"Mr. Darcy, I realize that the combined results of early love and the shame of elopement must be very great indeed, but do you truly intend to go through with all this? The rest of your family must voice strong objections to these plans when they hear of them."
Darcy looked up from the letter he was finishing.
"Mr. Bennet, I mean to do nothing less than what I have proposed. It is my resolution and I will not be swayed, either by you or any of my relations."
"Unless I am very much mistaken, it was not a condolence call your aunt Lady Catherine called to make upon my daughter this morning."
Darcy's lips tightened and a look of fierceness came upon his features.
"Perhaps not, but you can be assured, my dear sir, that I will not suffer my aunt to interfere in the slightest with my gifts to my wife's family. I will ensure that she sees that it is in her own interest to comply rather than hinder."
Mr. Bennet shrugged and easily surrendered the point.
"Thank you, Mr. Bennet. Now our first move must be to announce the marraige —"
"Ah, I have you there, Mr. Darcy. It is already done, the announcement was in the papers this morning."
Mr. Bennet produced a copy of the Times, folded to the very page, and proudly displayed it.
"I see, thank you again, I suppose it was this information that occasioned my aunt's call upon my wife this morning." He looked it over. "It seems correct, except insofar as I am not dead."
Mr. Bennet gasped in embarrassment. "Indeed, sir, you are not. That shall be remedied directly."
"The announcement, I hope you mean, sir."
Mr. Bennet chuckled.
"That I do, sir. Losing you once was hard enough upon my daughter. I do not think that early widowhood suits her whatsoever."
Darcy looked at him intently.
"I am sorry for her suffering, and what you suffered on her behalf."
"Think nothing of it, my good sir. You were deceased at the time."
At this, Darcy very nearly smiled.