Chapter 6:

Mr. Darcy woke up feeling better than he had in days, to his surprise but utter delight, his Elizabeth was snuggled against him, her eyes closed in what seemed a very restful sleep. He felt her tossing and turning the previous night and he could only hope that now that she was close to him, he had somehow calmed her and made her feel safe.

He felt so impotent as man. Here was his beautiful wife, who had cared for him with such dedication and had even endangered her own health. There was more that she was not sharing with him, he could see it in her intelligent brown eyes, something about them drew him in, he could see her thinking with each word that she said, calculating what she was saying and what she was not. But he knew that behind that was a real concern for him, he knew that she was worried about his own memory.

Ah, his memory. It was slowly coming back. Each second another image came to mind, muddled, without a connection, but present and vibrant. A young girl with blond curls, a sweet smile, a large home surrounded with the most beautiful trees, a smell of roses, a garden with a dial, and a dance with Elizabeth. The last image left him feeling frustrated, something about that dance had marked him and though he knew he cared for her, at that moment he felt anger. What could it have been? Was it the dance at their wedding? The first time they had danced? He did not know. And how he wished he knew it all! He kept saying the things that he knew and felt real in order to feel like a person: Fitzwilliam. Darcy. Elizabeth. That had to be enough for now.

He felt her stir next to him and saw her chocolate brown eyes open slowly, lovingly gazing at him, they then widened with fear or perhaps embarrassment.

"Oh, Mr. Darcy!" said Lizzie, reddening and pulling away from him. She was sleeping in his arms! No wonder she had felt so safe and warm in her dream—here he was, protecting her, calming her, soothing her. Oh goodness! She could feel her cheeks burning with embarrassment and perhaps something more.

"Elizabeth" said Mr. Darcy with a smile, a smile that she had seen only a number of times and it always made his features seem, if possible, even more handsome. "It is quite alright, I am your husband, my dear" he said lovingly, stroking her arm with his fingers. She melted at his touch, the way his fingers softly touched the bareness of her skin. How could she enjoy this? They were not even married!

Lizzie forced a smile, overcome with guilt and nodded quietly, dreading the moment when he would find out that she had lied to him. But in her guilt she had decided she had done the right thing—knowing they were not married would only complicate their already complicated predicament. And once they were in Derbyshire, she would tell him the truth. She kept repeating herself that, as if somehow it made it all better.

"Are you hungry?" asked Lizzy, sitting up, eager to put some space in between them.

"Is this how it always is, you taking care of me?" teased Mr. Darcy.

"I do not know" said Lizzy with a chuckle, loving this side of him. Mr. Darcy, teasing? Was this only because of his amnesia or did he always have this humor and she never noticed? What else did she never note about him? Because she was starting to think he was...no, she could not think of him like that.

Mr. Darcy looked at her questioningly.

"What do you mean you do not know?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, we have only been married for a short time" she explained quickly, feeling nervous for being caught in a lie.

"When did we get married?" he asked, likewise sitting up. They were both sitting on the bed, Mr. Darcy looking at Lizzy with a relaxed smile, Elizabeth feeling the room closing in on her.

"It was very sudden" said Lizzy, giving him a girlish smile. "You proposed, not very long ago and I said no, and then we...we ended up in Scotland."

"I see" he said, nodding his head, "Actually, I do not see" he said, cracking a smile, "But perhaps you could explain. Where did we get married?"

"Gretna Green" said Lizzy, thinking quickly. "It was right before your...your fall."

"Indeed" said Mr. Darcy, trying to tie the puzzle together. "None of that seems to stir any other memories" he said with a shrug. "Where did we go after the wedding?"

"Oh" said Lizzy, reddening, thinking she knew what he was asking, "We did not go anywhere, not really, well, you see, Mr. Darcy...I mean, my apologies, Fitzwilliam, you fell and then I took you to the doctor. I think we should discuss this later, I promise I shall answer all of your questions...one day, but we must figure out a way to get back to England."

Mr. Darcy smiled at her and then did the most natural thing that he felt like doing, he reached for her and held her in his arms.

"I am sorry my questions have troubled you" he said sweetly, kissing the top of her head. He reached down and with his thumb, softly lifted her face to look at him and she could see the love in his eyes, "I trust you completely." That was Lizzy's undoing and unable to stare at his eyes any longer, she gave him a weak smile and buried her face in his chest.

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Lizzy felt for certain that they needed to leave England as soon as possible. She looked around their small room and there was nothing to take with them. As soon as Miss Murphy found them a way home, it would take them a very short time to be ready. Mr. Darcy was already healing. They had spent the morning reading, Lizzy had found a book in the room and always fond of reading, decided to lose herself in the pages. Mr. Darcy enjoyed having her read out loud, for his head began hurting when he read now, and enjoyed hearing anything with the sound of her voice.

Lizzy made it a point to not sit on the bed with him again. After that morning's warm embrace, which memory still brought a flush to her cheeks, she would not risk getting any closer. How could she feel so comfortable around him when she had promised to loath him? And worse still, he thought they were married!

After each a small cold lunch, Lizzy went to help Mrs. Murphy who asked her to please go to the market and buy some items she needed. Lizzy thought it was most prudent to stay indoors for she did not wish to be found by those men but she likewise did not want to be ungracious and so after notifying Mr. Darcy that she would be gone for a few hours, she borrowed a coat and went outside.

Oh, how marvelous it was to be outside! She had not taken a walk in days and though she knew she ought to have made an excuse, the lure of fresh air and stretching her legs was too tempting, and she did not want to offend their gracious host. It seemed that these days she always had a perfect rationale for a not so smart decision.

There had been a few clouds overcast so Mrs. Murphy insisted on Lizzy taking an umbrella, which she gratefully accepted. Lizzy was not averse to getting wet but there was no point tempting the devil and catching a cold. Even something trifle as a cold was not a welcoming aspect at the moment.

Lizzy wondered in the market, grabbing the potatoes and cabbage that Mrs. Murphy had requested. She had never bartered for goods before, that was a job left for servants, but she rather enjoyed this outing. She though, with a wry smile, she would enjoy this type of life. Living in a small room with Mr. Darcy, running errands for Mrs. Murphy, perhaps taking a family stroll in the village…

Silly girl, thought Lizzy to herself with a smile. She counted her coins, put them back in the pouch, and feeling accomplished with her mission, decided to set back immediately. She turned around the corner, eager to take the fastest route home when she saw a striking man right up ahead, staring at her.

"Mr. Wickham!" she said, feeling her knees almost fail her. Last time they had seen each other was in Meryton, before she went to Hunsford. Though it felt like an eternity ago, it had only been a month or so, and he looked as handsome as she remembered him. But what was he doing here? And why, or was it her imagination, did he look rather pleased to her?

"Miss Bennet" said Mr. Wickham, his voice guarded but she thought she saw a glint in his eyes.

"I..." said Lizzy, fidgeting with her umbrella, "I could ask you the same thing" she said, recomposing herself and answering with a charming smile. "Is the militia here?" she asked nonchalantly, somehow feeling that she needed to put space in between them, while at the same time knowing that he must not realize her hesitation. They had left as friends and truthfully neither of them had a reason to think they were anything but.

"No" he said, flashing a smile. He took another step towards her, not wanting to seem too eager but very pleased indeed to have found her. This would be easier than he thought. "The militia did not suit me."

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that" she said, keeping her smile neutral and calm. Why was she suddenly so nervous? "Oh, Mr. Wickham, though it is lovely to see you, I must get back, I promised to be back and would not want to be late. Have a good day!" she said, already walking away. Mr. Wickham gave her a sly smile, nodded and kept his eyes on her as she turned around and began walking down the street.

"Send my regards to Mr. Darcy" he said in a whisper that he was sure she heard.

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