Chapter 10:

Mr. Darcy woke up early the next morning, unaware of how many hours he had slept for. It must have been for over twelve hours but his body clearly needed it. He had not slept that well in days and he turned to his side and saw Elizabeth was still soundly sleeping—clearly her body still needed more rest. He leaned in and softly kissed the temple of her forehead, not wanting to wake her but not being able to help himself when she looked so lovely beside him. Even with the danger they had faced and to a certain extent still faced, he could not imagine that marriage could be so…wonderful.

He went into the dressing room where after washing up, his valet came in and helped him dress, happy to see his master back again. Mr. Darcy knew his valet was discreet and had arrived at Pemberley soon after he had left, letting Mrs. Reynolds know that Mr. Darcy would arrive in due time. Mr. Darcy had no reason to suppose that his disappearance was a known fact, nor Elizabeth's. He still did not quite understand the timeline of their disappearance and their marriage—how did each one come to be? He knew Elizabeth had withheld information back in Scotland, presumably out of fear for his well-being, and he knew that she really wanted to talk. He could only assume that she wanted to tell him more of what happened. Mr. Darcy was not usually a patient man and could at times be impulsive, but he saw how tired she was, her eyes looking heavy and worn, that he knew she needed to first sleep, everything else could wait.

He went down to the small dining room, where the family break fast was usually had, his feet leading the way, knowing exactly where to go even if he was not clearly sure. He had learned to trust his instincts and nothing felt more natural than being in Pemberley, knowing every crack and nook, even with his eyes closed.

"Darcy!" said Richard, already sitting down and helping himself to a generous portion of eggs, biscuits, and jam. "I trust you slept well?"

"Very well" said Mr. Darcy, serving himself and sitting down beside his cousin. "Did you sleep?"

"Not at all" said Richard with a smile, "Who did you think was patrolling this large estate at night? If only you owned a smaller home, I might have been able to get some rest" he teased. Mr. Darcy cracked a smile.

"Did you speak to Elizabeth?" asked Richard timidly, as he was spreading the jam on his biscuit.

"Cousin Elizabeth" corrected Mr. Darcy dryly. "And no, she was very tired. I insisted she rest. And are you going to ask me questions about my marital bed as well? Anything else you'd like to know."

"No, thank you" said Richard with a smile, "I just think it is important that you two talk."

"I never knew you were the one to give marital advice Richard" said Mr. Darcy, not liking his cousin's interference.

"What I mean to say is that you both need to clarify what happened in Scotland—" began Richard, but before he could say more, they were interrupted by a footman who came with a note for the Colonel. He handed it to him, bowed, and had barely left the room when the Colonel had finished reading the note with haste, stood up suddenly and was already walking.

"Richard!" said Mr. Darcy, standing as well and looking concerned.

"My man is back. He knows where Wickham is, I must go at once. I think you should stay" said Richard, looking back at Darcy and knowing that he was still not fully himself.

"No" said Mr. Darcy in a tone that implied that it was not up for discussion. "Allow me to write a quick note to Elizabeth and we'll be off within minutes."

Richard nodded, his frown indicating that he not agreed, but that he would not push further. He was always his cousin's inferior and though he loved his cousin, it was a position he hated and it is why he loved being in the military. He was his own person and a commandant whom others respected.

"Richard, I know you care for me" said Mr. Darcy, placing his hand on his cousin's shoulder, "But I must see to it that Wickham is dead. I made the mistake before, I shall not make the mistake again."

"I know" said Richard, giving him a weak smile. "Let us make haste." Mr. Darcy asked the footman to bring a piece of paper and his pen, he quickly scribbled a hasty note to Elizabeth, and by the time Elizabeth had woken, the men were gone.

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Lizzy opened her eyes, taking a few moments for them to adjust and for her to recognize where she was. Her hand unconsciously reached for the side next to her, expecting Mr. Darcy to be there, but he was not. He must have woken already.

Lizzy did not know the time but the sun was fully out—though the dark blue velvet curtains were closed, she could feel the sun emanated from outside, warming up the room that she currently occupied. She must have slept for an entire day! It was still light outside when they went to sleep the previous night and she could not recall a more needed nor restful sleep. She did not even dream—her body simply drifted off into sleep, the exhaustion from the previous week sinking her into a deep slumber.

Lizzy sat up on the bed, reached for her robe and called for the maid. She wrapped the robe around her slim figure and opened one of the curtains, once again overwhelmed by the beauty of Pemberley. She could not wait to take a walk on these parks and get lost in the beauty of nature, her eyes were looking around, perhaps hoping to see Mr. Darcy's now familiar body walking around. But he was nowhere to be seen.

Lizzy went to the washroom, where she enjoyed another warm bath, a luxury she could only hope and dream she could get used to, but after being on the road for so long, it was a luxury she did not object to. After washing, dressing, and donning on her cap, the maid brought her a breakfast tray for married women almost always breakfasted in bed. That was not a custom that Mrs. Bennet had adhered to, perhaps because they did not live in this luxury, but Lizzie welcomed the silent breakfast, a chance to practice the monologue that had been running in her head since they arrived at Pemberley. She had decided to take her breakfast in her own chambers, thinking that being in Mr. Darcy's was too painful and too raw. She could not think on how to approach him when her head was too full of him and everything in that room reminded her of him. The room smelled just like him, a smell that she was now too used to and was not sure she could ever forget.

"Mr. Darcy" is how the monologue began, for it would show a boundary, a separation between that would hint at what is coming, "I know you think we are married but we are not."

No, thought Lizzy wryly, that was not the way to begin. Perhaps if I pen a letter, it might be easier. Lizzy decided to ask for some paper and a pen and perhaps then, she would be able to decide how to best break the news that they were not married, she was utterly compromised, possibly in love with him, and that she had done so to save his life.

He loves me, she kept telling herself, he will understand. But somehow, deep down, she knew that he would not quite understand. Mr. Darcy loved being in control and to see him duped, she did not really know him that well to know how he would react. Would he then propose marriage? She knew he was a gentleman, but would he resent her? She knew he had wanted to marry her but it is a different thing altogether to want something and then to be forced to it.

The maid walked in with writing material and handed the mistress a note. Lizzy raised an eyebrow in question.

"It is from the master, ma'am" she said in a quite voice, curtsying and leaving the room.

Lizzie opened it hesitantly and then raised her hand to cover her mouth in shock.

We have found Wickham's whereabouts. Richard and I left this morning. We shall be back as soon as possible. Stay indoors.

Yours,

FD

Lizzie allowed her body to sink into the chair, forgetting the proper posture that she was always used to having. A knock on the door surprised her—perhaps he was back already?

"You have a visitor, ma'am" said the maid, again timidly and avoiding making eye contact.

"A visitor?" asked Lizzy, completely surprised. She felt her heart race, who would call on her? And who knew that she was here? "Who is it?"

"Lady Catherine de Bourgh" said the maid, her lips trembling.

Lizzy did not know the grand lady very well but she knew one thing, whatever this visit was, it was not good news.

"I shall be down shortly" said Lizzy, giving the scared maid a warm smile. Lizzy stood up, looked at herself in the mirror, fixed her cap, a sign of being now a married lady, and trenched on. She did not know what Lady Catherine wanted but Lizzy knew that her courage would never fail her, not when she needed it the most.

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