The spring sunshine was glinting through the velvet curtains of the Oak Bedroom, a luxurious suite of three rooms which looked out to the East. It was still very early, and Rupert was certain that he could still hear the song of the lark echoing in the parkland. His head ached from the amounts of champagne he had consumed the previous night, and he lay still and unmoving on the cotton pillowcases, the face of Fitzwilliam Darcy peering down eerily from his place on the wall over the embroidered velvet canopy. It was early as the fires had not been lit yet, he pulled his robe from the chair, wrapped it tightly around him into the shiver of cold that pervaded Pemberley even in the summertime.

"Come back to bed," she said from that place halfway between dreaming and awake.

She was softer in the morning, her edges smoothed by sleep, and he climbed back into bed, pulling her close to him, as she curled her arm around his neck and kissed him deeply. He pulled away first, and she opened her eyes, looked worried.

"Is everything alright?"

"Perfect."

He smiled, he thought it was to himself, but she must have seen it cross his face, and she smiled back, kissing him again with open eyes and a laugh.

They had walked around the lake, settling on the grass opposite the house, where she kicked off her shoes and lay back to look at the stars, pointing out to him the Ursa Major and Ursa Minor as they giggled, slightly drunk, she leaned over and loosened his bow tie, and he felt himself blush, remembering the night after the ball at Derbyshire House, where they had fallen into bed, and he had unbuttoned her dress with fumbling fingers.

"We should be on the roof really," she whispered, passing him the newly-lit cigarette and pointing up at the constellations, "that's where the views are best."

"You are very learned in the art of stargazing, Lady Darcy…" she smelled like jasmine and lavender.

"It is one of my hidden passions… astronomy. Papa bought me a telescope for my birthday and I swear you can see Jupiter if the conditions are right."

"Jupiter?"

"Yes! Isn't it wondrous to think of all everything… all of the worlds out there. Can you imagine what it would be like to see the world from so far away?"

He had never really thought about it before. That was the thing about Millicent Darcy, she made him think things he had never thought about before.

"How do you do that?" His brow furrowed a little, "see everything so differently?"

"I see things how they should be, Rupert, rather than how they are."

"Your Manchester women, again?"

She rolled her eyes and rose to her feet, "maybe my Manchester women, but maybe everything… look at all of this," she stretched her arm out at the glowing expanse of Pemberley, "this is the only place where I ever feel truly at home, Rupert, and one day my father will die, my brother will inherit and I will be forced to leave. Where is the justice in that?"

He pulled off his jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders, there was a chill in the air now as the summer breeze drifted in from the peaks, "it's the way things have always been, Penny, but it doesn't mean it's wrong."

"It doesn't mean that it's right either," she sighed picking up her shoes and walking along the grass, he followed behind her, "things need to change."

"In what way? Should we all just fall into bed with each other and damn the consequences?"

"Is that what you think of me, Rupert Fitzwilliam?" Her voice took on an air of indignance, "that I casually make love to every handsome gentleman who crosses my path."

"What have you done to led me to believe anything different? You were gone the following morning, and then you ignored me for the rest of the week. You have no appreciation for how cold you can be when you choose it, Millicent Darcy."

"Cold?" She turned and began to walk with heavy feet towards the path, "what did you want me to do? Ask Mrs Boyle to bring us up a tray? Or," she struggled to pull the strap of her shoe around the back of her heel as it slipped on her stockings, "should one have it announced in The Times?"

"Imagine the scandal!"

His voice was amused, but she was right. It was no laughing matter. He had been terrified that someone must have seen her slip away from his room on the second floor of Derbyshire House, that some errant maid or eagle-eyed valet would have spied Lady Darcy sneaking back to her rooms. Rupert knew that he would have been alright, that his reputation would have been unharmed, maybe even bolstered by the dalliance, but Millicent would have been ruined if their liaison was discovered.

"Just because I don't want to marry, it doesn't mean that I don't have a desire to love and be loved… Why should I not be afforded that, simply because I am a woman?"

"You say this as if love comes easily for men."

"I know enough of men to understand that you can separate pleasure from moral obligation."

"That is true of some men, but not all men." He lowered his head, "not this man. You know that."

"I do know that. Why do you think I…why do you think I that wanted it to be you? It could only ever have been you."

And then he thought he might have understood.

"Me?"

"Yes, that is why it was alright to still write to you and not feel awkward," she said, "dance with you as if nothing had happened, as if…" she hesitated, and he wondered what she wanted to say. "I only asked Mama to invite you to the shoot so I could spend time with you, even if you preferred the company of my brothers."

Over by Orangery, Edward Darcy was loudly singing an old Army song with one of his friends, and they could pick out the voice of his wife carrying across the water berating him for his drunken behaviour, as Gig and Bertie helped to take him inside. He caught her smile softly to herself. The Darcys were a loving and devoted family, the three children all close in age, and growing up together in a manner less rigid than his own. Rupert had grown up at Waddingham, the great Fitzwilliam estate in Wakefield, with its ancient customs and strict rules. His father had been the eldest son of Mabel Darcy, and he had inherited the title of Earl of Matlock and all of the responsibilties that came with it when he was just a boy. His mother, drowning in her own sorrow, had taken the older children away from the cold, unforgiving isles and travelled the world. But the young boy still wretched with grief had been returned back to school to continue his education. It had instilled a sense of duty in Richard Fitzwilliam which resulted in him becoming a stern father and a harsh critic to the six sons that he was blessed with, although it gave them all a slightly resentful nature and a predisposition for their mama.

Rupert had always loved the warm freedom of Pemberley when he would visit each summer, free to run around the grounds with a reckless abandon and experience the affectionate family atmosphere that he was missing at home. Even blustery Edward, whose sole reason for inviting the Fitzwilliam brothers was to bolster the estate cricket team, would join in with Cecily's end of summer theatrical productions – throwing water at the players from the wings, and generally making a nuisance – whilst Rupert would timidly peek from behind the curtain at his own father sitting in the front row with a mean mouth and disapproving stare.

"I always enjoy any time that I spend at Pemberley, you know it is one of my most favourite places in the world, but that was not why I came. You know that I had hoped that it meant you would…"

"Rupert, please don't."

"What do you want from me, Penny? I know you will never marry me! You've made that perfectly clear, am I simply invited here to amuse you?"

"No, of course not! You are invited here because-"

"Because of what?!"

"There is no need to interrupt what I am saying! There is no need to be rude," she said. "You knew… you know full well that I don't want to marry anyone, but if I did you know that I- "

"That you would what… want to marry me?"

The words were left hanging in the air, the world became very silent all at once; as if everything was balanced upon what she might say next.

"Yes."

She reached for him in the darkness, the twinkle of the Darcy emerald heavy on her finger. He felt the coldness of it first, the platinum band smooth against his skin, and the warmth of her hand as she intertwined her fingers in between his. He wanted to look up, but he was scared. Scared of what this all meant.

"Do you mean that?"

"Yes, but can we not just take these moments that we have and enjoy them? There is going to be war, and it's going to be huge and catastrophic. We both know it. Who even knows where we will all be when it is over."

"We don't know where we will be, Penny, we could be anywhere," he took a breath, now or never, "but wouldn't it be better if we didn't know together?"

She eyed him with suspicion, "you don't need a marriage license for that, Rupert."

"That's not what I -"

"It is," she rolled her eyes, focusing on the heavens above, swinging her legs as she sat on the tree trunk that lay alongside the pathway "you may pander to my opinions and agree with me out of politeness, but you said it yourself… you want a wife, and you need an heir. We can enjoy each other's company, for now, and we can enjoy each other, but when it comes to it, you will need to do your duty. We both will."

"We will," he said, now fully understanding what she was asking of him.

"But there is a problem," she turned to face him now, could finally look him in the eye properly, "you see, I think that I'm in love you, Rupert, and it puts a spanner in the works somewhat. Once I figured it out it made everything much more complicated, and I never dreamed I would have to tell you. I thought you already knew."

"There are a lot of things I know about you, Millicent Darcy," he said, as he took a seat next to her on the fallen branch, "I know that you are one of the cleverest, bravest women of my acquaintance, and I know that you will do anything you set your mind to, including getting yourself sent to Holloway, or committing arson. I know how you argue sometimes for the sake of it, purely to see how the argument will resolve… I know you such a good shot that pheasants from here to Dunmarleigh quake with fear at the start of the season, and I know that you still cry over Padgett. You are right to as well because he was the best dog whoever lived…"

"He really was."

"…and I know you will do anything your papa will ask, except behave as you ought." He paused for a moment, didn't want to glance over in case he lost his nerve, "and I know that you are the only woman I have ever loved, the only woman I expect I will ever love… But as for you loving me back? I didn't know that, and I never expected it."

"Neither did I," her voice was barely a whisper as if she was a child again and secret sharing in the nursery during the dusky hours before sleep. "The thing is, Rupert, it can't be the same now."

"No, maybe not," he took placed his hand gently on her cheek, cupping her face, "because we have loved each other, and that is a rare and special thing."

"So," she said, feeling his breath on her cheek and his hand on her waist, "where do we go from here?"

"Jupiter," he said, kissing her for what felt like the very first time.