The dawn had broken with a distinct chill in the air, the kind that cleansed the soul and sharpened the mind, that was so often accompanied by a bright blue sky and a crispness underfoot. The grass of the neat lawn that stretched out towards the unseen ha-ha glistened in the early morning light, the lake beyond calm and still. It was as if time had paused momentarily, the faint ticking of the clock on the mantle behind her the only indication otherwise. Elizabeth wasn't sure what it was that had caused her to wake. A door being pulled a little too sharply some floors below perhaps, or the clinking of a scullery maid's bucket as she commenced the first task of the day. Whatever it was it had proven final with any further sleep evading her and it was how she'd come to be positioned on the deep sill of the window, it flung open wide with a pillow and blanket dragged from the bed to provide sufficient comfort and warmth.

She rested her head against the wall as she let her gaze wander across the broad landscape, from the dense woodland on the northernmost edge of the vista, along the tumbling hillside with the stream that knew to be hidden away up there, and finally the sweeping curve of the road as it descended sharply downwards before disappearing out of sight. Not yet six months married and she could still scarcely believe how she came to find herself in a thrilling location as this, a place of such wild beauty that she imagined that if walked all day and all night for the rest of her days she might never have all of its features sufficiently mapped. Pushing the bedding off her knees, she swing her feet down from the edge and padded across to the small side table positioned with the chairs clustered in front of the fireplace. Her fingertip ran down the tower of books balanced precariously upon it, stopping at one that was bound in a dark leather, the title embossed on the spine worn and faded from use. Carefully she began to gently tug it free from its place about halfway down the pile and she almost had it free when the sound of the door handle startled her and as her head turned sharply in response her hand moved too, dislodging it too quickly and she gasped as the stack came crashing down, one landing on her bare foot.

"Ouch," she winced, bending down to rub at her toes to ease the pain, hardly noticing as a figure loomed beside her.

"Are you hurt, dearest?" came his concerned voice, his mouth near level with her ear as he knelt down to come to her aid.

"All is well, Fitzwilliam," she assured, "I was foolish to attempt such a manoeuvre."

"It was my fault," he implored, "I surprised you."

Elizabeth straightened and gently encouraged him to do the same, their bodies coming together flush against one another as he returned to full height. She let a smile grace upon her lips at the frown of worry etched onto his brow and lifted her hand to his cheek to stroke her thumb softly against the furrows.

"Hush now. Let us not fall out over who is to blame. At least," she paused, her smile fading a little as she composed herself, "Not when we have such more important matters over which to argue."

He flinched. "My dear?" he enquired with confusion and when she did not immediately speak set his mind racing as he examined their conversations of the previous evening.

He struggled to immediately determine in which way he could possibly have caused offence and not been aware of it. Surely their interaction had been as he remembered, one that resembled a pattern that was becoming a routine of sorts, one in which he drew immense delight and contentment. Dinner had been taken at the usual hour and in the smaller dining room. With just themselves and Georgiana present it seemed unnecessary to go to the effort and discomfort of utilising the larger one. It had been one of a number of subtle changes proposed by Elizabeth over recent weeks and, having listened to her reasoning and finding it sound, had readily agreed. And of course she'd been right in her thinking. The room was far more efficient to heat and in fact closer to the kitchens, therefore making the experience much more pleasurable for all involved. Their discussions had varied as again was becoming customary, transitioning easily between matters of the estate to those of a more global nature. They'd laughed over the Colonel's most recent letter which spoke of his journey across the Channel and beyond, the horrors that he might yet face still distant enough to allow him to dwell on the humour given to him by his men and fellow officers. They'd retired early, his sister claiming fatigue from her day of visits in the two closest villages, and him from his simple desire to be alone with his wife.

"Lizzy, do not keep me in suspense," he urged, still unable to discern his error. "If I have wronged you then it was unknowingly done."

Elizabeth hummed discontentedly, her face lined with her vexation, her eyes dark beneath her lashes as she seemed to focus on the folds of his white shirt.

"Madam, I beseech you. Tell me what it is."

Her visage lifted suddenly and met his worried gaze with one of defiance, but he saw something spark, or at least imagined he did, for as he blinked it vanished leaving simply dark pools of beauty boring into his own.

"Sir," she began in a tone of disbelief, "I woke unnaturally early to find you gone from my bed, with no sense that you had remained much longer than our coupling. And now," she huffed, taking a step back away from him, "You return to me fully clothed as if to start your day. I had not understood this to be our new arrangement."

His jaw dropped aghast, his voice rendered speechless at the accusation. He struggled to immediately respond, to know how to commence his protest, where to begin protesting as to what had taken him away. And then he saw it, the minutest curve of her lips as he realised her tease, that she was toying with him as he should have realised from the off, given she was apt to do on a near hourly basis. But he was becoming accustomed to its occurence and, oddly, found he derived an unusual sort of reassurance from this most frequent reminder of her zest for life.

"Am I mistaken then," he replied, "I had thought it was what you sought. Did you not say so the other night?"

"What?" she retorted, her arms barely contained by her side with surprised agitation. "When did I? Pray, tell me that!"

"I understand it was on the matter onfmy elbows that you protested most keenly," he replied with feigned severity. "I believe you found them to be in your way and understood you wished this inconvenience gone, to allow you to slumber without interruption."

"Well yes, Fitzwilliam," she blustered "Because you insist on sleeping on your front with them spread wide so as to collide with my own."

"Ah," he interrupted, seizing on her argument, "Then you concede your elbows are as troublesome as my own."

"Fitzwilliam! Truly you do not think that I meant for you to enact such an extreme resolution? There are other ways in which this could be addressed, one that I would have thought us able to discuss with..." She stopped suddenly and tilted her head, her eyes narrowing as she considered him. "You are jesting with me."

And with that he laughed, his head thrown back momentarily before he stepped forward to sweep her up into his arms, his only feeling further encouraged as she attempted to resist him, her cheek turned resolutely towards him which only tempted him to plant a lingering kiss upon it.

"My darling, nothing so trivial would drag me from your bed, nor anything more substantial," he assured, his lips placing themselves softly on her cheek once more then carving out a delicate path downwards to win back her favour. But his wife was sufficiently stubborn not to be tempted into submission by affection alone and would, he knew, require further enticement through explanation. "If you must know," his voice dropping, "We have a visitor and I rose to greet them."

"A visitor?" she started, turning to look at the clock, "At this hour?"

"Indeed," he agreed, "And I'll wager you will be as surprised as I was to discover who they are."