At her father's comment, Elizabeth froze. "Sir?"

Mr. Bennet turned towards his second eldest, but inherently favorite daughter, and tapped his forefinger on his desk firmly. "Are you not marrying Mr. Darcy in three days time? Or have I misunderstood and has the gentleman come for Jane or maybe Lydia? Although I find the man disagreeable, I can't imagine him a glutton for punishment."

Elizabeth swallowed. Three days. "I am to marry Mr. Darcy." She swallowed again, attempting and failing to dislodge the lump in her throat. "I did not know it was to be Saturday, however."

Her father tutted, gesturing for her to sit in one of a pair of worn armchairs. He followed her lead, immediately taking her hands in his. "Elizabeth, you must end this ruse. The poor fellow believes you serious in marrying him."

Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly and then opened them again to study his face a moment. "I am serious, father. I am to marry Mr. Darcy." She paused another moment to add, "I must marry Mr. Darcy."

At the additional emphasis Mr. Bennet stood abruptly. "Do you mean to say the gentleman has taken liberties with you?" His usually kind and tired eyes flashed angrily. Elizabeth had never seen her father with a temper before, no more so than being annoyed with his youngest daughters. At that moment, he looked ready to kill her betrothed.

She also stood and placed a calming hand upon his arm. "No, Papa, do not be so alarmed. Mr. Darcy took no liberties with me." Elizabeth took a breath for courage. "He is…we…" Sighing, she spit out, "Rather, we took liberties from one another. Just a kiss," she added hastily. "But we were seen." Elizabeth sat down again, looking at her hands. "The engagement was my idea. Mr. Darcy left the choice to me."

Mr. Bennet remained frozen for a long minute before sitting down again, breath rushing from his lungs as if he forgot the motion. "Indeed," he replied in thought. "Indeed."

They sat in uncomfortable silence for such a length of time that Elizabeth was not sure if several minutes or much more had passed. And just as she was about to brace herself for her father's disappointment for the rest of her days, he suddenly caught her hands in his and waited until her eyes rose to meet hers. "Lizzie," he began, clearing his throat of unexpected emotion. "Lizzie…"

But neither were able to continue as Mrs. Bennet, Lydia, and Kitty burst into the room. Mary no doubt was studying somewhere, and Jane remained in London with her aunt and uncle. Jane, Elizabeth thought painfully, as she watched the hysteria unfold before her. I must have Jane.

Her correspondence to her elder sister must wait until she could circumvent the family before her, and by what drama was gathering already with nary a word from her or Mr. Bennet as of yet, it would be a long while until Elizabeth could write her letter to Jane.

Elizabeth remained seated ready to take on her mother and younger sisters. She knew almost immediately how this would play out; Mr. Darcy's fortune being the main reason for outcry and rejoicing. And her sisters did not disappoint.

"Ten thousand a year!" cried Kitty, dancing around Elizabeth's chair. "Whatever will you do with it all, Lizzie?"

Lydia joined in, giggling. "I daresay she better share it with us! Can you imagine the new gowns we shall have? The bonnets?"

Kitty gasped. "Just picture our rooms at Pemberley!"

"And the gentlemen who will want our company!"

The giggles grated on her nerves, but Elizabeth continued to wait on the worst to be - her mother. And yet she waited. And waited, until finally she looked up to see Mrs. Bennet standing before her, a most peculiar look upon her face. "Mama?" she asked uncertainly.

Mrs. Bennet sat next to her second eldest, but inherently least favored daughter since she had nothing in common with someone with such good sense. But quietly, she slid her hands across Elizabeth's and stared at her in the most extreme fashion. "Lizzie," she began, her voice hoarse, "Lizzie, I implore you. Do not marry without affection."

Lydia and Kitty were still busy romping around them and exclaiming each new idea such money would provide them, so they did not hear their mama, but Mr. Bennet must have as he clutched the door frame and his eyes shone.

But Elizabeth paid him no mind. "Mama? I assumed you would be delighted." She attempted a small smile. "He does have quite the estate, so I am told."

Mrs. Bennet shook her head in frustration. "But you do not care for the man, Elizabeth. You know him to be proud and disagreeable. Marriage without affection, or at least the possibility of its growth is not worth a shilling." She glanced at Mr. Bennet before sighing and grasping her daughter's hands tightly. "Do you care for Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth looked down at their entangled fingers and let silence tell her answer. "Do you at least believe you could care for him one day?"

Elizabeth allowed herself a moment to reflect on what she had buried deep inside - the kiss she shared with Darcy. She had previously convinced herself that the feelings she had felt in his arms must have belonged to the hate she held for him in her heart and nothing more. Hate could become passionate, she wagered, but could that passion adapt?

Elizabeth smiled again, remembering her conversation with Charlotte and the remnants of the kiss inkling in her head. She must give Darcy the chance to prove his worth as a husband. He now knew the offenses she held against him. Perhaps he would change for his wife. "I do believe I may be able to care for him some day, Mama."

At that, all the worry vanished from Mrs. Bennet's face and she jumped to her feet to join Lyndia and Kitty in their money dance. Elizabeth watched them while shaking her head in amusement, but she will forever keep a place in her heart for her silly mother and how she put Elizabeth before fortune.

Three days was hardly enough time to prepare properly for a ball let alone a wedding. My wedding, Elizabeth shivered. But as she was not the type to dwell, she tried to find the good in what Saturday would bring, such as the joy it brought her mother, who was happily overcome with the nerves of such an occasion. She also looked forward to Jane arriving, but she had yet to hear from her.

Then, finally, very late on Friday, Elizabeth received a message that Jane and her aunt and uncle were leaving for Hertfordshire at once, having been delayed receiving her letter as they took a week-long trip to the seaside. Although Elizabeth was relieved to hear that Jane was on her way, she knew it would not likely be in time for the ceremony early the following morning; Charlotte will have to stand by her side.

Saturday bloomed bright and fresh, the air thick with floral and rich scents. Elizabeth donned her best gown - the one from the Netherfield ball - and sat impatiently in her bedroom to be collected. Sounds of scurrying could be heard below her, along with exclamations of stress from her mother. She imagined her father was also hidden away for solitude until it was time to leave for the church.

The latch of her door clicked and Elizabeth looked up and smiled when she found Charlotte walking in, closing the door behind her. She sat down next to her on the edge of the bed and gathered their hands together. "Are you nervous, Lizzie?" she asked.

Elizabeth chuckled at that. "That would be an understatement, I daresay." She paused a moment before continuing, "Mama was trying to explain some things to me. Some things that happen between a man and his wife once the wedding is over, but she didn't make much sense." She chuckled again, her nerves evident. "It sounded as if Mr. Darcy would act like a man possessed and he would sniff me out as if I were a dog in heat."

A very unladylike laugh erupted from Charlotte before she placed a hand over her mouth. "Dear Lizzie, you grew up surrounded by farms. You must know all mammals behave the same more or less."

Elizabeth blushed a great deal, uneasy at the thought of being mounted like a mare. "She also told me it's quite unpleasant for the lady, but it is my marital duty. It is how I will come to bear children." She lifted her eyes hopefully to Charlotte, waiting in vain for her contradiction but her face fell when her friend nodded.

"Unfortunately so, my dear Lizzie," Charlotte replied. "Tis a woman's duty. I find it best to think of my accomplishments of the day and what tomorrow may bring." She lowered her voice and smiled. "You shall be fine. It does not last long. Just allow him to do the deed and then you may rest knowing you fulfilled your part."

Elizabeth swallowed hard and nodded, silent as she attempted to picture what this task may entail, but she didn't have long before Mrs. Bennet came rushing in, declaring it time to leave for the church.

A flood of emotion swept over Elizabeth as the organ music began. At the peak of the seemingly endless aisle stood Charlotte, waiting to assist her in whatever she may need. A large brandy may do, she thought with a grimace to herself. Next she could see the man across from her, Mr. Bingley. Such a surprise to see him, her heart leapt at the thought that Jane would soon see him again. As she walked slowly with her father, she started planning out all that would need to be done to prod the pair back together. Her sister's happiness depended on it.

Just as soon as Elizabeth's schemes developed into a ruse to sit the pair together at dinner tonight, her gaze drifted to Darcy, and her breath momentarily hitched. He looked devastatingly handsome, she must admit. The green color of his coat brought out the blue of his eyes, and those eyes sought only her.

Darcy could not look away. However much the last few days had been agony for him, he simply could not stop the rush of affection for his betrothed - no matter the circumstances of their impending marriage. Seeing her across the church as she made her way towards him, Darcy felt his love for her deepen in a way he could not describe. Almost feral in his want of her, he thought, she is to be mine.

Thoughts of why they were marrying were strangely forgotten by the pair. Curiously, Elizabeth felt a deep and utter calm as she finally met Darcy, softly putting her hand into his outstretched one. Time seemed to have stood still for them, until finally Elizabeth blinked and the moment was gone. Darcy closed his eyes briefly, attempting to memorize her face at that moment. He felt her move forward and he followed instinctively, but then Elizabeth paused, causing Darcy to stop in his tracks and look to her again. "Miss Bennet?"

Chewing on her lip, she abruptly blurted out quietly so that only he could hear, "What is your given name?"

Darcy blinked in surprise, but answered her automatically. "It is Fitzwilliam."

A small, crooked smile played across her lips before she repeated it and turned towards the rector again. "Fitzwilliam."

His heart thudded rapidly in his chest when she said it, but he took the opportunity to heed her playfulness and ran with it. "I am sorry, madam," he murmured in her ear. "But did you just smirk?"

Elizabeth scoffed lightly, fighting her smile, refusing to meet his eyes. "Sir, I cannot know what you mean."

"Do you find my name amusing? Or simply surprising?"

"I merely requested the name of the man I am about to marry." She glanced at him again through her lashes, and Darcy felt his breath catch again in his lungs. But when she next saw the clergyman and blanched, the warmth in his chest dissipated once more realizing how wretched the idea of marrying him was to her. Darcy turned stiffly back towards the altar.

Jane, Elizabeth thought as soon as the rector came into view. Tears pricked her eyes knowing that Jane did all she could to get here in time, but it wasn't enough. Her dreams of finding love and sharing the moment with her best friend vanished. But she squared her shoulders back and continued to her place. She must press on and focus on what she had. The last few moments with Darcy felt almost akin to what contentment could be with him. She must latch onto that moment instead of what could have been.

The ceremony felt equal parts an eternity and over in an instant. Before she knew it, Elizabeth was repeating words to Darcy and vice versa, and then he kissed her knuckles with a brush of his lips. In that moment, they eyes locked, and she could feel his breath of her skin. In that moment, she was not sorry to be at the altar with him.

And in the next, he was leading her back down the aisle and outside to greet the guests as they followed. The tiny church was almost at capacity, and it was only after a dozen or so people before Elizabeth felt she had space again to breathe properly.

Darcy bowed slightly to a pair of well wishers as they departed and murmured to Elizabeth before their next greeters. "I am sorry that Miss Bennet was not here for you today."

Elizabeth met his eyes in surprise, but gave him a small smile in return. "I thank you, sir. I did miss Jane terribly this morning, but all will be well. She actually -"

"Mrs. Darcy!" Bingley exclaimed heartily, making his way towards them outside the church to kiss her hand. "I do hope I am one of the first to call you such! I look forward to visiting you at Pemberley!"

Elizabeth grinned and curtsied while Darcy remained silent, although she could detect a slightly amused tugging at his lips. "Thank you, sir. It is very nice to see you again. It has been some time." She fought the urge to look sideways to her husband.

"Indeed it has," Bingley replied, his complexion reddening slightly. "Speaking of which..." He turned towards Darcy. "I shall be off." Looking back to Elizabeth, he added, "I am sorry to miss your wedding lunch, but I must make haste to London." His eyes flicked back to Darcy. "Urgent business." Darcy nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment.

Elizabeth watched the exchange, ice flooding her bloodstream at the implication. Jane was due to arrive at any moment this afternoon, just in time for Bingley to leave Hertfordshire in the other direction. She hardly heard what he said next in farewell or felt Darcy take her hand and place it in the crook of his elbow, leading her towards the carriage.

Inside, she watched Darcy with narrowed eyes, hate for him flooding her heart once more. He had not changed. He, her husband, remained just as hateful, stubborn and proud as ever.