Note, this is a shortish chapter, as that's where the story naturally breaks, but fear not. They'll start getting longer starting with #4.

Feeling a little feisty, Darcy grinned and said, "It's a good thing we're engaged, as otherwise you would be completely compromised."

Elizabeth giggled and added, "Absolutely"

With their good humor restored, hey fell into an easy alternating banter reminiscent of their days at Netherfield, but without the hard edge they had back then. It was much easier when Elizabeth wasn't as happy to cause him pain as not.

"Thoroughly"… "Utterly"… "Perfectly"… "Indubitably"… "Unconditionally"… "Omnino"… "I know Latin too, Mr. Showoff"

That brought a laugh from the bear.

"In every way"

Elizabeth paused, smiled and said, "Not just yet, but it shan't be long I imagine."

That brought the return of the bear with another laugh, and the Scotsmen weren't even particularly active for the moment.

A little more seriously, Elizabeth said, "I don't think I can call you Fitzwilliam. Do you have some other name you use?"

"Why ever not?"

"Because when I think of my husband, I don't want to think about his cousin."

Once again pensive Darcy asked, "And are you comfortable thinking of me as you husband Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth could see he still had a bit of vulnerability after the events of the previous evening; not to mention he was obviously still in some pain from the brandy, as was she.

She answered softly and carefully, "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I believe I've learned two important things about us. Firstly, I think we complement each other very well. We're different enough in many ways that I think each of us brings a strength the other lacks. Secondly, I think we're similar in one important way. With respect to each other, we're both all-or-nothing. We have been almost from the first moment, although neither of us realized it. The only way to stop hating you was to start loving you, and make no mistake Fitzwilliam Darcy; I do love you with all my heart."

Darcy could not think of any answer to that, except for the tenderest of kisses.

Right at that moment, they were interrupted by an angel. This was not a Charles Bingley style angel, as the only requirement for that was great beauty, which neither of them was in any great need of. No, this was the best of angels. This was the ideal angel. This was the archetypal angel. This was the paragon of all angles. This was the angel against which all others would be measured. This was Charlotte Collins, and she had, "COFFEE!"

She also had scones and blueberries and cream and bacon and eggs and tea and sugar and biscuits and honey and… Suffice it to say there were at least two extremely happy people in the room, maybe even three. It was too early to tell about Charlotte. Elizabeth suspected she would at the very least be happy to say, "I told you so!"… with or without sticking out her tongue… Were married women allowed to do that?

Charlotte smiled and brought the tray over. The Bear and the Wolf reappeared and fell to the meal ravenously, greedily, rapaciously, ferociously, insatiably… it was a sight to behold, although truth be told, maybe a bit embarrassing.

When they at last slowed down, they were enjoying their third cup of coffee and the very last of the marmalade. Thus contented, and with the retreat of the damn Scottish Bagpipe and Drum Corps, Charlotte asked quite sweetly and innocently, "Lizzy, did you have something to tell me?"

Looking contrite, Elizabeth said, "We drank all your husband's brandy."

"And?"

"We knocked over your table."

"And?"

"We broke your vase."

"Good riddance. Lady Catherine picked it. Thoroughly hideous."

"Agreed."

"And?"

"We got mud on your couch?"

"And?"

"I think I lost some hairpins in the couch… or on the floor… or maybe they're under the table?"

"And?"

"My valet is probably worried about me. Maybe even my aunt. Hmmm… I wonder if Anne missed me at breakfast."

"And?"

"I believe I may have tracked some mud on the floor, as I didn't clean my boots very well last night."

"And?"

"I may have neglected to tell Colonel Fitzwilliam where I went last night."

"And?"

"I think the pig may have gotten out of the garden."

"And?"

"This blanket is a bit of a mess. I blame the gentleman's boots."

"AND?"

"I may have missed breakfast at Rosings, and quite forgot to tuck Colonel Fitzwilliam in."

"AAAANNNNND?"

"Let's see, what are we missing?... Brandy… Table… Vase…. Valet… Boots… Cousin… Pig… Mud… Blanket… I think that about covers it. Oh, Wait! Now I remember. We are engaged!"