My original plan for this story was to leave it were it was after that previous chapter, but I got so many requests to continue that I decided to go on. I'm a bit worried that it was already perfect as it was, so please let me know if it's starting to suck and I'll stop. :)

This scene doesn't have the naughtiness of the previous two, but if I am to go on I need to clear up some things between them. I would be happy to hear any suggestions or requests you may have!

Darcy could not contain his elation as the meaning of her words penetrated his consciousness. He had been so afraid that, despite everything they had done, she would refuse him still. He knew he should have asked for her answer as soon as they had met that morning, but had decided instead to tempt her further, and enjoy a little more of her, before accepting his fate. It had been wicked of him, of course, but most enjoyable. He thoroughly deserved the three uncomfortable hours he had spent in the woods repeating "I cannot believe I removed my breeches in front of Elizabeth" over and over in his head. It was a miracle indeed that Elizabeth had not been angry with him, and an even greater miracle that she had accepted his hand. And now her lips still lingered on his ear, kissing and biting gently as her hands stole around his neck and into his hair.

"Thank you, my love," Darcy finally whispered into her hair. They stood thus for several moments, Elizabeth stroking his soft hair, and Darcy gently gripping her tiny waist, measuring it's smallness with his large hands. His bride! He could scarcely believe his good fortune.

Darcy was so accustomed to being somber, that the sudden wave of happiness that washed over him was impossible to manage. He didn't know what to do with himself. Elizabeth watched, transfixed, as the serious man she had come to care for transformed before her eyes into a joyful young boy on Christmas morning. It would have been impossible for Elizabeth's heart not to melt when she beheld his lovely smile, displaying a fine set of perfect white teeth and two sets of dimples, one on each side of his mouth. His dark eyes shone with merriment. And then he laughed, a deep, throaty laugh so infectious that Elizabeth immediately discovered that she was laughing too.

"Oh, Lizzy!" He took her face in his hands and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. The next second, Elizabeth felt her feet fly out from under her. She squealed and grasped his lapels, suddenly finding herself cradled in his arms. Having given in to the sudden urge to pick her up, Darcy was unsure what to do with her now that he had her. He bit his lip, and grinned sheepishly into her shocked face before setting her on her feet again.

"Um...forgive me," had stammered, running his fingers through his hair, causing it to stick out in all directions. Elizabeth laughed and grasped his hands in hers, standing on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. She thought she had never seen him look so adorable as he did just now, smiling ear to ear, and all because of her. For the first time, Elizabeth felt the deep fulfillment that would come with a life spent to make another happy. She vowed in her heart to always do whatever she could to keep that incandescent smile on his face, and that light in his eyes. She tentatively reached out and fingered his dimples.

"So," she teased, "the formidable Mr. Darcy has dimples, and two sets at that!"

"Do I?" he asked. "I knew I had them as a child, but I did not know that I had them still." He looked down for a moment and sighed before continuing. "I truly cannot remember smiling like this since I was a child."

"That's so sad," Elizabeth said as she put her arms around his waist. Obviously her new fiance had not had the easy, carefree life his wealth and station would suggest. Her father had often reminded her, her sisters, and , however futilely, her mother that money could not buy happiness. She desired to know more of him, what made him proud and what made him somber? What had happened in his past to cause him not to smile in so many years?

"Will you tell me about yourself?" she urged, taking his hand and leading him towards the path.

"What is it that you wish to know, my dear?"

"Everything. Your entire history as far back as you can remember. I want to know what your parents were like, your education, childhood activities...Oh, and about your sister, Georgiana. I know there must be so much more to her story than just the incident with Wickham. I want to know everything," she finished with a smile.

Darcy was still smiling, but she could see that some of the light had faded from his eyes. Apparently memories of his past were not pleasant ones. Elizabeth gripped his forearm with her free hand and rested her cheek against his shoulder. .This seemed the cheer him, as his eyes lit up again as he looked down at her. He placed his free hand over hers.

"It makes me very happy that you truly want to know me, Elizabeth, but I must warn you that much of my history is not pleasant. I will tell you all, in time, but I would rather not speak of it just now. This is a happy day, the happiest of my life, in fact. I would not wish to spoil it by speaking of my unpleasant past."

"I understand, Mr. Darcy. I will be patient."

"Please call me Fitzwilliam, my love." Elizabeth scowled. "What is so very shocking, dear? Fitzwilliam is my given name after all. It would not do to have you calling me Mr. Darcy for the rest of our lives."

Elizabeth smiled back at him and replied, "I would be happy to call you by your given name, sir, it's just that...well...it reminds me of your cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. It would not do for me to think of your cousin every time I say your name," she teased.

"Absolutely not!" Darcy released her hand to wrap his arm possessively around her waist. "We shall have to think of something else for you to call me, then."

"What is your full name?"

"Fitzwilliam George Darcy," he replied.

"George! Oh, dear. I had hoped that I could use your second name, but George is Mr. Wickham's given name, is it not?"

Darcy nodded. "I suppose that will never do either."

"What does Georgaina call you?"

"Brother."

"Well, that is no help at all," Elizabeth began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. "I've got it! Does anyone ever call you Will?"

He shook his head, "No. That name would belong to you alone."

"There's an end to it, then. Will it shall be."

When they came in sight of the parsonage, Darcy removed his hand from her waist and offered her his arm instead. Once they reached the garden, he stopped and turned to face her.

"Elizabeth, before we part there is something I must speak with you about."

"Of course, Will." She led him to a bench secluded in a heavily shaded corner of the garden wall.

Once seated, he took both her hands in his and began. "My dearest Elizabeth, I must apologize to you. My behavior last night and this morning was inexcusable. That was not how a gentleman treats a lady, and I am thoroughly ashamed of myself. The only excuse I can offer is that, in my love for you and desperation at the thought of losing you, I completely forgot myself."

"You needn't be ashamed. True, your behavior was...somewhat less than gentlemanlike, but, then again, my behavior was not ladylike in the least."

"No, Elizabeth, the blame is entirely mine. You are an innocent, virtuous young lady, and I knew exactly what I was doing. I took advantage of your passionate nature, and I should not have."

"Will, I am not angry. I must admit that I have no regrets about what transpired between us, because if it had not I most likely would not have the pleasure of calling you my fiance now. I was quite losing my temper before you so skillfully distracted me." She raised an eyebrow and smiled archly up at him. "You need have no regrets."

"Well, while I am sorry for the way I behaved, I cannot say that I regret what transpired. I enjoyed it immensely, whether I should have or not."

After a short pause Elizabeth ventured, " Will, I want no secrets between us. I do not...believe you are...a rake, but clearly you knew what you were about. I take it you are not...innocent in this...area."

Darcy took a deep breath to steady himself. He had expected Elizabeth to be curious about his history in this area. She was far too bright not to surmise that he was no innocent. Her request that they have no secrets between them was a respectable one. He would be honest with her.

"You are correct, Elizabeth, in assuming I am not an innocent. I have been with women, but not since I fell in love with you. And they were all courtesans, and mostly in my Cambridge days, several years ago. I have never been with a maiden. You will be the first in that respect. Also, you are the first and only woman I have ever been in love with. Please do not make yourself uneasy about my past."

When Darcy finally brought himself to look at Elizabeth, he was surprised to find her face flushed, her jaw clenched, and her hands balled into fists at her sides. She looked...angry. Panicked by her apparent anger, he quickly dropped to his knees before her and covered her fisted hands with his.

" Elizabeth, please don't be angry with me. I told you it was all in the past, and I promise you there will never be another. You're all I need"

She finally looked at him, eyes ablaze, and roughly took his face in her hands. He was so beautiful and desirable a man that she was unsurprised that other women would want to be with him, even those payed for their services.

"I am not angry at you, Will. The though of any other woman touching you makes me ill. You're mine!"

Darcy smiled widely. He was tremendously relieved that she was not angry with him. Elizabeth never ceased to amaze. He loved that she felt possessive of him as he did of her. He raised his hands to her face.

"I am yours, only yours, heart, body, and soul." With that, his lips met hers hungrily, and she kissed him back with possessive force. Darcy's hands found their way under her skirt, where they caressed their way upwards until they found the warm, bare skin above her stockings.

Elizabeth was, once again, the first to hear the sound of approaching horses. She broke from the kiss and looked around frantically.

"They're back!" she whispered urgently, regretfully removing his hands from her thighs and righting her skirt.

Darcy finally broke from his passion-induced trance and stood, pulling Elizabeth to her feet with him.

"I will take my leave then." He lifted her hand to his lips for a chaste, but meaningful, kiss. "Until tomorrow, my love."

Elizabeth watched his fine form disappear around the corner. There was so much left unsaid, so much they still needed to discuss. Even more pressing was the ache deep in her belly that only he could relieve.

"Our wedding night cannot come too soon, my lover," she sighed.