Author's Note: I am so humbled and happy with all the reviews! The last chapter had more than any of the other chapters! I am glad you are enjoying it- even though it's suspenseful! This chapter takes us someplace different! I loved the ideas people had about taking her to Ramsgate or London, but I fear that is still too close for comfort. As a reminder, I'm following the scenes from the 2005 film simply because I find them so beautiful, so we will skip some events from the book. See the end notes for more commentary! Thank you!

"Where are we?" Elizabeth asked quietly. Darcy opened his eyes. They were on a small, grassy hill overlooking a lake. Beyond the lake was the grandest house Elizabeth had ever seen. Everything seemed alive with life as blackbirds chirped in the trees around them and every color seemed the most vibrant version of itself. The weather was much warmer than it was in his Hertfordshire memory. It was summer.

"Pemberley," he replied. The sound of water splashing reached them. Darcy let go of Elizabeth's hands as she walked towards the downward slope of the hill to obtain a better view. The entrance to the grand house was at the other end of the large lake. Darcy and Elizabeth observed the child causing the noise at the lake. The boy had dark hair and even from their distance, Elizabeth could see a resemblance. He held a makeshift fishing pole whose line he was launching enthusiastically into the lake.

"Is that you, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked with amusement.

"Yes. I think I am but ten or eleven years old here. I do not think of my childhood often, but this is the first thing that came to mind. It is well before I met you."

The young Darcy near the lake plunged the fishing pole into the dirt near him and sat down on the blanket laid near him, pulling out a book as he waited for a bite on his line.

Elizabeth sat down, admiring the view of the grounds. Darcy followed her lead, sitting closely to her. He smiled when she did not object to his closeness. The lake supplied a cool breeze against the warm summer sun. They were far enough away to not draw attention to themselves from the young Darcy, as he was now deeply engrossed in his book.

"It is beautiful here," Elizabeth said after a while, gazing over the lake. "I suppose I am seeing it through your rose-colored memories, though." she added, smiling.

"No. It truly is this beautiful. I wish you had the opportunity to visit," he said sadly.

"I can enjoy it now. How do you think we'll know if this is working?" she mused. Elizabeth curled herself up, wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees. The light summer breeze caused the loose curls framing her face to gently move. Darcy gazed at her for a long time before answering. He wanted to imprint this vision of her in his mind, to remember her here, on the grassy knolls of Pemberley, forever. When she turned to look at him for his response, he finally spoke.

"I do not know if we can be sure while I am still asleep. I guess I will know when I wake up," he said finally.

"You must come find me and tell me all about this. And you must tell Mr. Bingley about Jane's affection for him."

"You have my word."

In the distance, another young boy was approaching the lake. He had his own pole and was running rapidly through the grounds. Fitzwilliam looked up from his book as he heard him approach and waved.

"Who is that other little boy with you?"

"George Wickham," he said, sighing. "He's the son of my father's steward and my father's godson. We grew up together," Darcy grimaced. Elizabeth nodded. Darcy could not tell if she realized who he was, or if this Elizabeth had not met Wickham yet. He did not want to ask.

Fitzwilliam had abandoned his book on the ground as George reached into a bucket that was near him. They seemed to start bickering about the last of the worms they were using for bait.

"Why did you not bring your own, George?" Fitzwilliam asked. "There is not enough for you."

"I do not want to search for worms when you have plenty!" George grabbed a worm out of the bucket, and Fitzwilliam had snatched it back before George could successfully hook it into his line. "Mr. Darcy says you must share with me, Fitzwilliam." Fitzwilliam huffed in response and petulantly moved the bucket away from George.

George looked at him irritably, then suddenly reaching down to grab young Fitzwilliam's book. Before Fitzwilliam could stop him, George approached the side of the lake and dangled the book over the water. Fitzwilliam grasped at George, trying to snatch his book back while yelling for George to return it. Suddenly resigned, Fitzwilliam shoved George one final time as he stepped back. This caused George to trip backwards, letting go of the book as he used his hands to stop himself from falling into the lake. The force with which he let go of the book caused it to launch into the water. It landed, face up and open, with a forceful plop, much farther than either of them had anticipated.

"George!" Fitzwilliam yelled.

"I did not mean to do it!" George yelled back.

"But you did! That is Father's book! Go and get it!" Fitzwilliam replied.

George shook his head, "You are the one who shoved me!"

"Only because you took it to begin with! Why do you torment me so?"

"You are too easily annoyed, Fitz, it is easy to make sport out of you."

Nervously, Darcy watched the scene play out. When they had arrived, he was unsure of what memory this was exactly. He had spent many days in his childhood summers by the lake entertaining himself. His heart had tightened slightly as George appeared. Not because it was Wickham, but because he was beginning to understand which memory this was. He had locked it away in his mind for so long.

The boys watched as the book began to float farther and farther from them as they bickered. Seeing that reasoning would get him absolutely no where with George, and since ultimately the responsibility of the book rested on him, Fitzwilliam resolved to fix the situation himself.

"Fine." Fitzwilliam began to wade into the water, having to go deeper in than he had thought. He swam towards the middle of the lake, careful not to make too many waves. His hand grasped at the book, and he closed it in his hands as carefully as he could, raising it above his head as he swam back to the edge.

George watched with interest, and when Fitzwilliam reached the edge, he held out his hand to help him out. Fitzwilliam took it, then tried to shake out the excess water from the pages of the book.

"Is it ruined?" George asked, seeming slightly apologetic.

"Perhaps we can dry it—"

"Fitzwilliam!"

The boys, Elizabeth, and Darcy all startled at his name being yelled. Elizabeth and Darcy had been so engrossed by the scene at the lake, that they had not seen a man approaching. Darcy's breath almost stopped. Elizabeth looked from the boys, then Darcy, to the man, and realization dawned on her. It was the late Mr. Darcy. Elizabeth instinctively reached for Darcy, placing her hand gently on top of his in comfort. Darcy's face had paled.

"Father," the young Fitzwilliam had replied. He was glaring at George, and was still holding the wet book when his father reached them.

"Fitzwilliam—"

Thinking he was in trouble, Fitzwilliam burst into a rapid explanation—"George and I were playing, and the book accidentally fell in the water, and I volunteered to go fetch it—"

Elizabeth glanced at Darcy, her eyebrows raised. Darcy managed a shrug.

"I should not have brought it out here, I am sorry father. It is one of our favorites," Fitzwilliam ended. George said nothing but tried his best to look innocent. His father knelt to be eye level with Fitzwilliam before taking the book from his hand, setting it aside. He gripped his son's hands tightly.

"Fitzwilliam. Your mother…" the rest of his words were spoken so softly to his young son that Elizabeth and Darcy could not hear. Instead, they watched as the late Mr. Darcy took the soaked Fitzwilliam into his arms as the boy began to sob. Father and son remained there for a long time, and then Mr. Darcy opened one arm to bring George into their embrace. George had been starring, clearly upset but bravely holding back tears. Mr. Darcy now held both boys in his arms, kissing the top of Fitzwilliam's wet hair, speaking words of comfort only the children could hear.

Elizabeth's eyes were welling with tears in understanding of the news that was just delivered. She turned her head to look at her Darcy. "Mr. Darcy. I am so sorry," she said. Darcy remained starring straight ahead, and his own eyes were glistening with tears of the recollected sorrow.

"I did not realize you lost your mother at such a young age. That must have been so difficult for you. I am sorry. We should not have come here," she added quietly. Darcy felt the pressure of her hand on his increase, and he responded to her words by taking her hand tightly. She had leaned closer to him as they had observed the scene.

"No, Miss Elizabeth, it is okay.I did not mean to bring you somewhere distressful. It was the first thing that came to mind."

Darcy's heart was aching with an old sorrow. The death of his parents had impacted him greatly. Everything he had done since was for the sake of Georgiana and to honor his parent's legacy. He remembered what would happen next. He would visit the newborn Georgiana and commit to keeping her safe and loved, as his mother would have wanted.

"Do not worry about me, Mr. Darcy. I only wish I could provide you some words of comfort," Elizabeth replied. The late Mr. Darcy was now leading the boys towards Pemberley, his hand resting on Fitzwilliam's shoulder as the boy clung to the wet book with both hands. George trailed slightly behind them, his head bowed. As the trio moved further from them, they seem to fade away, and not just due to distance.

Darcy straightened up as the figures disappeared. Their surrounding remained unaltered. In fact, the sound of the trees rustling around them and the chattering of birds seemed all the louder with the absence of the boys. Still, he was vigilant that the end of this memory meant the end of their time together.

"Perhaps we should keep moving, Miss Elizabeth," he said finally, standing up and extending his hand to her. She took it and pulled herself up. Without him having to offer, she wrapped her arm around his.

"I think you are right. I will be sad to leave Pemberley," she said. Darcy smiled gently at her as they walked down the hill and began a stroll down the lake towards the house.

"We do not have to leave. I want us only to be vigilant. We do not know how much time left we have, and it helps me feel a little safer if we keep walking."

"I am very fond of walking," Elizabeth responded with a smile. Darcy smiled widely at this. His heart felt comforted simply by looking at her.

"Yes. Yes, I know," he replied.

They walked silently together along the lake. Darcy's sense of foreboding increased as they neared the house, but he tried to remain concentrated on Elizabeth. As long as she was here, he had nothing to fear.

"I am glad you have brought us here, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth finally broke their silence. "I still have not disappeared. Perhaps this is all working," she said encouragingly. "I am optimistic that everything will be fine, and tomorrow you will be able to encourage Mr. Bingley to return to Hertfordshire for Jane." Darcy nodded. He was committed to it, even though he was skeptical of the efficacy of their plan to hide Elizabeth in a distant memory.

"And what of us, Miss Elizabeth?" he ventured to ask. It was stupid, really. The real Elizabeth hated him. Even if he did remember her and all of this in the morning, how could he possibly convince her to accept his hand? His Elizabeth did not respond.

They had reached stone steps and walked up them slowly. Elizabeth let go of Darcy once she was at the top of the stairs, clasping her hands together in thought. Darcy walked slightly ahead of her, looking to see if anyone was around. He glanced up at the windows, thinking he saw a rustle of a curtain, but saw no one. Realizing that Elizabeth had stopped near the stairs, he turned around to look at her. They had maintained such a close proximity to each other in the past moments that he felt bereft by her distance.

"Mr. Darcy. If I spoke my mind when I rejected your proposal, perhaps you should listen to what I said, and look beyond the way I said it. I am stubborn, but I can see now that you improve upon acquaintance simply by understanding your disposition a little better. Perhaps affection can grow if all the misunderstanding are cleared up," Elizabeth replied, speaking carefully.

Darcy suddenly had an unsettlingly feeling of familiarity with the scene. He had thought frequently about Elizabeth living with him at Pemberley, but she had never actually visited. And this was the Pemberley was his childhood. The grounds had changed since then. No, he was unnerved because it felt like a memory in and of itself, though he was certain that was impossible.

"I will take your words into account, Miss Elizabeth," he finally replied. "I am determined. When morning comes, I am certain I will remember you, and I will do what I can to win your affection."

Elizabeth smiled. Darcy's heart swelled at the sight of her. He watched as something drew her attention upwards towards the house.

"What is it?" he asked, turning his head to follow her eyes. He saw young Fitzwilliam in the window, partially hidden behind a curtain, watching them curiously, his face pressed sadly against the glass.

Darcy's head began to hurt almost as soon as he registered his younger self looking at them. He touched his hand to his forehead to try to ease the pain.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said in concern, crossing the space between them to put one hand on his back and the other on his arm. "Mr. Darcy, are you all right?"

"We need to go," he said, as one hand rubbed his temple and the other reached for Elizabeth. He could still touch her, but it was too late. Everything was fading away around them. "We should not have come here," Darcy added, miserably.

"Mr. Darcy, think of something else then, with haste. Please," Elizabeth implored, her grip on his arm increasing. Darcy felt weak. His heart and his head ached as Pemberley disappeared around them, and he thought he would surely pass out or wake up.

In desperation, he wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, willing himself the strength to keep her close to him. This transition was worse than the ones before. It seemed prolonged, perhaps because it was such an old memory. The darkness caused his head to spin, and he was unable to collect himself long enough to think of anything but holding onto her. He heard a small gasp from Elizabeth before she was gone from his arms.

"Elizabeth!" he yelled, but it was no use. The scene changed. He was no longer outside.

Darcy was winded, dizzy from the sudden force of the change, his head still throbbing. He tried to bring his eyes and ears into focus. Colors and faces swam around him as the room began to take shape. He could hear the lively music, laughter, and to his slight relief, Elizabeth's voice, but distant and distorted.

The Meryton assembly. No.

Darcy looked around, desperately following the sound of Elizabeth's voice hoping it would bring him to her. As the world stopped spinning and the room came into focus, he realized he was in the corner of the room near the wall. He held onto it to steady himself with one hand, trying to feel less dizzy. Multiple thoughts came to mind all at once.

This is it. The day we met. It is over. Where is she?

He was certain after this, he would wake up, and it would be finished. He would forget her entirely, as he had intended when he drank the contents in the vial. He could feel his heartache in the very pit of his stomach. What a fool he had been.

Author's Note: We are almost to the end of their time together! I promise I'll answer some questions about whether Darcy followed instructions closely or not (yes, I left it purposefully ambiguous!) in the next chapter. I will also be honest: I did intend it to end after the Meryton Assembly, but now I'm thinking of making it much longer as I would like to see more of how Darcy (and Elizabeth) handle this challenge. We shall see. I love reading your reviews, so thank you for leaving them!