Darcy tripped while bolting up the stairs to the entrance to his estate, but he didn't care. He kept running, faster than he'd ever ran before, faster than he'd ran after her when she surprised him by appearing at Pemberley the first time, faster than any time he'd chased Wickham down, faster than he'd run back to Longbourn when he thought she might have changed her mind about him.
Finally, he reached the parlor, from whence he could hear feminine voices in soft conversation. He burst into the room and dived towards his wife. Kneeling in front of her, he pulled her face down and kissed her full on the mouth.
"Are you, are we, am I, are you?" Darcy panted, not wavering his eyes in the slightest from hers.
"If I understand you correctly, Sir, I am, we are, you are, and—again—I am."
Darcy burst out laughing as a tear escaped his eyes, and he rose to his feet. He pulled Lizzy to her feet, lifted her in his arms, and spun her around. Suddenly he stopped and put her down.
"Are you alright? Do you feel well? Are you hungry? Tired?"
"I am fine, thank you, merely desirous that you welcome the company that arrived shortly after lunch," Lizzy laughed.
Darcy turned to see Jane, Georgie, and the still unenlightened Charlotte Collins all trying to stifle giggles at the sight of the infamously haughty Mr. Darcy's response to the news, while Mr. Collins looked deeply torn between wanting to disapprove of Mr. Darcy's actions on behalf of Lady Catherine and wanting to understand what was happening, so as to more easily ingratiate himself to the wealthy host, who might not currently support him but was most likely to outlive his aunt.
"My apologies, ladies, reverend. I lost myself for a moment. Mrs. Darcy, might I have a moment alone with you."
"Certainly, Mr. Darcy. Do excuse us for a moment, won't you?" Darcy silently lead her to an empty room several doors away from the parlor, where he proceeded to kiss her senseless again.
"How long have you known? How long until…" He trailed off, too nervous and excited to finish his question.
"Only a few days, William. And in November, the shades of Pemberley are indeed to be thus polluted, and you may tell your Aunt Catherine I said so. I was going to tell you the day you left, but when I woke up alone, I thought it might be more fun to let you figure it out for yourself."
"I see I shall never be able to leave you alone for any length of time again."
"Oh, most ardently agreed, William." Lizzy smiled at him.
"How long do you suppose we might reasonably be absent from the parlor?" Darcy asked, stepping towards Lizzy and backing her against a low table.
"Hmm, Georgiana is becoming quite the accomplished hostess, and she does have Jane there." With that reassurance that they would not be breaching social etiquette, Darcy grasped his wife's hips and lifted her up onto the table.
Meanwhile, in the woods surrounding Pemberley, Mr. Wickham and Mr. Creedance sat at small table in a small cabin, nearing the bottom of a bottle of gin they'd found in the cellar.
"Well, Creed, do we understand each other?" slurred Wickham.
"You want revenge on Darcy, and couldn't care less what happens to the little woman, correct?"
"Indeed."
"And I want the bitch, and don't give a damn what happens to the man."
"Correct."
"You are surprisingly composed regarding my desire for your sister-in-law, Wick."
"I can't say your present thoughts hadn't crossed my mind before, Creed, but Miss Elizabeth is far to stubborn for me. Some fillies aren't worth breaking." Wickham's luck that Lydia couldn't hear what he was saying over her culinary struggles in the next room was incomparable. Admittedly, part of the noise emitting from the kitchen was the result of Lydia's anger at being expected to cook. "By the by, I believe we may need to exercise more caution. I think some of the locals have noticed the dwindling chicken population."
"Well, then, Wicky, I believe we will be able to help each other meet our goals. The moment opportunity strikes, we'll have at them. A toast! To the Darcys, they never find better friends."
"To the Darcys."