Epilogue

Life had settled into a routine at Pemberley by August. Elizabeth had her own desk placed in the study so that she could write her own letters while remaining close to her husband. While he would never declare his distaste openly, it clearly took the steward a few weeks to accustom to having to speak with both Darcys together when issues arose on the estate. He did, however, learn to trust her sound judgement. She clearly was not one of those women who knew nothing of estate management or made decisions based on irrational sensibilities.

The butler also grew used to finding the couple in the study when he delivered the post. Finding his master busy with his steward, he handed the tray of letters to Elizabeth, who had been nestled on the settee reading her book. She shuffled through them quietly, sorting out those for her husband and her letters from Hertfordshire. There was also a letter from Lady Matlock, but that one could definitely wait. As soon as the Steward shut the door behind him, Elizabeth rose and met her husband at his desk.

"Sommers has a neat idea for the wheat fields." He began.

"He usually does." Elizabeth responded, stepping right in front of him, allowing him to rest his head over her belly. The staff were well trained not to open a door without hearing from Mr. or Mrs. Darcy, so they were able to completely relax together.

"What news has come from Hertfordshire?" He asked, not really interested in the conversation, but taking comfort from her presence.

"Lydia seems to have an admirer. A Mr. Holms, third son of Sir Walter Holms."

"His family are well respected."

"My mother will be sorry he is not in line for a title."

"Not every title can be inherited, but she could definitely do worse. Bingley knows more of the family, as they are near his mills in the North."

"I believe he has already spoken well of the match. Jane seems much relieved."

"So, I take it no one has announced they are expecting a child?"

"It is a bit early to spread such news. Are you eager to be the first?"

"Perhaps, though I have no wish to share you, and I doubt your mother will remain at home when she learns you are expecting. My aunt has started writing to your mother in case we tell her first, and she will likely be on our doorstep much sooner." He began kissing her belly before slowly rising to kiss her lips. He picked her up to set her on his desk and deepened the kiss. Elizabeth randomly set the letters on his desk so that she could grip his shoulders and feel the muscles through his shirt.

He had barely begun teasing Elizabeth's skirt up to her knees when there was a knock at the door. Groaning, he righted her clothing and helped her scoot down before allowing the interfering butler to enter and announce that a carriage had been spotted coming up the drive.

Once the door was closed again, Mr. Darcy sighed in exasperation. "If this is your father again, we will have to lock the doors when we are alone together. His penchant to enter a room without even knocking astounds me."

"He was here just a fortnight ago. How could it be my father so soon?"

"He will probably just say he finished his book. If your mother has started planning another wedding, it would be enough of a motivation for him to come." He rolled his eyes, unable to imagine a time he would relish being away from Elizabeth. "We have a quarter hour before the carriage will arrive, and we will have to host whoever it is. Come here so we can finish what we started. Your father or someone else, it will be hours before we can be alone again."

Elizabeth laughed as she returned to her spot on the desk, "Fitz, you have completely lost your romantic side."

"There will be time for romance later. Perhaps tomorrow I will abscond with you on a picnic and romance you by the creek, far away from prying eyes. For now, I simply wish to worship your body before I have to share your company with others."

At the predicted time, Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were properly attired to welcome not only Mr. Bennet, but Mary as well to their home. Mary had taken a liking to the pianoforte on her last visit and had no desire to help her mother shop for lace. "The wedding is not even certain, and she has already purchased three new dresses for Lydia." She exclaimed more than once. The only way to prevent Mary from discussing the topic further was to invite the young vicar to dinner as often as possible, which neither Mary nor Mr. Pendleton minded in the slightest.

The end

AN: Someone asked for a steamy epilogue, and I felt like obliging just a bit. Sorry to have leapt over Kitty and Jane's weddings. I hope your weekend is enjoyable. Not sure what my next story will be. Part of me wants to do a compromise story, but I have done that a few times, and it does get old. I would like to do a modern version, and I have an idea in mind, but I get stuck easier with modern ideas. I should probably look back at my uncompleted stories and just take up one of them first.

As a reminder, this story will be taken down for publishing around December 10th. Don't wait to reread it if you so desire.