GREEN

"Mrs. Darcy, you are looking exceedingly handsome this morning."

"You look absolutely terrible, Mr. Darcy – but I love you anyway."

Elizabeth Darcy looked carefully at her husband, wondering how much of his memory may have been recovered overnight. Waking up next to him after her surprising declaration of love the previous night was a strange and frightening experience. He was not already cursing at her, so it seemed that she was not to have the 'Bad Darcy' that day; but she had been through too many ups and downs to feel confident and secure.

She wondered at her complete lack of embarrassment. She would bet her last farthing that her position in bed with her husband in nothing but her shift had already been witnessed by at least Mr. Bates, Mr. Longman, Mrs. Weston and probably Noah and Molly, but she curiously found herself feeling no trepidation at all. She was his wife and he was her husband. That was all there was to it. There was not the slightest thing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about.

Of course, when they finally made it a true marriage, she might not be quite so sanguine about having people traipsing through the bedroom; but since everyone in the house knew that attempting marital relations would probably kill her husband, she reckoned that such things were an embarrassment that could be deferred until another day.

Darcy said, "You told me that last night, and I must confess I wanted to jump up and skip around the room. I refrained for obvious reasons."

Elizabeth found herself giggling far out of proportion to the jest, and her husband chuckled along with her. That triggered a small bout of coughing, but it was not too awfully terrible. Elizabeth kissed him on the forehead, not willing yet to brave either his lips or his near-lethal breath. "Let me get you some water."

With that, she slowly climbed out of the bed, regretting the loss of heat almost immediately. Her husband's eyes followed her with a small smile on her face, and she wondered why she was not shyer. No man had ever seen her in her shift before. As a matter of fact, she was not even certain three of her five sisters had, but for some reason she was not bothered in the least.

Carefully replacing the blanket against the chill, she quickly donned her practical maid's dress, and found her husband looking disappointed. She chose not to think about that look overly much, and simply helped him up to a pillow, so she could feed him some water, saying, "You should try to not talk too much."

He looked slightly chagrinned. "I should not speak at all if I plan to say some of the vile things I have said before."

Since he was not coughing, and she did not know exactly how to respond; Elizabeth went to the fire to see if the broth was still warm. It seemed obvious that someone had been in the room since all was as it should be, the broth was fresh, and there was also fresh porridge. Deciding the porridge was probably better for her husband's recovery, she ladled out a bowel, added some milk from a jug on the shelf, and brought it back to the bed.

All the activity had given her a chance to get her wits around her, so she asked, "How much do you remember? Are you aware that your memories and wits have come and gone? Take your time answering. You need sustenance, but we do not want to overly stress either your voice or your stomach. We have time."

Thus instructed, she took the spoon and started feeding him like a baby. It was not the first time she had done so, but hoped she was circling in on it being the last. It was not that she minded providing the service, but she really wanted her husband back; now that it seemed likely she could tolerate him for a day without murdering him.

He said, "I remember last night's conversation. You said you love me, but you are not certain I love you. How is that possible?"

She fed him some more porridge. "I find the heart seems to have a mind of its own. I cannot rightly explain it. One day I hated you. A few days later, I respected you. Sometime later I liked you. Perhaps it is just the natural progression of things."

He took the food. "The worst part of having missing memories and muddled thinking, which I easily acknowledge to be the case, is that I cannot know with any certainty. I remember some of the awful things I said over the last few weeks, but I firmly believe that I was well in love with you long before I was willing to admit it."

Confused, Elizabeth said, "Please explain that."

Darcy sighed, and took a few more bites of porridge before pushing the bowl away. "How long have we known each other – I mean, how long have we actually been in company?"

"Do you remember the outlines of why we wed?"

"Yes, we were compromised, and I was mightily unhappy about it – although later I believe I came to the conclusion it was the best thing that ever happened to me."

Elizabeth blushed in embarrassment, although whether she was mortified about her mother's scheming or her husband's assertion of the benefits of the action, she was unwilling to think about. Instead, she decided to answer his question.

"We were in company once or twice per week for six weeks in the Autumn. We spent four days in the same house, meeting in company for perhaps an hour each day. We danced once at a ball your friend Mr. Bingley threw and quarreled. The compromise sent you away, and we had a one-month betrothal that was –"

She faded out, not really wanting to tell him how badly she had wanted to avoid the entanglement.

He surprised her by gently taking her hand. "I remember you telling me how hard you tried to avoid chaining yourself to such a beast. That is why I find it somewhat fantastical that you could be in love with me now. I acutely remember a lot of things I did wrong, but not enough right to compensate."

He thought a moment, and continued, "Some say love and hate are two sides of the same coin."

She chuckled. "Some say all sorts of silly things, but I suppose there may be kernel of truth. Some say the opposite of live is not hate, it's indifference."

He chuckled along with her. "There is nothing silly about love. Perhaps …" and then he paused for some time in thought.

"I think I remember many parts of our acquaintance, but not in order. In my mind, it seems to be ordered more or less by reprehensibility. I remember calling you not handsome enough to dance with, and my pathetic excuse for a proposal. I remember saying I'd as soon call you a beauty as call your mother a wit. I remember not even allowing you to defend yourself when I negotiated our marriage with your father. I remember – so many things."

He startled, looking up to see if he had confessed some unknown sin.

Elizabeth took pity on him. "I already know all that. I can match you insult for insult. I called you proud and intolerant. I believe I said you were the last man in the world I should be prevailed on to marry," then she paused a moment in embarrassment, and added, "I even threatened to break my vows and leave you."

Darcy sighed. "I would say my memory is recovered enough, because I remember all that and more as if it happened yesterday."

Elizabeth sighed. "What else do you remember?"

Darcy thought about it long enough that Elizabeth thought he might well have fallen back asleep, and finally said, "It will sound silly, but I will say it anyway."

He paused a bit. "I was intoxicated by the first sight of you. I was in a bad humor. My head was pounding in pain and I felt like I was being hunted by wolves. In the midst of all that, you seemed a breath of fresh air, something new, something fascinating, something different. It was not the first time Bingley pressed me to dance. He seems incapable of believing everyone does not enjoy it like he does; but it was the first time I thought he might actually be throwing me into danger."

Elizabeth's eyes were round as saucers as he continued, "I think I spent the entire six weeks trying to talk myself out of my infatuation. When the compromise happened, I think I immediately jumped to thinking the very worst of you because –"

He seemed to retreat into himself, mumbling and thinking, before finally continuing. "I always feared an unequal match. I sometimes thought I should go around disguised as a much humbler man to see if I could find someone who loved me, not my fortune. When your mother did her …"

He paused further, and finally croaked out, "… despicable act, I thought I had done the stupidest thing possible – fallen in love with a fortune hunter. It was …"

More introspection went on, before he finally said, "… it was humiliating. I effectively went to war with both you and myself. It was a confusing time, piled on top of my entire family conspiring to make my life miserable."

Elizabeth found herself smiling far too much for such a violent story. "Welcome to my whole life. That was my exact thought about my family at the Netherfield ball. The worst part was that nobody was acting out of the ordinary. Jane's vacuousness, Mary's bad playing, Kitty and Lydia's flirting, my mother's caterwauling, and father's vindictiveness. All those were a perfectly ordinary night for the Bennets. Anyone could see that my family is ridiculous."

Darcy chuckled. "It sounds like we should start our own family."

Elizabeth laughed. "All in good time, husband – all in good time. Back to your war on yourself. What happened when you finally called a truce?"

He looked at her carefully. "If memory serves me correctly, and I believe it does, I fell in love with you and hoped with all my might that you might eventually reciprocate. I had a difficult time admitting it even to myself, but I do believe I was in love with you before all my senses were scrambled by my illness; but I did not have the courage to admit it. I am not in the least doubt as to my feelings now. I love you with a breathless intensity that is overwhelming. It is as if the worst part of my death would not be missing the rest of my life; it would be going out without making you aware of just how intense and deep my love goes."

Elizabeth found herself smiling hugely, holding both of his hands in hers, without any recollection of how they got there, complete lost in the feeling of love that descended on her like a warm blanket on a cold night.

She smiled. "So, in the end, we are in love with each other."

"It would appear so," he said, with what could easily pass for an impertinent smirk for any less serious man, which made his wife giggle like a schoolgirl.

She laughed a moment. "Move over."

He seemed to be recovering faster than expected, because he managed to move himself to the side of the bed just in time for her to slide in beside him, and she then pulled his head over to her bosom. He was asleep almost instantly, and much to her surprise, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy followed him into slumber a few minutes later.


"Elizabeth, I need Bates or Longman."

Mrs. Darcy snapped out of her slumber and noticed the sun was well up. She looked at her husband and could see he was physically distressed – hardly a surprising occurrence after his first solid meal in some time.

She quickly jumped out of bed, rang the bell that Longman affectionately called the 'mule caller', and then quickly donned her dress.

Both men showed up with enough alacrity to prove that they had obviously been playing backgammon in the nursemaid's quarters, a dozen yards from where she was sleeping.

Elizabeth leaned over to give him a kiss on the forehead. "He seems to have recovered many of his memories. Perhaps you can drag him down to the stables and sluice him down with a few buckets of water, or call for a bath if that is more convenient," and then with a happy skip she had not felt for ages, she departed to take care of her own bath and change of clothes. She doubted she had slept more than a few hours, but she felt as if the whole world was laid at her feet.

For the first time in quite some time, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy was completely happy in the moment. She wanted for nothing and had not a single cause to repine. She loved her husband with a fierce intensity that completely surprised her with the lightning speed it had attached itself to her heart; and her husband loved her similarly. Her husband showed all signs of a full recovery. What more could she possibly want?

She found that the house's gossip mechanism was apparently fully activated, because every maid or footman she passed on the way to her own apartment was skipping along happily, nodding in greeting with a cheerfulness she would find oppressing at any other time. She found Molly preparing a bath, with Noah and a few more footmen carrying buckets in that must have been kept warm for some time. She knew everybody in the house had a good idea of where she had spent her evening but was not embarrassed in the least. She thought they could put a notice in the tittle-tattle section of the Times – 'Mrs. D. spent a scandalous night alongside her half-dead husband, Mr. D.' and she would have been content.

With a sigh, she sank into the bath, reveling in the luxury, and promptly fell asleep once again, beginning to pay down the debt her body owed to three months of sleeplessness and anxiety.


Feeling rested and refreshed, Mrs. Darcy returned to the nursery to see her husband sleeping like a baby. She felt the greatest feeling of relief she had ever felt, and she felt a rush of tender feelings she thought she would probably have reserved for a real child. His pallor had already improved, his breathing was free and easy, and she would swear she saw either a smile or a smirk on his face in his sleep.

She smiled at the two men she saw who had switched to chess and were engaged in an apparently ferocious battle. "Mr. Longman, Mr. Bates, how goes the battle."

"If you mean the battle against Typhus, I believe we are winning, Mrs. Darcy. If you mean this game, I believe the coup de grâce is soon to be delivered," Longman said.

Elizabeth looked carefully at the board, and asked, "Can you speculate on which of you will be the deliverer of said victory, and who the vanquished?"

They chuckled, and Bates said, "That remains to be seen, ma'am."

She laughed. "I think I might consider taking Omega out for an hour once the game is finished, Mr. Longman. There is no hurry."

Longman just grunted, which was about what Mrs. Darcy expected at that stage of the game, so she just smiled and went to see if she could get any sensible conversation out of Mrs. Longman.


Mr. Darcy was awake when Mrs. Darcy breezed into his room, still somewhat excited and windblown from her ride in the park. At that time of day, Hyde Park was far too crowded for a proper run, but Longman had found some woods only a couple of miles away on a large private estate that did the job nicely. He had obtained permission, and Mrs. Darcy had enjoyed her communion with her horse immensely.

Darcy looked up. "You certainly look enchanting, Mrs. Darcy. Had I known that effect was possible, I might have sent Longman and Omega to your father last summer and saved us both quite a lot of time and effort."

She laughed. "Do not forget consternation."

He chuckled, but then became a little bit sad and said, "Yes – we cannot forget –"

"Stop it!" she said, and then to take the sting off, she added, "our trials have tempered us, Fitzwilliam. They are to be applauded, not regretted."

"Still, had I been able to come to this happy place with less unhappiness for you, I would have done so gladly."

Elizabeth sighed. "You may as well wish you could be a good swordsman or rider without practicing or get a baby without pregnancy. We not only must take the bad with the good, but in some ways, I think the bad is sometimes required to get to the good. How can we truly appreciate the good without the bad to measure against?"

Darcy looked at her intently. "An admirable philosophy, which I believe we should adopt immediately. I am presently experiencing consternation that you are on that side of the room, while I am on this side, and looking forward to measuring the good when you are safely in my arms –"

With a laugh, Elizabeth ran across the room, and jumped on the bed. She was still in her riding habit, and laying on top of the blankets no less, but she did manage to face her husband. Careful examination showed he had managed to brush his teeth, and so she lost no time in wrapping her hands carefully behind his head and pulling him towards her for a kiss.

The kiss was soft and sweet, with not the slightest hint of the passion she knew was bubbling just below the surface. She wondered at her feelings, as they fumblingly explored what could be done with lips, and perhaps the occasional bit of fingers moving here and there. In some ways, she was still feeling like it would be the easiest thing in the world to break her husband like a glass figurine, and in other ways, she felt the exact opposite, that in a standing contest with an oak tree he would prevail. She thought that feelings were likely to always be confused and contradictory, at least until they managed to get to an ordinary relationship of some kind.

After a few minutes, she gently laid his head down, and asked, "How do you feel?"

"Enchanted – absolutely enchanted."

She giggled, thinking she probably had to be more specific in her questioning, or better yet, just enjoy her time with her husband and leave the questions to Dr. Warren.

She heard the door from the nanny's quarters open, and then. "Excuse me, Mrs. Darcy."

She laughed. "I presume you are not becoming overly timid at this point, Mr. Bates?"

"No, ma'am. Just courteous. Longman suggested it was something I should try from time to time just for a change."

Elizabeth laughed, kissed her husband one more time, then rolled off the bead. "Shall we get this man shaved and presentable, Mr. Bates."

"I am right here," Darcy said somewhat grumpily.

Elizabeth smiled down at him. "Yes, you are, and I will take your wishes under advisement at my leisure."

It took both Elizabeth and Bates to get the man out of bed and standing. Once he was moving, they headed towards the corridor with his arms draped over both of their shoulders.

Elizabeth said, "I think we can probably move him back to his room in a few days but let us wait until he sleeps through the night a few times."

As they cleared the door, Elizabeth saw several of the household staff looking on, so she said, "You can quit frowning at me disapprovingly, Noah. You are welcome to take my place."

Noah joined her with a small laugh, and between the footman and the valet, they managed to move the master of the house to his own shaving chair in his quarters. He naturally fell asleep as soon as he arrived, and Dr. Warren asserted it would probably be a month before he could walk that far on his own power, but for the moment, everyone was overjoyed to see him coming back to his own life.


Shaved and dressed in loose clothing, Fitzwilliam Darcy entered the sitting room to share some tea with his wife. Elizabeth thought all his clothing would be loose for some time, considering he was nothing but skin and bones, but the effect was even greater when he was wearing very loose trousers and a shirt apparently made for lounging about the bedroom.

He was somewhat proud of himself for walking from the doorway to the sofa where he was to sit without assistance, though Bates had lent his shoulder from the dressing room to the sitting room door.

With a sigh, he sat down next to Elizabeth, who immediately set out to prepare him some tea. She asked how he was feeling before deciding exactly what to put in the tea, and eventually settled for only cream and sugar. She thought he would almost certainly fall asleep within a half-hour and be carried to bed by Longman and Bates, but she wanted this tiny little period of very few minutes of feeling almost normal and ordinary.

Once he sat down and surveyed the tea and biscuits, Darcy let out a great sigh. "This is the life."

Elizabeth smiled. "I can hardly wait to have you back hale and hearty. Managing Pemberley is far too much work. I am nostalgic for the days when managing to learn half of my accomplishments with half the usual quality counted for success."

"Do not discount your success, my dear. The measure of accomplishment for a gently bred lady is her ability to attract a good husband," he said with a chuckle.

She laughed. "There, you have made my case for me. I was striving for a good husband but ended up with you."

They laughed a few more times, and spent another quarter-hour going farther and farther into ridiculousness. Much as expected, it only took less than a half-hour for the gentleman to fall back asleep, but Elizabeth was happy to see him much livelier than she had any right to expect. It would seem that the danger was over, and she intended to have him read his letter the next day, and then grill him on his memories so they knew where to start with getting his mind back where it needed to be.

Elizabeth sat looking at her husband for a good quarter hour, just allowing love, and frankly, a feeling of relief to fill her heart when she heard a knock on the door.

Upon calling for entry, Mr. Jennings stepped in and asked, "Miss Bennet asks if she might see you, ma'am."

Surprised, Elizabeth fell back on impertinence and said, "You will have to be more specific, Mr. Jennings. I have four sisters."

Jennings looked embarrassed that he had made such a glaring error when Elizabeth heard. "La, Lizzy – are you going to talk to me or not."