The morning had been quiet, there had not been the sound of running up and down the halls, nor the frustrated shouts of the nursemaid, nor the general uproar that usually accompanied sunrise in the Darcy household. In fact, Elizabeth had been surprised when she had been able to rise at her own leisure, enjoy a bath before beginning her toilette, and enjoy a somewhat still and restful breakfast. It was a rare thing indeed, and something that she had enjoyed very much. Now as she finished her book and enjoyed tea with lemon biscuits, she gazed down onto the front lawn from her position in the library and could see Fitzwilliam and his younger, more adventurous brother, James, playing croquet with their father. The older boy was more reserved, much more like his namesake – observing and calculating every outcome before committing to any action, whereas the younger threw himself all in and damned the consequences. Darcy was laughing and smiling, picking the boys up and swinging them around, until all hope of completing their game was abandoned and her three boys were chasing each other up and down the grass in the early April sunshine.

The grounds at Pemberley were bursting into life all around, with flowers beginning to bloom and poke through the winter dull and being welcomed by unseasonably warm sunshine. Winter had been long and arduous, and she was looking forward with anticipation to the lighter nights and happy events that the coming seasons promised. It was a wonderful day and if she hadn't been so encumbered with child and ready for her confinement, Elizabeth would have running and chasing them around the house. The past few years has gone by in a whirlwind and before they had even settled into a daily routine of family life, the Darcys had found themselves as the parents of two boys. Fitzwilliam had been not quite two when James was born, a wonderfully easy birth which she had rejoiced in, and they were the best of friends and partners in crime. Now five and three, they were about to welcome a new Darcy into the world and although she would have never said out loud, Elizabeth hoped that this new babe would be a girl, so she would, at last, have an ally in the household. That said, she was so large and unwieldy that Darcy was convinced there were about five babies in there. Jane, who had borne four children in quick succession, said that it was normal for your body to be different with each child and that, whilst she enjoyed being the mother of such a large brood, she had banished Bingley to his chambers for the present time to avoid any happy accidents whilst her own body recovered.

The Bingleys had their hands full with Charlotte, Abigail, Charles and Peter, and were nearly always in the country now and very rarely in town, much to the disappointment of Mrs Hurst who, now widowed and childless, loved to spend time with her gaggle of nieces and nephews and frittered away her inheritance on them in lieu of offspring of her own. The house at Dunham was very comfortable and, much to the delight of Mrs Bennet, had very good attics. Like Pemberley, the house was based in expansive grounds and home to a herd of deer who provided much sport to the gentlemen when it was the season. With such gentlemanly pursuits available to both Bingley and Darcy so close to their own homes, it was no shock to anyone that the families only travelled into London for the first two weeks of the season, before retreating to their estates and declaring that they much preferred their own society.

The children had been taken to the nursery for the afternoon and he had convinced her to take a walk with him around the grounds, he knew that walking was always good in the later stages of pregnancy, and he knew how much his wife loved to walk. Darcy held his wife's hand tightly in his own, who would have known seven years ago on his first visit to Hertfordshire that he would eventually return to Pemberley and Miss Elizabeth Bennet would be its mistress. They journeyed out of the south front of the house and stood for a moment in front of the lake before turning left and walking up past the Orangery. It was the route that they had taken on Elizabeth's first visit to Derbyshire when Darcy, filled with hope, longing and anxiety, had taken it upon himself to show her how much of a gentleman he could be after her rebuke and rejection of his first proposal. She had not realised how much hurt that had caused him, throwing the words out, as she did, like arrows and not caring where they landed. But he was grateful. He was grateful because she had highlighted to him the error of his ways and had allowed him a second chance to prove to her that he was worthy of joining his life with hers. They trod their well-worn path up to the rose garden where once, newlywed and enamoured, they had foregone propriety and kissed fervently under the tiled roof of the pergola, before returning to their rooms quickly before all modicum of respectability was lost.

"Darcy, I hope you know this, but this life of ours makes me happier than I ever hoped I would be."

Elizabeth was leaning back on the wooden bench looking down onto the newly budding roses and the lake beyond. Darcy reached for her gloved hand and raising it to his lips, gently kissed it.

"Mine too, Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

She laughed at him before kissing his hand in return and holding it tightly, resting it on her lap, Elizabeth always felt that she could conquer the whole world with one hand if Darcy was holding the other.

"I never thought that I would ever be the mistress of somewhere like Pemberley, I never wished it for myself, my only wish was for the deepest love and maybe a small household somewhere far enough from my mother that she would think twice about visiting every day."

"I hope, Mrs Darcy, that you did eventually marry for love."

Elizabeth smiled wryly, "mainly for love, partly for the big house."

Darcy laughed, "and my ten thousand a year!"

Even though he laughed, she could sense his fleeting but underlying insecurity that it was his wealth and not himself that had attracted her, it was something that not even nearly eight years of marriage and two children could fully abate. She gently cupped his face in her hands and kissed him gently on the nose.

"You know I would love you even if you were penniless."

He recovered, taking a short moment to recover himself and look oft into the distance at the grand south front façade of the hall, with its Palladian columns and ornate statues. He knew his self-doubt was a failing and he was constantly trying to resolve it; he gave his wife an appreciative look, which she returned, her eyes sparkling in the afternoon haze. She knew of the inner workings of his mind and the constant battle he had within himself to be both Mr Darcy of Derbyshire, and Fitzwilliam, the husband and father.

"But ten thousand a year always makes a man appear more attractive in the eyes of a woman."

"This is true, I mean if you had not a great estate in Derbyshire then I would not have been able to overlook your pointy chin."

"My chin is not pointy."

"It is, husband, something we cannot deny, but hopefully beards will be the fashion again in the not too distant future and you will be able to disguise it somewhat."

"Mrs Darcy, I have never been so offended in all of my life!" He looked at her with humour, enjoying the teasing and easy repartee that had become a fixture of their everyday lives.

"Well, Mr Darcy, if you would be so kind as to accompany me to the top lawn then I will be happy to oblige you with more offence than you are used to."

They walked up to the very edge of the grounds, before the estate faded into the wilderness of the deer park and the moors beyond, taking a time to rest on a bench at the far reaches. From there you could see the vast expanse of the grounds, where the edge of the house dipped down into the Dutch Gardens and beyond.

"My mother used to sit here quite often, it was her favourite place to sit and read and look out onto the grounds below." Darcy was wistful, without falling into the trap of sentimentality. He sometimes wished Lady Anne were here so that she could approve of his choice of wife and enjoy the company of her grandchildren. More importantly she could have been here to witness Georgiana's wedding these coming summer months and enjoy the merriment that had invaded every inch of the house.

"I know you miss your mother, and I know that every pregnancy makes you nervous that I will suffer the same fate she did and that our children would struggle."

"It would not be about the children…children are resilient, children can overcome such a loss," he paused for a moment, unsure of how to intonate his feeling. "But how could I live without you?"

Elizabeth looked at Darcy's pensive face and was filled with an immediate rush of love for this complicated man who she shared her life with.

In the whole of their married life, there had only been one time, one time, when she had ever doubted Darcy's love for her – when he had declared a prudent, but loveless, match for Georgiana would have been better than one made in a wave of sentimental haste. If Darcy had insecurities about their match, then Elizabeth had had them tenfold, as well as the judgment and condescending tones of society ladies who had first assumed that she had trapped Darcy into marriage, and then secondly judged her for the inferiority of her connections, one of the things that Darcy had initially pointed out when first asking for her hand. She had heard these murmurs and whisperings on the evening of her first Lady Anne's Ball, where she had worn cerulean and sapphires and attempted to charm everyone in the room. Darcy did not hear these affronts and Elizabeth, ever the gracious hostess, did her best to ignore them and prove to the sneering women of their society that they were completely wrong about her. She had worked doubly hard to assume her place as a leader of Derbyshire society and deem herself worthy of their respect in her position as Mrs Darcy of Pemberley. Fitzwilliam never saw her struggles and she made every effort to keep them from him, confiding in Mrs Collins and Jane through lengthy and frequent correspondence. She did not want Darcy to know of the slights that she had faced, knowing as she did that he would fly into a rage and remove them from the country and to the house in Grosvenor Square. After all, she never did really like town.

Turning to Darcy, with his sad grey eyes and his mournful look, she pulled him into her, letting his head rest upon her chest as she stroked his hair and held him close.

"You would live without me, Fitzwilliam, and whilst I would expect a decent level of mourning and sadness, I would not expect you to pine for me for the remainder of your life. You, above all people, need someone to laugh with, pull you out of your moods and remind you that there is always something to be thankful for and enjoy."

She stood up and tried to drag him to his feet, struggling a little with the weight of her belly and the imbalance it caused.

"Anyway, all this worry is for naught," Elizabeth stated jovially, still tugging on his arm as he playfully resisted. "I have no mind to die young and leave a tragic footnote in history, and neither should you, for even though I would be able live without you, I would rather not."

He stood up and engaged her arm in his, a smile returning to his face, all melancholy gone for the moment, and the Darcys began to walk back to the house the long way around, laughing and teasing each other as they did.