymore but had brought Elizabeth's jacket for her. "Here. It's starting to get cooler."

She blinked. "Thank you. Would you like to sit?"

Darcy sat on the bench and stayed silent. He had his hands in his coat's pocket and seemed incapable of looking at her, but instead stared at his shoes, who were mindlessly scraping the ground.

Elizabeth started to think that perhaps calling him had been a mistake, as it was clear that he was able to express himself better through writing— Wait, is he introverted? Is he shy? Jane told me he was shy, how did I miss that?

"I would like to apologize," he interrupted her thoughts, "for my behaviour and my words this evening. And, for trying to kiss you before... Twice… I admit that I believed my feelings would be well received, but even then, I should have respected you more than that."

She was quick to recover from her surprise. "I apologize too. I should have given you the time to defend yourself. Reading your texts— I did misunderstand you, at least on some points." She sighed. "I suppose you are right and lawyers are quite a forceful bunch."

"No. You were right. I should have got to know you before badmouthing you to Charles."

"Oh, I don't think I would have been less angry in that case."

Darcy replayed his words in his head and winced, but from the glint in her eyes, he saw that she was teasing him. He visibly relaxed. "No, of course not."

"I'm sorry too, again. I pride myself on my discernment when it comes to character and when I overheard—"

"Eavesdropped."

"Fine, eavesdropped your phone call with Charles, I decided that there was nothing more to discover in you. I was wrong, of course. My discernment seems to be a bit rusty of late."

"No, you only saw what I was showing. I was an ogre the whole afternoon. My only excuse can be a terrible jet lag and— I do not have the talent of getting easily acquainted with strangers. I often make bad first impressions. And when I came here, I certainly wasn't expecting to find someone just out of the shower."

She smiled incredulously. "Don't tell me I disrupted your order of things."

"It made me uncomfortable." He spoke quietly. "I truly do not hate lawyers. But growing up with a lot of them isn't always easy for a quiet person and that is not the kind of environment I want to put myself in again. You know my aunt and I suspect my cousin Richard, so you can imagine the dinner table conversations."

"My mother is a divorce lawyer. Our dinner conversations are about how our future husbands will ruin her daughters' lives. Sometimes I wonder if my parents are still together because they love each other or because my mother wrote the perfect prenup."

Darcy laughed and Elizabeth marvelled at the sound. Had she truly never heard him laugh? She had to remind herself that they had only known each other only for an afternoon, even if it seemed much longer time had passed.

There was a silence after that and Elizabeth did not have the heart to interrupt it. Darcy was staring at the garden and seemed to be thinking intensely about something, his brow furrowed.

At last, he nodded to himself and seemed to make a decision. "Elizabeth." He looked at her in the eyes with the most serious expression. "About what I was going to write before you called."

Elizabeth blushed. "Please. We don't need to— I was obviously wrong about that too, you don't even have to tell me. It doesn't matter."

"Yes, it does. To me." He said forcefully but then quietened. He looked at her as if asking for permission. "I want to explain it all the same."

Elizabeth silently nodded and turned to look at the garden, at her shoes, at her hands, at the sky, anywhere but at him.

Darcy cleared his throat. "About never being in town. I didn't mean to… ask you to be… Ah…"

"To be your booty call."

"That one." He seemed even more uncomfortable but determined to continue. "It was never my intention. I value you and— What I meant to say is that my work brings me to travel all around the world, constantly. I could start refusing abroad projects, but it would take time to complete the ones I have currently undertaken. I know that it's not ideal, two or three times a month, but that is all I can offer at the moment. That is what I meant. And Pemberley is my ancestral home. I didn't mean to hide you there like some dirty little secret. It is very important to my family— we go there whenever we can. And about coming with me during my trips, sometimes my sister, Georgiana, accompanies me when she is free from university, so I was thinking of something similar, not forcing you to leave everything behind to follow me. I thought it could be— nice." He cleared his throat. "In any case, I had no right to plan a future without even asking if you agreed on the fundamental premise, so I apologize for that too."

He eyed her warily, but she didn't notice. "I see." She simply said.

Elizabeth stayed silent for a long while, reflecting on what he had just said. He tried to look at her surreptitiously to gauge her reaction, but Elizabeth noticed it anyway. It suddenly occurred to her that he had not stared at her for the whole afternoon in disapprobation.

"Would you like to start over?" She blurted out quickly.

Darcy, who had been finding Elizabeth's lack of creation quite discouraging, felt revived. "I would like that."

"Well, then." Elizabeth smiled and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you. Elizabeth Bennet."

Darcy contained his grin. "Fitzwilliam Darcy."

"They named you after your mother's maiden name?"

"It's a tradition for the firstborns in our family."

Elizabeth realized she was still holding his hand and abruptly let it go. She frantically looked for something to say. "I still can't believe you are Judge Fitzwilliam's son."

"Why? Everyone tells me that we resemble each other remarkably."

"Oh no, that is true, but…" She shook her head. "I'm a great admirer of her work."

"I could arrange for you to meet her."

"Oh no, I would feel too much like a fawning Collins, but thank you." Fearing that he would believe she was really angling for an invitation, she quickly changed the subject: "I have never seen this part of the garden before. Jane was supposed to take me on a tour but we never found the occasion."

"We are in the herb garden. Jane wanted to make sure the varieties planted were to her liking, so we spent hours comparing gardening manuals and cookbooks. The tunnel of roses from which we arrived was also her request. They are not in bloom yet, as you can see."

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically. "You were involved in choosing the plants?"

"I designed the whole garden."

Elizabeth was dumbstruck for the second (third?) time that evening.

"Perhaps you didn't know I'm a landscape architect…?" Darcy offered. (A landscape architect! That's why he had said that he wasn't an architect quite like Jane!) "It was my wedding gift to Jane and Charles."

"And then there is me who got them a toaster…" Elizabeth said without thinking. Darcy laughed again, giving her the time to recover from the shock. "You did a beautiful job. The park is my favourite part of Netherfield."

"Thank you. I would show you around now, but it's already late, the sun will start to set soon. It is meant to be the perfect reproduction of a garden of the era the house was originally built. Well, with some modern commodities."

He was bursting with things to say about that garden, all of them on the tip of his tongue. But, Darcy reflected, she certainly doesn't want to know about it. About how I spent the longest time deciding where to position the vegetable garden, or about how those willow trees at the back have been there for centuries and I had to make them work in the composition of the landscape. I should find something else to interest her.

And then she asked: "For example?"

She was smiling, encouraging him to talk. He hesitated and started talking.

They both lost track of the time, as he discussed Jane's roses, and then somehow about how he and his father were working to better Pemberley's sustainability, and then about sustainability in general and her experience volunteering for the preservation of Longbourn Woods with her sisters when they were teenagers ("But I'm the only one still involved. And then, of course, there is Mary, who became a marine biologist and is busy saving whales.")

At last, Darcy realized just how late it had become and warned her that the garden's sprinklers would turn on in five minutes or so, so they should better go back to the house.

Elizabeth nodded and followed him under the tunnel of roses, looking at his back in wonder. Where had this man been hiding the whole afternoon? This man, full of interesting to say, passionate about his profession, who cared about her opinion on carbon offsetting? Or perhaps he had always been there and she had been a fool for not recognizing him sooner.

Remembering how she had thought him the worst man in the world, worst even than Wickham, Elizabeth finally realized: Yes, I have been a fool.

"Do you know a George Wickham?" She suddenly asked.

He froze on his feet. "Wickham!" Darcy stared at her. He had, somehow, in some miraculous way, managed to salvage his relationship with Elizabeth after that disastrous afternoon and now, now Wickham—!

"He told me that you were neighbours and that you grew up together. He is one of my pro bono—"

"You cannot believe anything that comes out of his filthy mouth." He spat, trying to control his anger.

"You did not grow up together then, I see." She quipped.

"No, that one is true. But everything else… You can not trust him. He is always exaggerating or fabricating or bending the truth. "

"He is worse than a lawyer, then." Then, seeing his pained expression: "I'm sorry, I was just teasing you. And, don't worry, I learnt to not trust him the first time he didn't show up to his hearing."

"Good." Perhaps the situation was not so desperate, then. He resumed walking and Lizzy followed. "What is he being tried for?"

"It's not related to drug dealing. I should probably tell you, though, that he has tried to slander you to me."

"What did he say?"

"That you pushed your drug dealing charges on him while you were in college."

He stopped walking again and looked at her square in the face. "I want to make something clear. It was his drug. I had no idea and was never involved ."

"I know."

"And when he got kicked out by his parents, I still tried to help him, since I considered him my oldest friend. But then I discovered that he is not addicted. He is not a victim, he sells the drug. He lures and exploits college students into addiction. I told him that if he did not stop dealing, it would be the last time he heard from me. He didn't stop, of course. He did not mention anything about my sister or Bangkok, did he?"

"Not at all."

"Good. If he brings it up please tell me. He signed a confidentiality agreement, and that would be the perfect excuse to let him rot in prison."

"I will. But could I ask you, as a personal favour, to refrain from any legal proceedings against him until my job with him is done? Or I may be stuck representing him?"

"Right, he is one of your clients. Wait, is he the one that faked a heart attack earlier? He is being represented by Fitzwilliam&De Bourgh?!"

"Yes, as a pro bono case."

"Pro bono— Does Richard know?"

"I'm not sure. He is not much in the office of late, with his electoral campaign coming up and everything. But I suppose he knew of the previous times we represented him."

"Previous— I will talk with my aunt. This is unacceptable." He marched towards the house but then noticed that she wasn't following him. He turned to look at her.

"William. Look, I have no idea what happened between the two of you and I don't want to know. I will tell you if he talks about Bangkok or your sister. But you have to understand that in any case, I have to protect my client. When you go and talk with your aunt, I will still be his lawyer."

"If you knew what he did—"

"But I don't. And even if you told me (and you can't since you signed a confidentiality agreement), it wouldn't matter: my job is to give him a fair trial, even if I loathe him with every fibre of my being."

Darcy looked intently in her eyes but his gaze held no anger. No, it was the same focused gaze he had had just before trying to kiss her.

Oh no. Had her passionate defence of Wickham's fundamental rights somehow awoken ardent feelings in him? Or perhaps he was angry and she was misunderstanding him again. And, why was he staring at her without doing anything? Oh, perhaps because she had brutally rejected him just ten minutes before.

Then it's me that should— but what if he is angry at me instead?!

Frustrated at her inability to understand him, Elizabeth walked up to him. He appeared surprised, but not at all averse to her closeness. Her heart was beating so wildly she could not think of what to do next and then the sprinklers turned on.

Darcy muttered an oath while she burst out laughing and her laughter infected him too, so they both laughed, as the sprinklers splashed water all around the garden and on them. Then Darcy took her hand and they ran towards the house, him leading the way since Elizabeth had no idea of where they were, and when they finally arrived there and he managed to open the front door, they were both breathless and drenched to the bone.

"Why did you put up so many sprinklers?"

"I assure you, that is the bare minimum with these climate conditions—"

Darcy stopped talking, because as he had been worrying about taking off his shoes and dripping water on the floorboards and where they could find towels and while he had been trying to not look at her because he knew her jacket and dress would be completely soaked — and if her wet hair had discomposed him once then what would a completely drenched Elizabeth do to him? — while he had been thinking all these things at once when on the corner of his eyes he saw that Elizabeth was grinning at him, her complexion brightened by the exercise, her dress clenching to her just as he had predicted, and her eyes laughing in a way that made him wonder if she had really been about to kiss him before the sprinklers had crashed their moment.

She dispelled that doubt, by smiling and coming up to him, grazing his sopping wet chest with her fingers, then letting them travel upwards, towards his throat, he gulped, and then to nestle in his hair. He cautiously put a hand on her waist as she rose to her tiptoes, her hazy eyes, her lips a breath away.

"Liz? Is that you?"

Elizabeth pushed away Darcy, shoving him against the wall behind him. "Lydia! What are you doing here?"

["That's right, I was involved in the business too!"

"Lydia, let us tell the story, dear."

"But you have to admit that was quite the plot twist."

"Alright, it was, it was."]

Lydia, her little sister, came down the stairs while rubbing her sleepy eyes. She was wearing a pyjama and the rounded, thick eyeglasses that she never used in public. Her hair was held up in a floppy ponytail and there was no concealer to hide her dark circles. "I'm living here. Where is Jane and why are you here?"

"Elizabeth, would you mind…?" Darcy asked from the floor, where he laid covered by outer garments: in his fall, he had knocked down the coat hanger.

"Oh gosh, Fitzwilliam, I'm so sorry."

"William, call me William." He mumbled as she helped him to stand. He leaned on her, still bamboozled after his fall.

"Why, hello William." Lydia said eyeing Darcy's wet shirt appreciatively. "Would you introduce us, Liz?"

"Yes, yes. He is Darcy, Charles' best man, and she is my sister Lydia, who is supposed to be with her study group for her bar exam."

Darcy groaned, but more for the pain he felt in the head than for Lydia's profession. "Another lawyer?"

Lydia smiled proudly. "An entertainment lawyer, not a boring one like mom and Liz. And I am studying! That study group was full of dull people who couldn't focus for two minutes, so Jane said to come and stay here until Friday when they move in."

"What are you talking about? Today is Friday, there was the housewarming party! They are moving in today."

"Oh, I must have lost the count of the days." Lydia yawned. "But more importantly, why are you both completely drenched?"

"The sprinklers." Answered Darcy as Elizabeth made him sit on a bench and took a look at his head.

"Really? I would have voted for a dip in the lake."

"There is a lake?" Elizabeth asked Darcy.

"There is no lake."

"Good. Wait," she talked to Lydia, "you mean that you have been here the whole afternoon? Where were you?"

"Up in my room, sleeping? I woke up, like, two minutes ago." She giggled. "I'm getting too old for all-nighters. By the way, were you making out before I came in?"

Darcy startled and Elizabeth decided for a hasty retreat. "It's none of your business. Call mom, she was looking for you. William, your head is ok. Let's get changed before we ruin Jane's floors."

Darcy nodded and they both sped towards the stairs.

"Yes, yes, go 'get changed'." Lydia shouted after them. "More like go 'put your tongues in each other's throats'."

"We would already have if you had not interrupted us so ungraciously." Mumbled Darcy.

Only Elizabeth heard him and Lydia was left to wonder why her sister had suddenly started to laugh so wholeheartedly.

Whatever. She took her phone and messaged Jane: "Got the dates wrong so still at Netherfield. E is snogging a hunk in your bedroom? Weird. Btw where r u what happened to party."

["And this is the story of how Darcy met Lizzy and Lizzy met Darcy."

"They started dating, seeing each other in person as often as they could—"

"Which was not very often."

"—and in the meantime talking on the phone and writing emails to each other. Until Darcy proposed the day after our own wedding and here we are right now."

"All in all, I think that despite their bumpy start, they managed quite well and will be very happy."

"Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to toast once again to our friends Darcy and Lizzy. Despite their bumpy start, let's wish them every happiness."

All the guests stood and toasted to the happy couple, who smiled.

Darcy, considering himself now safe, ventured to say: "Charles, frankly, I am a bit disappointed."

"Indeed, Darcy?"

"You have talked so much about this toast, I thought I would have to move to Mars from the embarrassment. But I suppose the ananas and goat toast cannot be easily equalled."

"Or the pumpkin costume one." Added Lizzy, thinking of her own toast to Jane.

Charles threw his toast notes on the table, startling the room. "And that is where you are wrong! You think you are so clever, Darcy and Lizzy, that you have complete control over your life and your relationship. You think you have won, haven't you? Well, you haven't, because this toast, this war and your Origin Story, is not yet over. Jane, the floor is yours. Show them what we are truly capable of."

Jane was only too happy to comply.]

Somewhere thirty miles away from Netherfield, someone received a text.

"Got the dates wrong so still at Netherfield. E is snogging a hunk in your bedroom? Weird. Btw where r u what happened to party."

"Oh, dear. I think we should better hurry back now, Charles."

Charles took the last spoonful of his sinful chocolate mousse before replying: "Why? Did they kill each other?"

"No, no. But Lydia is there for some reason. I think she found them kissing." She gestured to a waiter for the bill.

"Really? High five, my bride. It all went according to your plan."

Jane smiled as she gathered her purse. "They are both so stubborn… I just wished to give them an occasion to get to know each other.

"Yes, but who would have thought to turn cancelling the party in a forced blind date? To tell them that we would be at the police the whole time so that they would be stuck together at Netherfield? You created love out of a wasted afternoon, my dear. And we also got an excellent dinner out of it."

Jane smiled and rose from her chair. "I have always wanted to eat in this restaurant. The lamb ribs were perfect, weren't they?" Charles helped her to put her coat on. "I must admit that we played with fire a little, but it seems we were perfectly successful. If Lydia truly caught them kissing, then I wouldn't be surprised if we were to start planning for another wedding in a few months."

Jane Bennet kissed her husband-to-be on the cheek and the couple left the restaurant a tad more happy and satisfied than when they had entered it.

[Silence. The reception hall was as silent as a graveyard. The guests looked at Jane and Charles, and then at each other, and then at the newly married couple, wondering if they truly had just heard what they thought they had just heard.

Jane and Charles were smiling smugly. Lizzy and Darcy sat speechless at the wedding table, their whole vision of the world suddenly upturned.

It was an unexpected voice to raise first from the tables.

"You mean to tell me this is all your fault? You, Jane Bennet! You not only marry an evil doctor but also create a convoluted plan to marry off your sister to a gardener? And with no prenup? Have you gone mad?! Have I taught you nothing? Who will you have Mary marry next? A fisherman?!"

The reception hall's attention was quickly redirected to Mr Bennet's attempts to calm his wife ("Now, now, Fanny."), as Lizzy and Darcy observed it all without seeing it.

Suddenly, Lizzy felt Darcy's hand slide on her own. They looked at each other and finally smiled, forgetting the chaos that surrounded them.

If a little smugness from Jane and Charles was all it took for a lifetime of happiness, then they would gladly accept it.

They toasted at that.]

Final final notes

At last, I can tell you that the "prettyish kind of wilderness" the title refers to is in fact the garden Darcy designed. I am curious, how many of you had guessed something of it?

This would be the moment to thank my beta reader if I had one (how do people find beta readers nowadays by the way?) Since I can't thank a nonexistent person, I will thank you, readers, those of you who left reviews, those who encouraged, those who criticized, those who praised and also all of those silent readers who boosted up the stats and my ego anyway :)

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

I am already working on something else, a very... very long regency story. I have no idea of when I will start posting it because I am still in the midst of editing the final draft (hey! If you want to read it now then how about becoming a beta-reader?) (yes I'm a bit too obsessed with beta readers these days) but I hope to have it finished by the end of the month. If you want to get updates on the process + future stories + read a post about the genesis of Pickle, I go by pennyngram on Tumblr too.

Well, this is truly the end. Again, thank you for reading and I hope to see you again soon with another story.