Disclaimer: Jane Austen works do NOT belong to me. I am not (unfortunately) making tons of money from this.

A/N:

Thank you to all my wonderful and inspiring reviewers. I'm sorry this took me so long – violin exam this Sunday… :S :S :S

Kyra3: Misery… wOOt!

Emma: But this is to go overseas. And he's got a (very) young daughter who wouldn't be able to go to Venice on account of the fact that she could get sick and die. But it's a good point… and if I were writing a cheerfuller (my word) story, I would let Darcy go with her. But for the purposes of the story… :D

FutureFamousMovieDirector: Mwahahahaha… SUSPENSE IS GOOD…. :D:D along with depression… hey, have I said that before? Lol. Thanks! I'll try to update faster.

The Proud And Prejudiced One: tear comes magically to eye Hehe… I'm on a high. But that doesn't mean that this chapter will be HAPPY. Mwahaha… Thank you:D

Tigger101: Yes! wOOt! Hm… I can't be bothered opening his picture, and besides, you've gotten over him… haven't you? I like Darcy! Will is too modern. :P Cool! Thanks!

bobmcbobbob1: Gack… such a cool word:D lol. Okay… I'll do my best. :P Thank you!

ionalama: hehe… I'm evil, aren't I… I'll feature Annabelle more in this chapter. Or at least try. :P I disagree! Depression is FANTASTIC! Lol.

forgotten-kiss: I'm not exactly sure… but it'll come to me… eventually. Lol… not many people are… :P Mwahahaha… Venice is OVERSEAS! (I protest) it's a lot further than Hertfordshire is:P Hehe…

Nautica7mk: Thank you! Sorry it took so long to update!

Percyismine: I know… he gets even lonelier and sadder in this chapter! Yay! Makes non-committal grunt. :P SUSPENSE:D:D I know… I like reading fluff too… but I've never tried to write fluff properly before… should probably expand my horizons… cliché, I know… :P

cancat91: Mwahahaha… he doesn't get the chance anymore! (whoops, spoiler) You didn't just hear that… you didn't just hear that… did you just hear that? No, you didn't. :D Anyway, as above, non-committal grunt. :D:D:D

Chapter 3: The Years Grow Long

Annabelle ran across the lawn, her aunt walking sedately behind her. From the window in the study, Darcy watched her progress silently. Restlessly, he turned back to his papers.

Five years. Five long years.

He reread the letter one more time.

"Mr. Darcy –

We are sorry to inform you that Mrs. Darcy is no better. However, we wish to congratulate you on the birth of your son…"

He had received it four years ago. Now, he didn't even know where Lizzy was. He knew she was in Venice, but beyond that, she had disappeared.

"Mr. Darcy –

We are pleased to inform you that Mrs. Darcy has made a shaky recovery and may return to England soon."

Darcy had been elated at the news. He spoke more, and talked to Annabelle about her mother. He hadn't shown her the paintings of Elizabeth though. They were a secret that he had to keep a while longer. Then the next letter arrived.

"Mr. Darcy –

Your wife has disappeared. She was feeling better, and wished to take a walk. The nurse that accompanied her was distracted, and the next moment, Mrs. Darcy had disappeared. We are doing all we can to find her. We offer our sincerest apologies…."

It was that last letter that had reduced Darcy to the shell of the man he was now. These five years had been a strain to him, and though he looked as he did five years ago, a permanently worried look had appeared in his eyes, and Annabelle found him a strict and restrictive father.

Darcy put the letters away, and locked the drawer. He didn't need to relive this again. Once had been enough.

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Annabelle was a fine sturdy child. She had chocolate eyes and light brown hair. She was exactly what Lizzy, during her early months of pregnancy, had wished her to be.

"Aunt Georgiana!" She called back to her quiet aunt. "Is Father home yet?" Her aunt replied, but her answer was lost in the wind. Annabelle ran back to her, and repeated her question.

"He's been home all afternoon, Annabelle." Georgiana gently tousled the girl's hair. Annabelle stopped, a small frown forming on her face.

"What's the matter?" Georgiana asked. Annabelle took her time to answer.

"I don't like Father." Georgiana looked taken-aback, and Annabelle hastened to correct her implications.

"I love Father, of course I do! But he doesn't play with me. Cousin Susan's father, Uncle Charles, plays with them all the time. All my father does is sit in his study." She folded her arms and pouted, the very picture of petulance. Georgiana fought back a smile. Sitting down on a nearby bench, she reached out and drew the child to her.

"Your father is a very busy man."

"I know! Susan says he's very rich, so he's very important. But I don't see how that matters." This time Georgiana did laugh.

"Your father loves you very much. He's just busy. And I wouldn't listen to what Susan tells you, if I were you."

"But she's older than me. And you tell me to respect my elders." Another peal of Georgiana's soft laughter rang through the air.

"Yes… but… you don't have to believe what Susan tells you…" She broke off. "Dear, let's go back to the house. Your father may wish to see you."

"Father never looks happy to see me." Annabelle grumbled, but she let Georgiana take her firmly by the hand and lead her off.

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"Annabelle. Georgiana.' Darcy acknowledged the two as they entered the sitting room.

"Fitzwilliam." Georgiana smiled weakly. Annabelle broke free of her aunt's clutches, and rushed across the room to her father.

"Father!" She squealed, flinging her arms around him. Darcy looked unsure whether to hug her back, or push her away. He compromised by picking up a book from the table. Annabelle sat next to him.

"What are you reading, Father?" She asked curiously.

"A book."

"Why is it upside-down?" Darcy looked at the page. So it was.

"I like reading books upside-down." He replied stiffly. To his surprise, Annabelle laughed, and leaned against him. The little girl snuggled up closer.

"I like you, Father. You may not be fun, but you are funny."

Darcy placed his arm around her. As he did so it dawned upon him that he still had a part of Lizzy in this child.

This miracle child.

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