A/N: Argh, I find it difficult to find a good chunk of time to just sit down and write. I have a two and a half year old who only takes one hour naps and that is the only time during the day I can write and edit. And when those naps are thrown off by something it is impossible. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Chapter 23

The next morning Mr. Collins left the house early before breaking his fast. He was sure Lady Catherine would need his support while her errant nephew was visiting. Elizabeth sighed as he left, went to the nursery and spent the better part of the morning playing with Little Will. How he looked like Mr. Darcy, she thought. It was plain to see to her she wondered no one else could see it. Then she supposed people saw what they wanted to see.

"I'm going out," Elizabeth said to Becky after putting Will down for his afternoon nap. "Should Mr. Collins return pray tell him I shall be back for luncheon."

The day was bright and warm, and welcomed a walker such as Elizabeth. She enjoyed the beauty of the land and had come to accept it as her home. She recalled those first few weeks after William's birth and smiled at how solicitous her husband had been towards her. It was in those moments she realized that Mr. Collins did indeed love her, and it warmed her heart. Though he was ever Lady Catherine's sycophant, the tender way he cared for Elizabeth seemed to open her own heart to him. She had finally begun to let him in; and then Mr. Darcy returned.

She walked away from Rosing's, towards Hunsford, afraid Mr. Darcy would haunt their old paths. She did not want to see him that day, or any other. His entering her life now threatened to imbalance what she had struggled to make right. She was afraid of meeting him alone, of what her emotions would be towards him. He was married now, so perhaps he had found someone else to love? Yes. Mr. Darcy had said he had come out of duty and would stay only two weeks. She sighed, then returned home.

Mr. Collins was home when she returned and was full of all that had gone on at Rosings that day. Lady Catherine, though still unforgiving of Mr. Darcy, had allowed him into her home to help her with the management of the estate. Apparently he had encouraged his Aunt to secure a steward who would perform the same function as himself, stating that he would not always be able to come visit. Lady Catherine had been set off by this, accusing his new wife of trying to keep him from his family duties, having already taken him from Anne. Mr. Darcy calmly explained that once Georgiana was married he would retire to Pemberley indefinitely and only return this way at the utmost importance.

"So Miss Darcy is out then?" Elizabeth asked, remembering the shy, young girl she had met at Jane's wedding.

"Yes, and is enjoying the London Season, by what Mr. Darcy has to say."

"Good," Elizabeth smiled.

They were summoned to Rosing's the next evening for supper and Elizabeth couldn't remember a more quiet meal in her life. At first Mr. Collins had attempted to engage in conversation, but one glaring look from Lady Catherine had shut him up. Anne was as quiet as ever, and Darcy merely partook of his food. Elizabeth felt terribly uncomfortable and wished she had made some excuse to be left out.

"Since the only gentleman here is you, Darcy," Lady Catherine stated after ringing the bell for the table to be cleared, "I don't see why we all can't retire to the sitting room. Pray, Mrs. Collins, won't you play for us?"

Elizabeth nodded her head, and once in the sitting room made her way to the piano and began playing a trilling song she had just mastered. Light conversation then began to flow between Lady Catherine, Collins and Mr. Darcy, sometimes even Anne. Elizabeth wished she could be nearer to hear, but she could only hear the low rumble of their voices over the piano. Once she was finished, she sat quietly next to her husband.

"Anne and Mrs. Collins have struck up a curious friendship," Lady Catherine said.

Mr. Darcy regarded Anne, and then Elizabeth, "truly?"

"Yes," Collins put forth, "when Elizabeth suffered after our son was born, Miss de Bourgh was a frequent visitor, which helped my dear wife in her convalescence."

"Convalescence?" He demanded, looking at the faces around the room in an agitated manner. "I was not aware."

"No, of course not," Lady Catherine spat, "you were busy getting married."

Elizabeth, Mr. Collins, and even Anne looked down at their laps at Lady Catherine's outburst.

Darcy cleared his throat, "Yes, well, she is doing better? And the baby?"

"Will," Anne supplied, "we call him Little Will."

"Little Will?" He looked questioningly at Elizabeth, her face reddening.

"Named for me," Mr. Collins said.

Elizabeth bit her lip. She knew she was taking a great risk in naming her child Will. Though it fit perfectly with that of her husband, the real reason she named him so was after Fitzwilliam.

The conversation then turned, Lady Catherine not at all pleased it had hovered so long over the name of her Parson's child. After all safe topics of conversation were exhausted the Collins' left for the evening, leaving those at Rosings to themselves.

Mr. Darcy arrived at the Parsonage the next day in the late morning, catching Elizabeth at home without her husband. She politely asked if he would care for some tea, and invited him into the parlor. She was just pouring the tea into the cups when a distant cry was heard, then a pair of feet hurrying towards their room.

"Excuse me," Becky said upon spying the gentleman. Little Will was bundled in her arms, ready for his outdoor time.

"This is Little Will, and his nurse, Becky," Elizabeth said, holding her arms out for her baby.

He giggled as he sat upon her lap, reaching up for her mop cap to tear it from her head. "Becky, you may leave, I shall call if you are needed."

Becky curtsied, then went upstairs, leaving the three of them alone. Elizabeth chanced a look at Darcy and saw him staring at Little Will in a sort of longing way.

"Would you like to hold him?" She asked hesitantly, unsure if Darcy had ever held a babe in his arms.

He rose from his chair and sat next to Elizabeth on the sofa, and allowed Little Will to be placed in his arms. Holding him a bit awkwardly, Will began to struggle, vocalizing his displeasure at being handed to a stranger. Darcy frowned and gave him back to his Mother.

"He is a handsome boy," he said.

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed, "he takes after his Father."

She looked up at him then and he stared back into her eyes. How she longed to kiss him, to feel his arms around her again. Though Collins was a good husband, there was no passion between themselves, something Elizabeth struggled with. She would often feel tension build up within her body, tension she knew only Mr. Darcy could alleviate, and feel completely hopeless about it.

Elizabeth cleared her throat, breaking eye contact, "I failed to congratulate you on your marriage, and wish to do so now."

"I thank you," Darcy replied, pursing his lips in dissatisfaction.

"The paper gave very little detail to the wedding, that I-"

"Elizabeth," Darcy cut her short, placing his hand upon her knee, "I do not wish to speak of my wife."

"I am sorry, I..." Elizabeth stopped. She had chosen that topic on purpose in order to fight the roiling emotions within.

Darcy removed his hand from her knee, and stood before her, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I wish to...I need to see you in private. Please, I need to explain myself."

Elizabeth slowly shook her head, "You have nothing to explain, Mr. Darcy."

He looked down at her, his gaze fierce, "Humor me then."

Elizabeth looked around the room, "We are alone now."

"No," Darcy also looked around the room, "not here. The cottage."

"No, no," Elizabeth shook her head. If she was alone with Darcy in that cottage again, she would be undone. She had vowed to never share intimacies with him again, and how could she, now that she was finally finding love within her own marriage, passionless though it might be.

"I am begging you, please, give me fifteen minutes," he had sat back down next to her.

Elizabeth adjusted Will on her lap, who was reaching towards the floor, hoping to get down and move about at his own leisure. She closed her eyes, "I will meet you for fifteen minutes, tonight at midnight."

"Thank you," Darcy rose from his seat, bowed to her, and left.

Elizabeth looked at Little Will, gave him a gentle squeeze, then hoped she had the strength to fight her own pull towards the man she loved.