Elizabeth descended languidly down the wide Pemberly staircase, content with the way her hands slid over the smooth surface of the railing. The feeling that she was a princess going down to meet her adoring public still had not worn off in nearly a year of walking these very steps. She enjoyed the feeling and when no one was watching she would sometimes repeat the process over again and wave serenely out into the imaginary crowd with a flourish of her wrist and elbow. Of course she had not done that recently due to the terrible experience of having her husband walk in on her with some random unknown visitors trailing behind him. Elizabeth had been deeply mortified, though Darcy had thought it endlessly amusing and sometimes, when walking down with her to breakfast, would imitate her movements with a feigned haughtiness and overly swinging hips up until the point where his wife threatened to push him down the rest of the steps and then pretend it was a total accident if he happened to die.
She heard familiar voices at the door and she hurried quickly to the entryway. There, standing in the November winds, were Darcy's cousins, the Fitzwilliam brothers. She had grown to like the two immensely, Colonel Fitwilliam in particular since he seemed to be in endless supply of hilarious and humiliating stories of Darcy as a child and young man. Colonel Fitwilliam and Elizabeth had also made a dastardly duo in annoying the possessive and smothering, protective Darcy by pretending to flirt with each other whenever they were together, endlessly vexing her husband. On April Fools Day Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had pretended to fall madly in love with each other and purposefully allowed Darcy to walk in on them mid kiss in the drawing room. Darcy was in mid swing with the fireplace poker when the two suddenly burst out with their 'April fools!'. Unfortunately, it was a little too late to stop the full momentum of the greatly wound up swing. After getting over the fact that Darcy's cousin was laying on the ground unconscious Elizabeth spent a great many hours laughing at Darcy's expense, who, blushing furiously, had to explain to his elder cousin why his younger brother had not shown up to dinner…nor breakfast the next day.
"Geoffrey!" Elizabeth exclaimed, giving her cousin in law a big hug, giggling as he lifted her off the ground and swung her about.
She greeted James similarly, although less expressively, and inquired about his wife before Darcy strode forward to greet his relations. Elizabeth had hastened to bring her own family down to greet the new arrivals, thus had not seen the glare that Darcy had bestowed upon his cousin nor the ungentlemanly tongue that stuck out when Fitwilliam smirked.
The Bennets, Gardiners, Fitwilliams, Bingleys, and Darcys all settled down to a large, opulent, and (mainly concerning the Bennets) loud dinner. Barring the usual highly embarrassing, 'wish you could sink into the floor and disappear' moments, the dinner was comfortable. Mrs. Bennet was thankfully monopolized by Jane's gurgling little girl and Kitty and Mary were too immersed in figuring out correct silverware to properly be as obtrusive as they normally tended to be.
Darcy surveyed the table with a soft smile. Jane and Bingley sat making funny faces at their daughter, who had an instantly cheering audience whenever she did anything. Georgiana was laughing openly with Fitwilliam over something the Gardiners had said and best of all Elizabeth sat by his side, exasperatedly cleaning the bits of food that kept slipping off the dish closest to her while still holding up conversation. Darcy had come to get used to this family atmosphere over the last months. At first it was torture. The noise, the lack of propriety, anything and everything they did grated on his nerves. He endured it for his wife however. Her hand on his knee and the prospect of her disappointment at his ill attempts at making peace with her family pained him far more than her family itself, so he sat and tried his best.
He didn't know when his attitude truly changed. His first accomplishment was with Elizabeth's father, whom he surprisingly found a like mind. Mr. Bennet, instead of the mortification Darcy experienced when observing the Bennet family, was highly amused by their behavior. He surveyed his family like the big father he was and used his dry humor to poke and prod them in the hopes of gauging a reaction and because of his explicit knowledge of them most of the time he was rewarded. In time, Darcy also began to see his wife's family the same way and later, accept them as being his own.
He never truly showed it. Darcy was not one to show any of his true feelings outright. That was what the silent, strict, suffocating, stiff, awkward, and painfully formal dinners that both Darcy and Georgiana went through growing up had done to them. Darcy had quite improved. His lips had worked their way out of their customary line and he no longer acknowledged comments with a monosyllable when he couldn't get away with a nod. His conversations were still not taken in length, but twenty eight years of habit were hard to break. His sister was progressed spectacularly. She was no longer the quiet mouse quivering in the corner, nervous to say anything that could be deemed as wrong. She spoke and was listened to. Her confidence and character strengthened. She smiled more often and that brought great joy to Darcy's heart.
This was what a real family was. They actually cared. They were noisy and annoying, but if ever there was to be an occasion for propriety the ranks would be closed and a face of perfect grace and manners would be displayed to the public. Except for the inevitable mishaps, the Darcy name was moreover preserved. Darcy could not be happier and was contented that his wife felt the same way.
A hand over his own brought him out of his thoughts.
"And what are you brooding over now my love?"
"I am contemplating the perfection of this scene before me. What say you on this matter?"
"Perhaps a little lacking. The noise could use improvement."
Darcy smiled knowingly. "I agree, this cacophony is most insufficient. Of course it is nothing six more filled seats will not fix."
Elizabeth looked at him incredulously. "Six you say. Why sir you have great dreams indeed!"
"Yet six would make me happy. Is it not a wife's duty to please her husband?"
Elizabeth snorted. "That would be sir, but I daresay you have it all wrong for it is a husband's utmost priority to dote on his wife and if you don't acknowledge this then you do not love me."
In a rare display of affection, Darcy planted a light kiss upon the neck of his wife's swan like neck.
"I love you Elizabeth. You know that."
Elizabeth closed her eyes as she felt the warm breath of her husband play across her skin.
"Yes I do know that. I just like to hear you say it because it reminds me each and every time how lucky I am to be your wife and how much joy it is to love someone like you."
"Thank you for mentioning your luck in marriage before your own love for me. It is very comforting," Darcy replied sarcastically, smiling into a second kiss.
Elizabeth gave her husband a playful slap. "Only for you my love."
Dinner was nearly over when a servant rushed into the dining room, speaking only in brief with the master and mistress of the house. Both their countenances changed drastically. Elizabeth became white, the knuckles clutching on the tablecloth becoming deathly pale. Darcy became red and his eyes bore a flame.
Darcy stood and with a calm, but commanding voice he said, "I apologize for the intrusion but we must have a meeting in the foyer immediately. We must discuss a most urgent matter."
This disconcerting order was followed immediately the table's many occupants stood up and left without a word, their faces solemn. Darcy's tone had rent the air of its merry atmosphere and was replaced as apprehension. Fitzwilliam was especially worried. Darcy had made similar announcements in the past, but they were never in the foyer. When twelve year old Darcy told his fourteen year old cousin of his mother's death it had been in the library and when his father had died two years previous he had summoned him to his study. If this was as grave as it seemed then at least it would have been held in one of the upstairs drawing rooms. The foyer just seemed so…ordinary.
They took their seats among the worn, but still fashionable furniture normally occupied by incoming guests. The men folk had grouped together, while the women sat opposite. Mrs. Bennet, not used to extended silences, had already begun to twitter in a very loud whisper. Elizabeth and Darcy were the only ones to remain standing. Darcy was situated near the window, glaring at the rain outside, while his wife stood in front of the recently lit fire. At first she remained silent, her chest heaving from some unknown exertion. Elizabeth's vexation stampeded across her brain as she contemplated what she was about to divulge. The only ones in the room who did not know about the scandal concerning Wickham and Georgiana were Mrs. Bennet, Kitty, and Mary. Bingley was told via Jane, though only with permission. Mr. Bennet was informed by Darcy himself. The Fitzwilliam brothers were of course involved in the matter and the Gardiners knew enough, though not entirely familiar with all the details.
Not even glancing at her husband for her next course of action, Elizabeth, trying to keep a slight quiver from her voice, began to explain.
"A messenger has just arrived to announce the upcoming arrival of…guests. Apparently Lydia and Wickham did not want to alert us to their arrival until it was too late for us to turn them back."
Fitzwilliam stood up in anger and indignation. "It is an outrage! Neverless, rain or shine Wickham nor who he has chosen as wife shall ever set a foot back in Pemberly! He has done enough harm to this family."
His rage was diverted momentarily as Georgiana dropped whatever she had been holding and he went forth to comfort her, although not allowing the glower in his eyes to dissipate.
Mr. Bennet was the next to stand, though he was far more composed. "Why now? They know very well that they are not welcomed here."
From her corner Jane gasped and for a second everyone was relieved that it was Charles holding the babe for they were sure that Jane would have dropped her.
"I promised Lydia she may come and visit me after the birth, but since I had her early she must have…"
"Taken advantage of you giving birth here and planned to use this as excuse to come to Pemberly," Mr. Gardiner finished bitterly.
"Oh woe is me to have conceived such a witless child. If only she could have put what little sense she had into books rather than divulging in loop holes," Mr. Bennet groaned.
Mrs. Bennet finally interjected. Elizabeth was greatly surprised that she had waited so long.
"Oh Mr. Bennet, how could you say such things about your daughter! She simply wants to celebrate the birth of her niece. She is a sweet girl. See how concerned she is? To come all this way in the rain…"
"Probably in the greater hopes that they would not be turned away," Elizabeth replied.
Much like mother's plan to keep Jane at Netherfield, Elizabeth thought sourly.
"I don't see the problem here. You never allow her here. Poor Lydia always feels left out. Whatever has happened in the past should be left there and we should move on," Kitty whined.
"Kitty, for once think about what you say before you speak!" Mrs. Gardiner scolded.
Mrs. Bennet continued to complain and argue baselessly as the rest of the room awaited Darcy's decision. Ultimately as master of the house it was his choice alone. Elizabeth, ignoring her mother's growing hysterics, made her way to her husband's side and putting a comforting hand on his upper arm. His muscles were tight and his jaw was set. Elizabeth did nothing to inquire or rush his thoughts.
At long last he took her hands in his, albeit squeezing harder than normal.
"Do you love me Elizabeth?"
"I believe we have already had this conversation," Elizabeth smiled reassuringly, "I will support whatever decision you should make."
Darcy sighed. "I understand that however unwanted he is, Wickham is still forcibly my brother and that Lydia is your sister, so I-- despite my feelings-- will allow them to stay."
Elizabeth looked deep within her husbands eyes. "Are you sure Fitzwilliam? I do not want you to do this for me alone. I would rather not have them set foot within this place of which I have claimed as my own and cause pain to the family I love more dearly."
Darcy nodded and, still holding his wife's hands, turned back to those gathered.
"Lydia and Wickham will be allowed to remain, but only until the storm clears and only if their behavior remains benevolent," Darcy turned to his sister and then to James, "However I shall not have my sister and that cad under the same roof. James, please take her to Whitemore immediately and watch over her there," when Fitzwilliam began to protest, Darcy cut across him, "Geoffrey I need you here to help me monitor him. For the rest of you I bid you good night. I shall retire for I refuse to meet with that villain."
Giving his wife a last kiss, he exited the room but not before saying to Fitwilliam in a low growl, "Make sure he does not even look at Elizabeth longer than a few seconds."
Fitwilliam nodded gravely. It was all the assurance Darcy needed to signal his speedy departure to his rooms. Darcy was not one to normally abandon his duties to those around him, but he feared he would slay Wickham more than anything Wickham could do while in his home. He also gave explicit trust to his wife's steadfast and courageous character that possessed more than enough wit and cunning to keep someone as thick and rotten as Wickham in line. Therefore, when Darcy sought the solitude of their room it was with great confidence that when his wife joined him later that night she would probably pout about having to deal with Wickham and the two of them could have a good rant over him before falling asleep with laughter still in their ears.
Elizabeth was indeed rather annoyed with the arrangements. To accept him into her house with her irksome mother on her heels with an open invitation was an abhorring thought. She understood her husband's reluctance and wished to spare him further insult. It was bad enough that he had to be joined with him through his own marriage with her, but to have them paraded about his face was much too far to be graciously accepted. Thus Elizabeth took this responsibility without hesitation and was there, side by side with Colonel Fitwilliam, whose sword had reinstated itself upon his hip, to await the guests in the entrance hall, while the rest continued to wait in the foyer. She also saw young Georgiana off with a few words and a firm hug. She did not object to the removal at all, knowing that although she still kept the stacks of poetry she had written about him in a locked drawer, she could not forgive him for his actions. She was also rather abject to the idea of seeing her brother kill anyone in her name. She had already seen what he had done to his own cousin on April Fools Day and she shuddered to think what techniques her brother would use.
As Elizabeth had left the foyer her father had given her a few last words. "This storm cannot last long Lizzy."
She knew he was not only talking about the one taking place outside.
A servant, just polite enough to not scream for the pair's immediate removal, had their soaking overcoats taken down to be dried and their puddles to be taken care of. It was a hard task since Lydia took immediately to skipping about the place to remark on every single piece of furniture and decoration, praising all things Darcy. Wickham, already feeling the arrogance he had bore while living there resettled, stayed in one place and merely moved his head in a cursorily way, remarking to anyone who was about that Pemberly looked to be in disrepair since he had last seen it. Mrs. Reynolds was quick to assure him that the house had gone through several renovations that had rescued it from its past state of neglect that it had withstood.
Lydia had just squealed at the exquisitely expensive painting of the master and mistress of the house that hung on the landing at the top of the stairs when Mrs. Darcy entered herself. Lydia threw herself upon her sister with great vigor.
"Lord have you done well for yourself Lizzy! And to think my husband and I only sleep in a house half the size of your entryway."
"Such a exageration would normally be taken as a compliment, but I suppose my cousin, dear Mr. Collins, has spoiled that of me," was Elizabeth's sharp reply.
Lydia took no notice as she surveyed the man that accompanied her sister.
"Lizzy this does not look like the man you had married. Has this short time already done so much to him? What must the two of you be doing I wonder!"
Clearing his throat Wickham stepped forward in the hopes to end his wife's stupidity. "That is because that is not Fitzwilliam Darcy but his cousin, Geoffrey Fitzwilliam."
Lydia crinkled her nose in distaste. "Names in rich families are so droll! I swear they are made all the same just to confuse those of lower stature."
Elizabeth bore her sister's remarks as she had for the past sixteen years and simply nodded.
Wickham responded similarly and turned again to Fitzwilliam. "And how are you old dog? It has been a long time since we ganged up on young Darcy. Now those were the days. Since we are on that track, where is our old play mate? Should not the master of the house greet his guests?"
"Darcy saw fit to not waste his breath on such trifling foolish pleasantries and has retired," Fitzwilliam answered.
Wickham received this as gracefully as he could, but could not help gritting his teeth through his smile.
The two were showed into the foyer and Mrs. Bennet and Kitty bounded upon the two to share what gossip they had. Jane's child was then show cased to the newcomers who, for the benefit of those gathered, pretended to fawn over and adore. They were shown to their rooms, two whole floors below the master bedrooms, and the night grew quiet, the storm fading into the background.
Elizabeth, for lack of a better word, trudged into their bedroom and pretty much slammed the door behind her. Darcy rose from the bed to go to her, but she held up her hand to indicate he cease his movements.
"Was it…was it that bad?" he asked hesitantly.
Elizabeth made no reply other than a slight twitch below her eye.
Darcy winced inwardly and hurriedly shepherd her to the bed, patting her back gingerly.
"Now Elizabeth you know why I couldn't go down there, don't you?"
Again his inquiry was met with silence, but the infamous eyebrow that rose was answer enough.
Darcy sighed and tried to pull her towards him, but she remained stiff and unmoving. Truly hurt at his wife's reaction, Darcy turned her by the shoulders to face him. To his dismay she refused to meet his gaze and chose instead to turn her head downwards.
Giving her shoulders a squeeze, Darcy said seriously, "Elizabeth I promise to make this up to you. I swear this to you as earnestly as the day I made those vows on our wedding day."
Darcy stared at his wife searchingly, waiting for her to say something. When she still did not respond, Darcy allowed his hands to leave her shoulders and his eyes to also drop. It was then that he felt a disturbance. His gaze refocused immediately upon his wife, whose shoulders began to shake. Thinking them tears, Darcy put out a hand to comfort her, but Elizabeth rocketed out of the bed and went prancing about the room and laughing heardily. Darcy observed her in blank confusion and bewilderment at the sudden change in mood. His hand still unwittingly hovered in mid air as he watched her whoop in the most unladylike manner.
Finally spent of her euphoric moment, she let herself fall back onto the bed beside a still utterly incomprehensive Darcy. Upon seeing his face, she went into a last fit of giggles before dissolving into heavy breathing from her exertion. When she had finally calmed down sufficiently she gave Darcy what could possibly have been the most wicked smile witnessed by mankind.
"You must entertain Mr. Collins when he next comes to visit."
Darcy's eyes widened considerably at this.
"I certainly will not!" he exclaimed, his voice reaching almost to a falcetto. "I have many…important…manly…business to attend to."
"And these things are all much more significant than your wedding vows?" Elizabeth snapped.
"No, that is not what I am saying--"
"Then why did you say it in such a way?"
Darcy had no chance for his retort when Elizabeth decidedly smothered him with a pillow. Flailing Darcy took hold of her and the two were dragged down over the side of the bed. Fortunately their scirmage had already rendered much of the bed sheets already to the floor and thus their fall was cushioned. After several minutes of scuffling, jibes, and feigned insult the two somehow ended up underneath the bed entirely with Elizabeth laying on top of her husband and riding the rise and fall his chest as he heaved for breath. Only one corner of the bed sheet lay on the actual bed, accompanied by a solitary pillow. As the two winded down, more urgent matters were once again addressed.
"Darcy, you aren't going to avoid him during this entire stay are you?"
Darcy shook his head. "Of course not. That would be a sign of weakness. Your sister is right. It is time to move on. I shall face him."
Elizabeth gave him a swift kiss. "I expected no less of you and I have no doubt you shall be the victor."
Darcy only gave a smile, and a curious one at that. Elizabeth could not quite pinpoint its meaning or what had set it upon his face. Darcy then surveyed their position with a frown.
"Shall we perhaps return to our proper bedding place?"
"No, I do not think so. I am quite content right here. You make a sufficient mattress and you are quite warm, so blankets are not even required."
He wrapped an arm about his wife and gave that same smile that had adorned his face but a few moments before.
"As you wish my love."
That smile was indeed hard to recognize because it was something much more than a mere facial expression. It was an inner joy that came from within his heart and pulled into physical expression so that others can see and wonder and without knowing it, will then pass on to them. If nothing else, then the nature of that smile must be a universal truth for just as Elizabeth fell into the depths of sleep, her lips were turned upward into a smile.