Chapter 2: If these walls could talk

One year later

Darcy stood beside her fidgeting with the button on his sleeve. For a few moments, Elizabeth watched with amusement as he twisted and turned the shiny ornament. Her husband was a very tactile person. It explained his penchant for pacing, his purposeful posing with his hands clasped tightly at his back, his need to touch anything be it a glass of wine or the loose curl in her hairstyle. It was both endearing and slightly unnerving that the man couldn't stay still for long periods of time. She supposed it was also why he enjoyed his outdoor activities like riding over sitting in a carriage or walking rather than lounging idly in a drawing room.

While Elizabeth certainly enjoyed being active, the level of unsettledness in her husband often pushed her general patience. And when he was insecure or uncertain, his fidgeting just got worse. Fitzwilliam once confided stories of mean schoolmasters smacking hands and knees that refused to stop moving. The thought of someone hitting her poor sweet husband was enraging and allowed her some compassion. She loved learning new things about him, discovering secrets and untold stories of his parents and childhood.

With this thought, she reached up to grab his hand and entwine their fingers. She stroked the backside of his hand for a moment before pulling it in for a small kiss. She looked up to find him watching her as if in awe.

"As ever, my dear," he smiled at her, "you know how to pull me from my thoughts and settle me into my present."

"Georgiana and Andrew will wish you were present in mind and body."

Two years after her debut, Georgiana Darcy became Georgiana Simmons. Her husband Andrew was the third son of an Earl and godson of her own uncle. Many naturally assumed the match between the young cleric and the heiress was arranged, but the two were desperately in love from their first dance at her uncle's house, having not seen each other since they were small children. It was a true love story, and the pair were settled nicely in the parsonage attached to his elder brother's estate in Buckinghamshire, less than a day's drive from Elizabeth's family estate and a natural stop on their annual drive to visit family.

Their simple carriage came to a stop on the front drive, right in front of the waiting Darcys. Georgiana was already leaning out the window, waving at her brother and sister-in-law. Her energy was still contagious, and it made Elizabeth smile at the memories. Nearly seven years after meeting the beautiful blonde, her youthful exuberance has only blossomed into an energetic young lady. It was no wonder the people of their parish were drawn to her natural enthusiasm and genuine compassion.

Georgiana nearly jumped out of the carriage and bounced up to her brother in a big hug before pulling her sister-in-law into a tight embrace. It was hard not to smile when one was around Georgiana. She wrapped her arm around Elizabeth's and led her into the house, leaving their husbands to greet each other both as required and as brothers.

"I'm afraid we will be perpetually left in their wake," Andrew observed as he and Darcy watched their wives far outpace them.

"It's not the worst place to be, as husbands go," Darcy smirked at his brother-in-law before motioning for him to join him within.

"Six years married, and suddenly you are the expert."

Darcy took the comment for how it was meant – a good-natured tease by a good-natured gentleman. "About as much as I could be for someone married six years." Darcy quirked his head to his brother. "Of course, it is almost seven years."

Andrew laughed and clapped his brother on the back before entering the parlor where his wife and Elizabeth had seated themselves for catching up. Darcy paused, realizing this was the same room that held so many memories for the two most important women in his life. It was the same parlor they first met years ago, one still practically a child and one he couldn't believe wasn't an apparition. The same room that he told Georgiana he would be giving her a sister. The same room Georgiana, in turn, declared she would give him a brother. Darcy wondered if this room was somehow the center of many Darcy family moments, whether Darcys past had held this room of particular significance in their own lives.

He was pulled from his thoughts as he heard the sound he longed to hear more than anything in the world, something that had only recently become familiar again – his wife's laughter. Lizzy laughing. It was the one time he thought of her as "Lizzy" rather than "Elizabeth" because it reminded him of her time before she was Mrs. Darcy, so carefree and unknowingly so very charming. It was also enough to make him crumble. She had been so fragile at one point he feared he would never hear his Lizzy laughing. Yet, in moments of arriving, his little sister (as she would always be, even when they both were old and grey) pulled genuine laughter from his Lizzy.

As was his wont from before they even were on pleasant terms, Darcy closely studied his wife as she engaged in conversation with his sister. Her eyes sparkled, and a smile rarely left her face, which allowed for the crinkles at the corner of her eyes to remain a permanent fixture and a tribute to her natural joy. She was wholly engaged in the conversation, nothing to indicate her disconnect and glazed over expression and misty eyes that often wiped over her face in conversation, the often indicated to Darcy that he was needed to "rescue" her from her thoughts and something that made her remember.

Remember. Not that they could forget. But perhaps it was too vague. Perhaps they needed to remember. But not remember the melancholy, just the hope, the dream, the…

Darcy briefly touched his charm before surreptitiously pulling out his pocket watch as if he was always meaning to check the time. Forgetting the grandfather clock at the far wall or the pretty blue marble one on the mantle or the ugly gold-gilded one from Aunt Catherine on the shelf. An excuse was an excuse.

Darcy cleared his throat. "I hate to interrupt, Mrs. Darcy, but there is plenty of time for catching up with our guests. They will probably want to freshen up for dinner."

Elizabeth cocked her head at him for a moment before nodding. "Of course, Mr. Darcy." She quirked her brow at him for his suddenly penchant for formality. "Georgiana, Andrew, we will see you for dinner."

The Darcys swept out of the room, arm in arm, leaving the Simmons standing in the parlor. They looked at each other and communicated wordlessly as lovers so often do. Andrew slightly nodded before Georgiana's nod in return came with a look of fierce determination. Andrew smiled at his wife. He knew that one should never underestimate a Darcy on a mission, even if that Darcy held a new surname.