Author's Note: I've gone back and fixed the dates in my copy, but I haven't done it here. I will eventually update it on here, but not until I have finished the story. As always, I love to hear your feedback!

Chapter 35
Wednesday, 18 March 1812
London

Two letters arrived at Darcy House on Wednesday morning. The first, from Mr. Bennet himself, was a great surprise as it was almost an apology for his failure to agree to Darcy's request for Elizabeth's hand in December. In it, he acknowledged what he had read about the pair in the society pages, as well as Mr. Bennet's reflections about the affection he had occasionally seen between the pair.

Despite his insistence that Darcy leave the area after refusing the younger gentleman's suit, Bennet had seen the couple together and listened to what they said, even though he ultimately ignored it all when making his proclamations. He also acknowledged what he had heard from Phillips and the housekeeper, which surprised the couple almost as much as the letter.

Mrs. Hill wrote the second letter. In it, she explained her odd interaction with the master on Saturday before detailing how they had found him collapsed in the office on Sunday morning. The apothecary was summoned, and after reviving Mr. Bennet, he declared him well enough, though he suggested the gentleman seek out a physician. In the apothecary's admittedly limited knowledge, he believed the cause of the collapse was likely a bad heart. It was possible that a physician could diagnose him more thoroughly, but for now, he had diagnosed a tincture containing small amounts of foxglove. Bennet was carefully warned about the dosage, as were Mr. and Mrs. Hill.

This letter directly opposed her master's orders, but she felt that her "Miss Lizzy" ought to know about her father's health. Regardless of their present schism, the two had always been close. Mrs. Hill did recognise that it was Mr. Bennet's selfishness and efforts to keep the new Mr. and Mrs. Darcy apart that had caused this break, but still, if there was any chance of a resolution between them, she thought it ought to be attempted.

"What do you think, my dearest?" Darcy asked his wife after reading the letter.

Elizabeth sighed heavily, leaning over to rest her head awkwardly against his chest. She brought her hands up to cover her face and took a minute to breathe slowly before finally answering. "I find it difficult to know what to say or do. I do not want my father to die with us still at odds, but I do not know from this that his death is imminent. He has also not truly apologised for his actions in December, and he does not even acknowledge how he used me to run the estate to have more time with his books."

Darcy shifted slightly to embrace his wife better. "For some reason, it is particularly difficult for most men to acknowledge when they are wrong. Can you fathom how challenging it was for me to admit my errors to Bingley and then seek you out and do the same? In between those moments, I ended up confessing all to Richard. Though he was not the one I wronged, it was still challenging to admit how arrogant I had become and how mistaken I was during my initial visit to Netherfield. I am not absolving your father, but only to point out that men, in particular, have been taught to never admit to a wrong and to merely gloss over them."

Turning in his arms, she frowned up at him. "Do you think a woman has any less pride? I know that you and I reconciled fairly quickly, considering everything between us, but we were aided by dreams that had already caused us both to re-evaluate what we knew about the other. Do you recall the vehemence with which I refused you at Hunsford? Even though that never came about, I can still recall my mortification at realising I was wrong about your character. Had we met a few months later, perhaps, I would have had a difficult time even speaking to you again. In fact, do you recall that I dreamed about meeting you again at Pemberley with my aunt and uncle? I would have been hesitant and embarrassed, most unlike myself …" She felt him chuckle beneath her and lifted a hand to caress his cheek.

"Anyway," she continued, "anyone with even a modicum of pride would find it difficult to admit to an error, but is it not a mark of maturity to own up to the things we have done that are wrong? Should we not learn and grow from our mistakes and do what we can to remedy them? Not brush them under the rug and pretend they do not exist. I have been with my cousins often enough to recognise it as a tactic of a small child."

Darcy grimaced even as he leaned down to kiss his wife's forehead. "I know, dearest, and I am not excusing his behaviour at all." He sighed, "I suppose I am trying to smooth things over for you a little. My father died when our relationship was in a difficult place. We were not able to make things right before he died, and it is something I have always regretted."

She snuggled back into him. "I am sorry, Will." Blowing out a breath, she closed her eyes for a moment. "Is it wrong to expect more? Or should I be content with whatever I receive? Is his illness a good reason to forgive him and forget what he did?"

He tightened his arms. "I will support whatever you decide, Liz. It may not be possible to fully reconcile, but perhaps you can find a way to make things easier between the two of you. Maybe you can begin by replying to his letter and go from there."

"I will think about it a day or two before I reply. Since Mrs. Hill was told not to write to me, I will be sure not to mention I know about his collapse. When we go to Netherfield in May, we can try to meet with him then. That is, if he even replies to my letter. There is the chance that he simply does not acknowledge anything I send; he has always been a poor correspondent and may not feel it worth the bother."

Darcy nodded but did not reply. Truly, he thought there was little he could say that would bring her any comfort. Instead, they remained for some time in companionable silence until, soon, their conversation drifted to other matters. Before either was ready, Elizabeth's maid came to inform her that it was time to dress for the ball they were to attend that evening. They had attended dinners the previous two nights, while Elizabeth had gone about with Lady Matlock on Monday to pay calls and then joined her at Matlock house to receive calls on Tuesday. That morning, they visited the modiste once again and visited a tea shop where they were greeted by several other patrons. This afternoon was the first time since Sunday they had a moment to relax together, and they were reluctant to give it up.

They each sighed deeply as they began to stand, laughing at their similar reactions. "Easter is not far away, and we will put our foot down with my aunt when we return from Rosings. We will also depart for Pemberley entirely after we visit Netherfield instead of returning to London," Darcy said after a brief kiss. "I do understand the purpose of enduring this for a time, but neither of us will be able to endure it for months on end."

Elizabeth's only reply was a brief kiss that quickly turned into something more. Their dressing was delayed a bit, but their servants were very diligent in their tasks and had them ready on time.

Saturday, 21 March 1812

Richard Fitzwilliam left Rosings somewhat reluctantly. Since she had made her proposal a little over a week ago, he had begun to view her in a different light. Always before, she had merely been a cousin, destined for Darcy or spinsterhood. Before Darcy met Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam had almost believed his cousins would have eventually caved to Lady Catherine's demand that they marry, especially the longer Darcy went without finding his own bride.

However, in part due to Anne's increased confidence and health, he began to view her as a woman and not the sickly cousin he was forced to entertain so his cousin could avoid raising his aunt's expectations.

There was a small part of him that had been wanting to leave the army for some time now. Like Anne, he was intrigued by the obvious affection between Darcy and Elizabeth and wondered what it would be like to love someone that much or to be loved in return. He wondered if he and Anne would ever have a relationship that approached theirs or if what Darcy and Elizabeth had achieved was something unique and rare.

This thought accompanied him to London and took him directly to Darcy House, instead of the barracks. He still had his own room their, and since Darcy and Elizabeth were out, pulled Darcy's valet into his own service to help him wash and dress in clean clothes. He settled himself in the library with a drink and a book that was largely ignored as he considered what to say to his cousin.

Finally, Darcy strode in, having been warned by his staff that the colonel had arrived that afternoon. "Richard, I am surprised to see you here. I thought you had to report to your barracks this afternoon."

"I informed my commander I would return tomorrow night instead," Fitzwilliam replied. "I … I needed to speak to you."

Darcy eyed his cousin carefully, arching his eyebrow in a way that reminded Fitzwilliam of Elizabeth. He laughed. "It is true; married couples soon begin to look like each other. I have witnessed Lizzy adopt that same expression with much greater success."

Shaking his head at this and attempting not to grin, something that had been far more difficult since returning to Hertfordshire in December. "What do you need, Fitzwilliam?"

Fitzwilliam sighed heavily, finally showing his cousin that he was, in fact, deeply troubled. "Anne and I spoke of … something … several times in the last week, and I … well, I wanted to ask what you thought."

"She suggested the two of you wed? It would allow you to retire from the military and protect Anne from fortune hunters," Darcy replied.

His mouth dropped open in surprise. "How … how did you know?"

Darcy smiled. "I did not. It was Elizabeth who said something to me. She noticed that Anne seemed to admire you and almost jealously watched you as you danced with other ladies at your mother's ball. When we spoke of marriage once, years ago, she told me then she had no desire to marry me — I was too serious for her — but she would not mind marrying you, should you ever offer to her. I thought nothing of it then, but when Elizabeth mentioned what she noticed, I recalled what she said all those years ago."

If possible, Fitzwilliam looked even more surprised, and Darcy struggled with the desire to laugh uproariously at his cousin. It was rare that he took Fitzwilliam by surprise, and he relished that his cousin had missed what he — well, his wife, but they were a pair now — saw so clearly.

After several moments of his cousin opening and closing his mouth as though he could not form the proper words, Darcy took compassion on him and assisted him. "Are you considering it?"

"Yes," was the quick reply. "But is it unfair to Anne to marry for material reasons? I would be marrying her to protect her, yes, but I would also be marrying her so I could retire and live on the estate. What if I never come to love her? What if I meet someone else once we are wed? What if I inadvertently injure Anne in some way?"

"That you are worried about these things tells me you care for Anne. I married for a deep love, a love that has only grown since we wed. However, what we have differs from many of those in the ton. You and Anne already have a relationship and genuinely care for each other; perhaps that can turn into love with some time and effort. Despite the short time we have been married, I know that loving my wife takes time and effort. When we do not spend time with each other, we are more inclined to be short-tempered with each other. We have already had a few spectacular arguments, but they have been resolved with love and understanding. However, I am uncertain I am the best one to advise you, nor do I think your parents would be able to be unbiased enough to tell you what you truly need to hear. Is there someone you could ask who has a relationship more along the lines of what you and Anne might share?"

Fitzwilliam thought about it for several moments. "I know a few who have married with affection but not the overwhelming love you and Lizzy share. Perhaps I will speak to them. But I admit that hearing you say it takes effort makes me feel like it is possible to build upon what we already have. Though it may never reach the level of what you and your wife have, we could be happy, I think."

Darcy nodded, cuffed his cousin on the shoulder, and stood to exit. "We are scheduled to attend a dinner tonight. I need to see if my wife is home so we can spend a few minutes together before we go out again. I love your mother, Richard, but I will be delighted when we can leave London behind."