Darcy slept late on Monday morning. Exhausted by the emotional gamut he had experienced, besides missing sleep completely on Saturday night and not crawling between the sheets until after two o'clock on Sunday morning, his body cried out for the replenishment slumber afforded while his soul rejoiced in its first ease since the distressing events that had occurred on the night of the ball. The sun had long climbed high in the sky by the time he awakened and he stretched, squinting at the bright light peeping through the heavy closed draperies. When a brief glance at the clock on the fireplace mantel announced that it was past the noon hour, he rose and rang for his servant, then dressed and made his way below stairs, hoping expressly to discover Elizabeth within the breakfast room.

Only a serving girl stood therein and she immediately offered to fetch him a plate of food. He refused except for a cup of coffee and then asked the whereabouts of Mr. and Mrs. Collins. Told that they were in the drawing room, Darcy took his coffee and approached the room, anticipating not only their presence, but that of Elizabeth as well. Disappointment reigned at the sight of the married couple alone.

Mrs. Collins sat on the chaise, plying her needle to her embroidery, while her husband sat nearby reading to her from Fordyce's sermons, in particular, the one pertaining to the necessity of wives submitting to their husbands in all things. He paused in mid-sentence at the sight of Darcy and immediately jumped up and bowed several times, exclaiming, "Mr. Darcy! Will you not join us? I was just enlightening Mrs. Collins on yesterday's sermon, which she had to miss due to her health."

Darcy bowed briefly to him and then to Mrs. Collins. "I trust you are feeling better this morning, Mrs. Collins."

"I am, Mr. Darcy," Charlotte replied, and then noticed his bandaged hand. "But your hand, sir - it would appear that you are injured."

Darcy dismissed it with a quick gesture. "It is of little matter; please do not concern yourself." He looked around the room for some sign that Elizabeth might have been there, but saw no such indication. He then addressed Mr. Collins, "You said you were reading from Fordyce's sermons, sir?"

"Why, yes," the parson answered quickly, delighted to have this esteemed person's attention. "The bishop's Sunday service pertained to this very subject."

"And that was?"

"The sovereign duty of wives to be in subjection to their husbands, one that I concur with wholly."

"No doubt," Darcy said, shooting a brief glance at Charlotte. "I wonder, Mr. Collins, have you never shared that particular lesson with my aunt?"

Mr. Collins blinked in quick succession at the very thought. "Why, no, sir, I had not thought to do so. Is it your opinion that I should, Mr. Darcy?"

"By all means. Lady Catherine is excessively attentive to all proper feminine conduct, you know."

"Oh, there is no doubt, sir. She is perfectly attuned to even the slightest nuance of everything fine and proper . . ."

"I am certain she would appreciate your instruction on the subject."

Mr. Collins became quite excited at this thought and began to flutter around. "Indeed? Mr. Darcy, I cannot begin to thank you for alerting me to such a notion. I shall share my copy of Fordyce with her immediately upon my return to Rosings."

"Do you think it wise to wait that long, sir?"

"Why, I had not thought about it. Would you have me send my copy to her by post?"

"I should hate to see you deprived of your own copy. How should you continue to instruct Mrs. Collins? Might it be possible for you to purchase another edition here at Brighton and mail it to Lady Catherine?"

"An excellent idea, sir, I must say! I shall attend to it with all haste. There is a fine establishment of booksellers next to the chemist in Brighton. I shall call there this very day."

"I would urge you not to waste a moment, Mr. Collins. Feel free to depart this very moment if you desire."

"I will, sir, I will! Your condescending attention to alert me to such a need is to be greatly commended." With further ministrations of excessive gratitude and much bowing, Mr. Collins backed out of the room.

Charlotte said nothing, for she had all that she could do to contain the mirth that threatened to erupt upon her countenance at any moment. Keeping her head lowered, she applied herself to separating her floss with great diligence.

Darcy walked to the window and looked out as he finished his coffee. Then, with the greatest attempt at nonchalance, he turned to Charlotte and asked, "Is Miss Lucas about or have she and Miss Bennet gone out?"

"My sister has gone to call upon Lydia Bennet, but Elizabeth did not accompany her."

"And how is Miss Bennet this morning? I trust she, too, is feeling somewhat better."

Charlotte looked up, attempting to read his countenance. She wondered with what regard he now held Lizzy. Was his question simply polite conversation or had she detected a note of true concern within his tone? "She is not ill, Mr. Darcy, if that is what you ask, at least not physically. At the moment, one could hardly expect her to enjoy a vigorous spirit."

Darcy frowned and made no reply for a few moments. He returned from the window and seated himself on a chair across from Charlotte. "Mrs. Collins, I am concerned . . . that is, I fear . . ." He stood then once again and walked to the fireplace. "Has she left her chamber? My servant told me earlier that Miss Bennet had remained in seclusion all of yesterday."

"Yes, that is correct, but she is up and about today. In fact, did you not notice her trunk and other belongings stacked in the hall?"

"Her trunk? I do not understand."

"Elizabeth is going home."

"To Longbourn? When?"

"On the afternoon coach," Charlotte answered, paying particular attention to how he received this news.

"This very day! But why?" Darcy asked a little too quickly.

Charlotte sighed and pressed her lips together. She knew Lizzy would not want her to reveal certain things to Mr. Darcy, and yet her pragmatic mind told her that if her friend had any chance of securing this handsome, privileged man, now was the time. She said, "Elizabeth believes she has brought disgrace on this house and that neither your aunt nor you would wish her to remain here after the events of Saturday night."

"But that is preposterous!" Darcy cried. "I have no wish to see her leave Brighton! Why would she think such a thing?" He began to pace back and forth, twisting the signet ring round and round on his finger. "What could possibly give her the idea that I want her gone?"

Charlotte took a deep breath and then said, "Evidently it was the look on your face last night, sir."

"What?"

"She told me that you came upon her unexpectedly late last night and that she could not bear to see the expression on your countenance. It told her more plainly than words that she should leave Waverley."

"But she was mistaken!" Darcy cried. "Utterly mistaken!"

"I suggested that, Mr. Darcy, but she would have none of it. I have sent Maria to fetch her sister, hoping she might aid us in keeping Elizabeth here, but I fear that her mind is quite made up. In fact, at this very moment she has gone for a last walk on the beach. She loves it so, you know."

Darcy's eyes darted to the windows leading to the ocean. With a hasty bow, he excused himself from Charlotte's presence and departed the room. A smile of satisfaction settled upon her face when she heard the door to the terrace shut firmly behind him.

Lizzy had walked a great distance, so far that she could no longer even see Waverley. There had been no one about on that part of the beach that lay directly below the great house when she had picked her way through the dark stones and first reached the water's edge. Thus, she had removed her shoes and lifted her skirts, feeling free to wade along the edge of the shore but careful to step back quickly when a wavelet approached with any force. She had studied the sand carefully at the place where she had seen Darcy pace back and forth early Sunday morning, but the tide had, of course, long washed his footprints out to sea.

Any sign that he ever stood here has now vanished as far from this shore as his heart has surely vanished from mine, she thought sadly.

When she rounded the curve of the beach and reached the great rock formation on which she had sat before, she had not the heart to climb on it today. The memory of the last time she had descended it, being caught up in Darcy's arms, and the realization that they had almost kissed now washed over her with such force that she felt overcome with weakness. With a certain deadly reality, she understood that never would she know what it was like to be kissed by Darcy. She leaned against the rock to steady herself and placed her face against the cold, rough surface, thinking of the great gulf impassable between them that now existed. I cannot bear the thought that he is alive in this world and thinking ill of me!

She began to cry then, the tears flowing markedly down her cheeks, even though she had promised herself with the morning's sun that she would weep no longer. She left the rock and walked on farther around the bend, unaware of where she was actually going, conscious only of the pain that once again engulfed her, pain she told herself this morning that she had put behind her. Seeing the despair on his face when he came upon her in the early morning hours had driven her not only to escape to her bedchamber, but to the certain realization that all hope with Darcy was gone. He would never be able to accept a woman who had engaged herself to the man he detested most in this life. Once having faced this fact, Lizzy had with the morning light determined to leave Brighton and leave off grieving for what she could never have.

Now, all of her resolve came crashing down around her just as the breakers crashed against the rocky shore. The reality that Darcy was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her, that his understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes flooded her mind. Their union would have been to the great advantage of both; by her ease and liveliness his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgment and knowledge of the world she would have received great benefit. Elizabeth was now convinced that she could be happy only with him, when it was no longer possible that they should wed.

Looking up, she saw that she had stumbled upon a small cove cut far back into the chalk cliffs. Huge stones lined the raised shore and she had to climb to walk along them, while the foamy waves splashed below. Weary more from her thoughts than from physical exertion, she found a place to sit and stayed there for no little time, reliving the tumultuous evening at Colonel Forster's ball. What could she have done differently? How could she have prevented the shocking events that happened? Over and over she played the scene in her mind and could find no solution. At last, the warmth of the day, along with the hypnotic play of the ocean caused her eyelids to grow heavy and she was soon lulled into sleep.

Some time later Lizzy awoke with a start, wondering how long she had lain there. She arose and dusted the sand from her skirts, aware that her gown was now quite damp from the spray of the surf. Her curls had come undone and, although she attempted to re-pin them, the humidity would have its way and she knew her appearance must be in much disarray. Fearing she would miss the afternoon coach, she began walking back hurriedly, suddenly aware that she was barefoot Now, where had she left her slippers? Just as she neared the bend in the shoreline, where stood her favourite great rock formation, she was shocked to see a figure, a man's figure, leaning against it, his face turned from her while he scanned the beach. As she narrowed her eyes, straining to see, apprehension overtook her when she realized it was Darcy! No! It cannot be! I cannot face him again!

Lizzy turned around and began to walk hurriedly back toward the cove, but not before she saw him look up and recognize her.

"Miss Bennet!" he called.

Instead of responding, she walked faster. He called again and as she could hear that he was gaining on her, she stopped and turned, acknowledging him. "Mr. Darcy."

"I must talk to you," he said as he neared her.

Shaking her head and backing away from him, she said, "Surely, sir, there is nothing we can say now that either would want to hear."

"I disagree. I ask that you listen to what I have to say!"

"Sir, I cannot bear your reproaches. Pray, do not impose upon me to listen, for there are no reprimands you may utter that I have not already told myself! I am leaving Brighton. You will never have to see me again. I beg you, let me go in peace!" She began to run from him then, her breath coming hard and quick, the panting sound filling her ears along with the cry of a seagull overhead and the relentless pounding of the surf against the rocks below. She had almost reached the part of the cove where she must begin to climb, when she felt his hand catch hers and his strong arms pull her back to him. As though she were little more than a helpless kitten, he gathered her in, enfolding her within his mighty embrace.

He turned her face, forcing her to meet his eyes, his voice demanding, "Elizabeth! Run from Brighton if you will, but do not run from me. No matter where you go, I will follow. I can run harder and faster than you and I will not give over. You cannot escape, for I will not let you go. I love you, Elizabeth!"

"How can you, sir?" she cried out with a great sob.

"How can I not?" he responded. "I cannot eat or drink or sleep or even breathe without loving you! I love you more than I love my own life and I will declare it over and over until you cease your running and acknowledge it as truth."

She could do nothing but cry, the tears streaming down her face while he held her head against his heart, caressing her hair with one hand, while he pulled her body close to his. "Do not cry, my darling. Pray, do not cry. Say you love me. Say my name, Elizabeth. Say, 'William,' say, 'William, I love you.' Please, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, will you not say it and relieve my suffering?"

Elizabeth struggled to breathe for she felt her heart would surely burst, as she raised her face to look into his eyes. Could this truly be happening? Was this not a dream from which she would certainly awaken? "I do, William. I do love you so very much! William, I love you!"

Heaven touched Darcy at that moment and he felt such wonder, such sublime joy that he could not speak another word. Slowly and with great tenderness he took her face in his strong hands and lifted her lips to his. Softly he touched his mouth to hers and at last tasted her essence. Elizabeth felt a warmth well up in her from so deep within she knew not what she did. She gave herself to him wholly and completely, her lips parting willingly as he deepened his kiss. His arms went around her waist then and he pressed her to him as though he could make them into one person, and she willingly responded with an equal passion of her own.

The ocean roared and the seagulls sang and at that moment in time, at last all was right in their world.

Sometime later, Darcy and Elizabeth sat side by side on the great rock that they both claimed as theirs. He talked with ease and animation, relating how he and Fitzwilliam had played upon it as boys and made her laugh at his tales of how his cousin had more than once pushed him off into the surf below. She talked of growing up with four sisters, the summer her father had taken them all to Ramsgate and how Kitty had escaped from her care and run into the ocean, and the screams they endured when she discovered that seawater stung when it washed into her eyes. Conversation now overflowed between these two previously taciturn individuals. As so easily happens when a man and woman first begin to love, they could not share their lives with each other fast enough to achieve satisfaction. Each one expressed the greatest delight and attention to the slightest detail spoken by the other. Their hunger for sharing their history one with the other could not be satiated.

That was not the only hunger that needed to be tamed. They had resorted to talking when it was obvious that their physical craving for each other must be diverted. Darcy had kissed Elizabeth over and over after her declaration of love, unable to quench his desire, until at length he feared he would lose control over his passion. She had felt none of the distaste for his kisses that she had experienced when Wickham had pushed himself upon her. Instead, she was quite helpless to comprehend her own wild abandon for his touch and she could not summon the effort to step away from his embrace. At last, they had walked up and down the shore arm in arm, talking of their great desire for each other, of when each had first suspected that they loved the other, and Darcy, in particular, berated himself for not first acting in a manner that would have induced her to think well of him. Elizabeth, in turn, blamed herself for not from the beginning recognizing his character as that of a true gentleman. This brought up the incidence of Darcy's first proposal and he, once again, apologized for the thoughtless manner in which he had assumed she would be overjoyed at his invitation to become his wife. Elizabeth attempted to make amends for abusing him so abominably in her refusal, but he would not have it.

"What did you say of me that I did not deserve? For, though your accusations were ill-founded, formed on mistaken premises, my behaviour to you at the time merited the severest reproof. It was unpardonable and I cannot think of it without abhorrence."

When she attempted to affix more of the blame upon herself, he had kissed away her arguments until she laughingly agreed that they would not quarrel as to whom belonged the greater share of blame. He had then led her to the great black rock that they both loved, and after scanning the horizon to make sure they were quite alone, he lifted her to the first level and then joined her as they climbed around it until they were now sitting side by side, facing the sea. They were completely hidden from any who might wander down the beach and unless a great ship appeared out of nowhere, they were visible from the ocean by only the gulls and pelicans.

At length, their conversation lapsed for a while and they were content to just watch the whitecaps below, basking in the warmth of the sun and the nearness of each other. Darcy placed his arm around her and she lay her head on his shoulder. Never had either found such contentment, such joy in the simple act of being.

At last Darcy spoke again, "Elizabeth, we have declared our love for each other, but you have yet to say the words I long to hear."

She raised her head and looked deep into his eyes, at a loss as to what he referred.

"When will you become my wife?"

A smile graced her lips, but then she sighed and looked away.

"Elizabeth?" he asked, gently turning her face back to his.

She looked down before speaking. "Before I answer that, we must talk about this great, awful thing that lies between us."

"I do not understand to what you refer, my love, for as close as we sit, I dare even the slightest hair to push itself between us." He had spoken in jest, but when she did not smile, he, too looked away, well aware of what she referred.

"We must speak of it, William. We cannot deny that it happened nor ignore its consequences. You must have questions of me? How can you not? Ask me, sir. Ask me how I could have behaved so foolishly."

He looked at her directly, holding her face with his hand. "I have no questions, Elizabeth. I cast no stones, for if I had not concealed Wickham's true character from you and your family or from Colonel Forster, none of this would have happened. The cause was due to my own pride, my refusal to warn your father of Wickham's unsavoury past, and I acknowledge that I am responsible for all that has occurred!"

"You are not responsible!" Lizzy cried. "How could you expose your sister's good name in so public a manner? No, I will not have it. I am liable. I was foolish enough to be swayed by Mr. Wickham's easy manners and amiable conversation. My vanity was stroked by his flattery and compliments."

"No," Darcy interrupted, "I will never believe that. Your head is not turned by empty phrases. If I had exhibited even the slightest attempt to charm or win your approval, or at the very least, refrained from slighting you with such rudeness, you would not have been susceptible to his baseless accusations against me. How could I have acted with such atrocity and expected you not to prefer him? Your only fault, Elizabeth, was your ignorance, and you can hardly be blamed for that. Your kind heart was taken in by his lies."

Elizabeth placed her fingers against his lips, attempting to silence him, but he only used the opportunity to kiss her fingertips. She could not help but smile slightly at his affection, but she withdrew her hand and spoke again. "I must speak, sir, and you must listen. I cannot go on without confessing to you all that has happened. Pray, grant me this request and remain silent until I have finished."

A great sadness returned to Darcy's eyes, but he nodded at last and made no further attempt to halt her confession. Elizabeth then told him all. She began with her anger at hearing not long after she had met Wickham, of his false tale about Darcy. Her concern at such injustice was fueled by Darcy's disinterest in her and by the general feeling in Hertfordshire that favoured Wickham. She had found it all too easy to believe him and he, in turn, had played upon her sympathy. She had agreed to the secret engagement by believing another lie, that his progression in the militia was predicated upon his remaining single until he had achieved certain promotions. They had not entered into this agreement long, before Lizzy had serious doubts about the wisdom of having done so. She told of the rumors concerning Mary King and Wickham, plus his public attentions to other women in her presence. The fact that they were separated by her extended stay at Kent had only delayed her ability to act upon her desire to soon be free of him. After arriving in Brighton and confirming the fact that he had most probably attempted another secret engagement with Miss King, Lizzy had told him she wanted out of the betrothal, some seven or eight days before Colonel Forster's ball. Only moments before the colonel had made the public announcement, she had spoken to Wickham for the last time, confirming that the engagement was broken completely. She could not account for the reasoning behind his public humiliation of her other than that of a man angry and scorned.

"That is the whole of it," Lizzy concluded, "unless there are questions you would ask, William."

The scraps of Wickham's letter burned inside Darcy's breast pocket, but he would not mention the question he most wanted answered. He had resolved not to do so and he would stand by his resolution. No matter what had transpired between Wickham and Elizabeth physically, he would not hold it against her. He had silently vowed to bury it deep within his heart and never reproach her with it. Slowly, he removed his arm from around her and withdrew the folded pieces of paper. Tearing them in tiny bits, he flung them into the deep below. "I have no questions, Elizabeth."

"What is that of which you dispose?" she asked, watching him closely.

"Nothing that matters any more, my love. Nothing at all." He drew her close to him and slowly and softly kissed her cheek, her forehead, and then her mouth. Releasing her lips, he once again kissed her cheek and was surprised at encountering the salty taste of her tears. He drew back with a questioning look.

"You will not ask, William, but I must tell you this, even though I have not the slightest desire to do so."

"You do not have to tell me anything more, Elizabeth," he said quietly. "Do you understand me? Nothing at all."

"But you have a right to know, sir, if we are to marry." Darcy looked away then, a great pain arising in his chest. He did not want to hear any further confession. He did not want to know if Wickham had been her lover.

"I hate telling you this, I would rather die than do so, but I am afraid Mr. Wickham pushed his affections upon me."

Darcy closed his eyes in anguish, finding it hard to breathe. "Elizabeth . . ."

"He kissed me, William. I did not like it, but he insisted on doing so." She began to cry softly once more.

Darcy waited for her to continue, all the while holding his breath. When she said no more, with one great, enormous effort he gasped, his chest forcibly expanding in and out. "That is it? That is what you have to tell me?"

"Yes," she murmured, looking up at him, her eyes magnified with fear.

He pulled her to him then, cradling her head against his chest as he kissed the top of her head. "Oh, my dearest girl, it will all be forgotten, for if you will allow me, I shall kiss away any memories you may have of any other man's kisses."

"I shall allow it, sir. In fact, I shall beg for it. I love your kiss, William. You know not how it makes me feel. I never imagined I could be so affected."

Naturally, with such inducement, Darcy could do nothing less than oblige his lady. They continued thus for no little time until at last, he returned to his earlier question. "You still have not answered me, my dear. When will you exchange your name for mine?"

Lizzy bowed her head, fearful of introducing yet one more obstacle to their happiness, but all too aware that it most certainly still existed. "William, how can we marry when I am in such disgrace? You know the price our world exacts from any woman who breaks an engagement and especially one who has been involved in a secret attachment. How can I marry you and with such an association pull you down, as well as your sister? I am willing to bear the censure, but it would break my heart to hurt you or your family in this manner."

A deep frown crossed Darcy's brow. "So, what would you have us do, then - live in sin?"

"Mr. Darcy!" Lizzy's eyes widened in shock at such a suggestion.

"I will not let you go, Elizabeth. If this world, as you put it, will not accept us, then we will strike out for a place that does, for you shall be my wife. Otherwise, I cannot live."

"You cannot be serious, sir. You would not ask me to do such a thing."

"Of course, not," he said with a sigh, "but you must understand how serious I am about marrying you. My wishes in this matter will not be swayed and if society's disapproval is all that I must bear, then that is a small, small price to pay."

"But what about Georgiana? How can we do this to her?"

"You forget, my dear. My sister has already borne her share of humiliation at the hands of Wickham. She would not wish us to sacrifice our happiness for the mere sanction of the world. Now, answer my question once and for all. When will you marry me?"

Elizabeth searched his eyes. Could it be true? Could they actually marry in spite of what she had done? Could she face the condemnation and disapproval that was sure to rain upon them if they married? Would society not deem her a fortune hunter who had discarded a poor soldier for the opportunity of securing a man of Darcy's wealth and stature?

"Elizabeth?" he asked again when she had made no answer.

And then she saw the slight stirrings of fear reflected in his look and she could not bear it. She knew with a certainty that would not be denied that she could do nothing less than devote her life to removing any such alarm, that returning the light to his eyes mattered more than anything and if loving her caused that glow, then she would love him freely and completely, no matter what.

"As soon as you speak to my father, sir, I will marry you. Oh, William, I do not deserve such happiness!" She reached for his face and taking it within both hands, she kissed him tenderly.

He responded eagerly, thrilled at both her answer and her kiss. "You are wrong, my dear. You deserve everything fine and good and I intend to give it to you."

At last, Lizzy suggested that they must return to Waverley, for Charlotte would surely be anxious about her by now. "I have long missed my appointment with the coach to Longbourn, I fear."

Darcy lifted her down from the black rock and once she was in his arms, he could not resist the opportunity of kissing her again. Lizzy's cautious nature would have protested as they now ran the chance of being observed, but his very touch caused her to forget her whereabouts, her name, everything she had ever known except for the exquisite joy she experienced each time he embraced her and looked upon her with those dark eyes filled with love.

As they walked up the coast line, he teased her about her bare feet. "Have you offered your slippers to Neptune, once again, my sweet?"

Lizzy did not even blush this time, such was her ease with his familiarity already established. "No, sir," she retorted with an arch look. "This time I placed them well away from the ocean's grasp." She ran on ahead of him, scanning the black stones farther back from the water's edge for some sign of her shoes. Actually, she did not remember where she had left them, but her pride would not allow her to confess such distraction. With a great sigh of relief, she spotted them wedged between two stones. "Here they are, just where I left them."

"Is that right?" Darcy said. "Just where you left them? I think not, my pretty miss, for I, myself, found them discarded on the sand earlier this afternoon and rescued them from the incoming sea just in time."

"Oh," was all that Lizzy could say.

"Do not fret, my love, for coming upon them gave me great hope that I would eventually discover your whereabouts."

"But how did you know they were mine?"

"Who else strews her shoes here and there so carelessly?"

"I do no such thing, sir!" she cried, pretending to be insulted. She had her slippers on by that time and after tossing her curls at him, she took off running. This proved an invitation impossible to resist by Darcy and he ran after her, his long legs quickly overtaking her. Catching her up in his arms, he lifted her above him and whirled her around and around. She laughed with delight until he slowed and finally standing still, allowed her to slide down into his embrace where he kissed her soundly and more than once.

When the couple finally made their way up the cliff-side steps, Lizzy knew their last playful antics could have been seen by Waverley's inhabitants and she prayed that it was not Mr. Collins's figure that she saw outlined in one of the windows. But then again, she spent no time in worry over it. For now, nothing could disturb her happiness.

At Waverley, however, they were all in uproar, for Maria had just returned from Webster House with the most distressing news.

By the time Darcy and Elizabeth entered the back entrance to Waverley, they were walking side by side in a circumspect manner, cautious to keep their hands to themselves, and endeavoring with great valour to appear exactly the opposite of how they felt. As Darcy, of course, had not yet had opportunity to speak to Mr. Bennet, he and Lizzy had agreed to keep their engagement quiet, as quiet as two people so obviously in love could manage.

Colonel Fitzwilliam was the first to greet them, as it was he who had stood at the window in the salon observing their last loving embrace on the beach. Lizzy had hoped to slip upstairs undetected and change her gown, for it was soiled from the sand and spray of the surf, but it was not to be.

"Miss Bennet," the colonel addressed her, bowing, and then also spoke to Darcy. The expression on his face was genial, but a hint of trouble shadowed his eyes. "I trust you have enjoyed the shore this afternoon."

"Yes, very much, sir, I thank you," Lizzy replied, trying not to blush, for it appeared obvious that he knew more than he said.

"And you, Darcy? Did you find satisfaction this day in nature's gifts?"

Darcy raised his chin, as though he would dare Fitzwilliam to say more. "I did."

The colonel smiled slightly and he and his cousin held each other's gaze in a way that spoke much more than mere words. "I am exceedingly pleased to hear that," he said.

Elizabeth began to make her excuses to go above stairs, but the colonel detained her. A frown knit his brows together as he said, "Miss Bennet, if you please, your immediate presence is needed within the salon. Mr. Collins asks that you join the family posthaste."

Lizzy and Darcy exchanged looks, but they both were at a loss as to any reason for this request. Upon entering the room, she saw Mr. Collins pacing back and forth and Charlotte and Maria sitting side by side, unsettled looks upon their faces. Lizzy went to Charlotte immediately upon seeing her outstretched hands.

"Charlotte, what is wrong? You are not ill, again, I pray."

"No, Lizzy, I am well. Sit with me."

"Cousin Elizabeth, at last you have come," Mr. Collins began. "Maria has just returned from Webster House with the most disturbing report."

"What is it?" Lizzy asked.

"The Forsters have thrown Lydia out of their house!" Mr. Collins dabbed at his brow, for he was once again sweating profusely.

"Lydia!" Lizzy cried. "But why? For what cause?"

"Mr. Collins!" Charlotte interrupted, clearly peeved with his announcement. "They have not thrown Lydia out of anywhere. It is, rather, Mrs. Forster's preference that Lydia stay here at Waverley until she can return to Longbourn."

"I do not understand, Charlotte," Lizzy said. "Has Lydia done something wrong?" She looked from Charlotte to Mr. Collins and then to Colonel Fitzwilliam. It was obvious that all three were embarrassed and none but Mr. Collins was willing to speak. She glanced quickly at Darcy, but his expression was as bewildered as hers.

Mr. Collins opened his mouth, but Charlotte arose and taking Lizzy's arm, she said, "Let us join Lydia above stairs, dear. She can explain this better than any of us." With a look of severity that silenced Mr. Collins, they departed the room.

They discovered Lydia flounced upon Maria's bed, pouting for all to see. "Lizzy!" she cried, upon her sister's entrance. "Oh, Lizzy! You cannot believe how horrible Mrs. Forster has been to me!"

She ran to her older sister's embrace and noting the strained look upon the countenances of both Maria and Charlotte, Elizabeth ushered her sister down the hall and into her own bed chamber, shutting the door firmly behind her.

"Now, Lyddy, do not cry, tell me what is wrong." Elizabeth sat her down on the divan and sitting beside her, took her hand. While Lydia blew her nose and dabbed at her eyes, Lizzy added, "Is it because of me? Have I angered Mrs. Forster by my announcement at the ball? Is she displeased with you because of me?"

"She is unhappy about that, Lizzy, but she is much more displeased about Wickham and me."

"Wickham and you? What do you mean?"

"Well, I may as well start at the beginning. She and Colonel Forster went off to Eastbourne on Sunday to visit her sister and she flatly refused to let me accompany her. She said, 'I want nothing to do with either of those Bennet sisters today!' Can you believe she spoke in such a hateful way, Lizzy? And I thought she considered me as her particular friend!"

"Go on," Lizzy interrupted. "What happened when the Forsters returned?"

"Actually, something happened before they returned. I was quite lonely, you know, so I sent one of the servants with a message for Wickham and he came over and kept me company on Sunday."

"Wickham! Oh, why would you seek his company after you saw how he acted at the ball? And to visit you alone without either of the Forsters at home? Lydia, what were you thinking?"

"I was not thinking anything, except that I was lonely and Wickham was the one person I wished to see. I love him, Lizzy and he loves me."

"You love him? Lydia, how can you say that?" Lizzy stood up and poured herself a glass of water, for she suddenly felt almost faint. "Oh, never mind. What else happened?"

"Well, the Forsters did not come home Sunday night at all! That is what happened. They sent a servant with a message saying they had decided to spend the night with Mrs. Forster's sister, but mind you, the messenger did not arrive until very late, and by that time Mr. Wickham had offered to stay the night."

"Stay the night! Lydia!"

"I was afraid, Lizzy, and he was very gallant not to leave me all alone. Webster House is quite large, you know, and it can seem utterly eerie late at night. The wind blows in off the sea and makes all these strange noises."

"But you were not alone. The servants were there, were they not?"

"Oh, Lizzy, servants are no company. I needed someone I knew well and Wickham agreed to stay."

Lizzy closed her eyes in exasperation and then took a deep breath. Although she was quite afraid of the answer, she had to ask the next question. "Lydia, did Wickham take advantage of you?"

The younger girl blinked several times and looked dumbfounded. "What do you mean? I do not understand?"

"Did he force his attentions upon you?"

"Why, no. He has never forced anything upon me. There is no need, Lizzy, for I love him to distraction. He is the only man I shall ever love and that reminds me, I am quite put out with you for engaging yourself to him in that secret manner!" She stood up then and shook her finger in her sister's face.

"But I will forgive you, since you no longer fancy him and Wickham explained to me that he had to ask you first, seeing as you are so much older than I and he knew Papa would not agree to my marriage before yours." She stopped and looked slightly puzzled. "Of course, now that you are not going to marry, I wonder if Father will agree to my marrying Wickham. Oh, Lizzy, will you put in a good word with him for me? We all know you can talk Papa into anything. Pray, tell me you will! Oh, Lord, I am so hungry. Charlotte whisked me up here as soon as I arrived without even asking if I had eaten. Will you not call the maid for tea and ask her to bring extra cakes. I seem to be starving all the time lately."

Lizzy rolled her eyes and shook her head. She could not take in all that her sister had said and her utter lack of comprehension that she had done anything wrong. After cautioning her to remain in the chamber and assuring her that she would have food sent up, Lizzy went in search of Charlotte, whom she found in her sitting room, anxiously awaiting her. They discussed some of what Lydia had related, but Charlotte had further news.

"Maria said that Mrs. Forster was quite upset. Upon returning home just before noon today, they had discovered Mr. Wickham and Lydia in the music room . . . in an embrace."

Lizzy closed her eyes in anguish. "Oh, Charlotte, how could she throw herself into his hands of all people?"

"I am afraid there is more, "Charlotte warned. "Colonel Forster sent a note to Mr. Collins, informing him that according to the servants Wickham evidently spent the night in Lydia's bedchamber."

Lizzy gasped at this revelation and sat down quickly, her legs suddenly giving way.

"Colonel Forster ordered Wickham to his quarters and Mrs. Forster insisted that Lydia leave her house. Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived there right in the middle of all this and so he escorted both Maria and Lydia here. Maria knows nothing more than what Lydia told her - that Mrs. Forster was jealous upon finding Wickham visiting her alone. But Lizzy, she also told Maria that Mrs. Forster had permitted such solitary visits in the past."

Elizabeth was speechless. She could not speak a word for fully 10 minutes. How could her sister have behaved in such a manner and was it possible that Mrs. Forster had truly permitted such conduct before?

Downstairs in the salon, Mr. Collins was attempting to placate Lady Catherine's nephews by defending his own position in this unfortunate situation. After allowing Darcy to read Colonel Forster's note, he began to exclaim in the most conciliatory voice, "I am most ashamed of both my cousins' behaviour, sirs. I know Elizabeth caused a great scandal at the ball and as for Lydia, oh, I knew she would come to no good end. I could tell from my very first visit to Longbourn that her parents were far too lax in their discipline of her, for she is much too flighty and adventuresome, and now what I have greatly feared has come upon us. If you wish me to send them to Longbourn straightaway, I shall do so immediately, for that is also truly my desire. Oh, what will Lady Catherine say? I hope that she will not believe I nor my wife sanctioned such conduct and that we will assuredly and immediately break all connection with this family. You do understand, I hope, that they are distant relations, very, very distant, in fact."

Darcy looked up from reading the note and gave the vicar the most withering of stares. He then turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Colonel Fitzwilliam quickly followed and Mr. Collins was left to bow at their departing backs, murmuring, "Well . . . well . . ."

In the hallway Darcy glanced upstairs, but seeing so sign of Elizabeth, he motioned Fitzwilliam into the library. There he closed the door firmly behind them.

"How could this have happened? Why did Colonel Forster not place Wickham under supervision on Saturday night as soon as you told him of his past?"

The colonel took a deep breath before informing Darcy of his failure to speak to Forster until today. Although it was not Fitzwilliam's fault, he knew his cousin would be furious and furious he was! Back and forth he marched before the fireplace, berating himself for not having taken care of the matter himself. "Now, he has compromised the girl and there is no way around it," he exclaimed with an oath.

Fitzwilliam sighed, "Yes, she will have to marry him, and he is such a man."

"I should have called him out when I discovered him with Georgiana!"

Darcy's cousin flinched at the thought of a duel and remembered that he had been the one to dissuade him from carrying through on that impulse. "Killing him will do no good now, Darce, for the girl must have a husband."

Darcy sat down then, placing his head in his hands, filled with anguish at what Elizabeth must be going through. Fitzwilliam poured them both a glass of brandy even though they had not yet eaten dinner.

Above stairs, Lizzy returned to her chamber to find Lydia attacking a plate of fruit and cheese and downing a glass of milk.

"Lizzy! Look at what that silly maid brought me - nothing that will quench my appetite and I a growing girl. What time is dinner? I am not at all sure that I can make it until then. Why did she not bring me some cake? Will you ring for her again?"

Elizabeth sat down opposite her, viewing the empty plate in amazement. "I am surprised that you can eat so at a time like this?"

"And why not? Mama says I have always had a good appetite and lately I seem to be ravenous . . . except first thing in the morning. It is so strange. I no longer care for breakfast. Indeed, I often feel quite nauseous upon awakening and two days ago I actually threw up! I do hope I am not coming down with something."

Lizzy felt a sudden chill descend upon her and a dull pain in her stomach. What was Lydia saying? Surely not! She placed both hands upon her sister's shoulders and turned her around to look directly into her face. "Lydia! What has occurred between you and Mr. Wickham? Colonel Forster says he spent last night in your chamber! Have you been intimate with him?"

"Lizzy, let go. You are hurting my shoulders," she cried, "and what you ask is none of your affair."

Elizabeth did not release her, but held on even tighter. "Lydia, you must tell me the truth. I insist upon it!"

"Oh well, if you will make such a fuss, I shall tell you." She lowered her gaze and smiled. "I have permitted Wickham certain liberties, the kind that a lover takes and more than once I might add. There, now you know. La, just think - I have done what none of my sisters has and I the youngest in the family! But you must not tell Mrs. Forster, for she will be quite envious I am sure."

"Mrs. Forster!" Lizzy released her sister and cried out with great dismay. "What are you saying?"

"Only that Mrs. Forster is in love with Wickham, too. Well, don't look at me that way. It is the truth, for she has confided in me that if she were not already married, she would run away with him to Gretna Green in the blink of an eye! Do you not think that is what he and I should do, for Wickham doubts that my father will allow us to marry for at least two years. And Lizzy, I cannot wait two whole years!"

"No," Elizabeth murmured, "I fear that you cannot afford to wait any time at all."

She sank down on the side of her bed, feeling utterly exhausted. What should she do and who could she turn to for aid? If Lydia was with child and it was certainly a possibility, she must marry immediately. What was she thinking? Lydia and Wickham had spent the night together; they must marry right away, regardless. But would he love Lydia, marry Lydia? Although he had made promises to her, Lizzy knew the chances of his honouring such were slim indeed. How could such a man be worked on, be made to marry her? Mr. Collins would have no influence upon him, for she knew that Wickham considered him nothing less than a joke. Colonel Forster had the wherewithal to pressure him into honouring a commitment, but would Mrs. Forster intervene and prevent such a union since she had designs upon Wickham, herself? Surely, the woman had more sense than to involve herself in more than a flirtation, but then the very idea that she had allowed Lydia and Wickham intimate time alone in the past dismissed any semblance of good judgment within the lady. Oh, why did Papa ever allow Lydia to accompany Mrs. Forster to Brighton in the first place!

The thought of her father caused Lizzy to long for his presence. She was wild to be at home - he would know what to do, surely, or would he? Mr. Bennet had always taken the easy road of parenting, rarely involving himself in the lives of his daughters other than to look up now and then from his reading and shake his head, much preferring to allow them to grow up on their own. It would take money, there was no doubt of that, to persuade Wickham to enter into a permanent alliance with a girl who possessed no fortune nor connections, and possibly an amount Mr. Bennet could ill afford. Charlotte had told her that Colonel Forster had sent an express to Longbourn that very evening, informing her family of the situation. By tomorrow or the next day at the latest, her father would also have received her letter revealing the humiliation she had endured. My poor family, she thought, to have two daughters bring about such dishonour!

And then Elizabeth thought of Mr. Bingley. Would gossip about this entire situation cause him to reconsider paying his attentions to Jane? Suddenly she could see how much more than Lydia's reputation had been ruined. Her entire family must partake of this shame and disgrace.

And what about Darcy? How could anyone expect him to align himself with such a family? How could she face him now? Would he not wish to wash his hands of the entire fiasco? Would he not regret his earlier declarations to her? Would he feel bound to honour the commitment he had made in the midst of passion and join himself to a family such as hers? It was unthinkable! If her father successfully persuaded Wickham to marry Lydia, then Darcy could never marry her, for that would make him brother to the blackguard. Lizzy gasped, stifling a sob, for she knew there was no suitable answer to this dilemma. Wickham must be made to marry Lydia, or her sister would be ruined for life, but when he did, all chances for Lizzy's happiness would be shattered.

Some time later and after having changed for dinner, Elizabeth accompanied Lydia to the dining room. She dreaded facing Darcy, but her fears were in vain, for he and Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Collins informed her, had left Waverley more than two hours previous, and no, he was not privy to their destination. The dinner hour passed in awkwardness. Lydia appeared to be the only person there unaware of the distress she had caused. Even Maria, who knew very little details, appeared subdued. Each time Lydia made any remark at all, Mr. Collins would begin to intone some moral platitude. This caused Charlotte to refill his plate so that he was forced to cease talking and eat, as he was not only a great believer in high morals but prided himself even more in never wasting food. At the conclusion of the meal, Charlotte encouraged Maria and Lydia to enjoy the sunset out on the terrace. Mr. Collins retired to write the news of the day to Lady Catherine and this left Charlotte and Lizzy alone in the drawing room.

Charlotte took up her sewing and sat near Elizabeth on the chaise. "My dear, I could not help but notice that you barely touched your food. Is there not some way I may ease your mind in this regard?"

"I cannot see any easy way out of all this," Lizzy sighed.

"Well, let us think on more pleasant topics, for dwelling on it will do no good. Pray, do tell me what happened between you and Mr. Darcy earlier this afternoon. Did you not enjoy your time on the beach? As you can see, I had your trunk returned to your room, for I felt certain that you would not leave for Longbourn today, not after I sent Mr. Darcy in search of you."

"You sent him?" Lizzy asked.

"Well, in a round about manner. When he inquired after you, I let your whereabouts be known and it was scarce two minutes before he was out the door to join you." Charlotte smiled and said, "Will you not confide in me, Lizzy? Has he renewed his affections to you?"

Elizabeth nodded, but her countenance contained only the slightest of smiles.

"And did you accept?"

She nodded again, but then lowered her eyes. "Oh, Charlotte, can you not see that this business of Lydia and Wickham has ruined more than her, that more things have been broken by this scandal than we can imagine?"

"I suppose you mean that Mr. Darcy will no longer wish to marry you because of Lydia's behaviour."

"Nor will Mr. Bingley marry Jane!" Lizzy added. "Our chances of marrying well were never great, but now I would say they are non-existent. No gentleman will connect himself with such a family."

"But Lizzy, if Mr. Wickham and Lydia marry quickly, gossip will die just as fast, for nothing replaces intrigue like marriage. I cannot see how it will affect you and Jane."

"Charlotte, consider - how can Mr. Darcy marry into a family wherein he and Mr. Wickham would be brothers - and I know he will not allow Mr. Bingley to enter into such an alliance."

"I think you underestimate Mr. Darcy, my dear. He appears to me to be a man very much in love with you and I think it will take more than one bad apple to spoil this barrel."

Lizzy sighed, "That is because you do not understand the depth of pain Mr. Wickham has previously caused Mr. Darcy. All that Wickham told us in Hertfordshire was false other than the fact he is the son of old Mr. Darcy's steward. Mr. Darcy never injured Wickham in any way, but believe me, Wickham has harmed Darcy in a manner he can never forget, and now that Lydia has brought such shame upon us, I know it will be too much."

"I am shocked at you, Elizabeth, to think you would agree to marry a man in whom you have so little faith."

Lizzy looked up, surprise registering at her friend's accusation.

"I know Wickham was faithless," Charlotte continued, "but you must not judge every man by his standards, and certainly you must not render Mr. Darcy in the same league."

"I do not!" Lizzy exclaimed. "I would not even speak their names together, for there is an immeasurable difference between them."

"Then do not consider Mr. Darcy willing to bolt at the first sign of trouble, Elizabeth. You do not give him the credit he deserves."

Darcy and Colonel Fitzwilliam had left Waverley and gone straight to meet with Colonel Forster. There they learned that he had ordered Wickham confined to his quarters and placed a guard outside his door to insure his compliance. He agreed that he should wed Lydia as soon as Mr. Bennet agreed to the match, but he offered no hope of any future under his command. "I will not have the rascal in my company! I want him gone from Brighton as soon as possible."

It seems the colonel had heard reports of his own wife's preference for Wickham's attentions and after observing his behaviour the last three days, he would brook no opposition in removing him from Mrs. Forster's reach.

Fitzwilliam and Darcy then met with Wickham, a visit wherein there was much shouting and commotion and no little swearing. Upon their first entering his quarters, Wickham had cowered in a corner, leery of a repeat of Darcy's fist upon his jaw. Colonel Fitzwilliam, however, stood between the two and did most of the talking, demanding to know how long he had trifled with the youngest Miss Bennet. Wickham evaded answering by describing her flirtatious manner with all the officers, as though he were not the only man to have enjoyed her charms. Darcy's growl and deadly look then caused him to backtrack and he soon acknowledged that he knew of no other who had known her as he did. When Fitzwilliam introduced the subject of marriage, though, Wickham flatly refused. They could have him exiled to the Americas for all he cared, but he would not marry a penniless girl who could offer nothing more than her charms. After all, his debts would not keep him from England forever, but marriage was a life-long confinement. Even when Darcy offered to settle his accounts, Wickham said no.

As the colonel and Darcy parted late that night, Darcy said, "He is holding out for more, but I know him. He will name his price."

At Waverley, all had retired for the night except Elizabeth. She had tucked Lydia into bed in the apartment next to hers and although she was more than weary, she could not sleep until she had seen Darcy, until her fears that he would not return were abated. She now sat on the chaise in the small salon, until hearing his carriage outside, she rose and stood in the doorway to the great hall. At first sight of her, he walked straight to her, pulling her back into the room and closing the door. Without a word, he gathered her into his arms and held her close. Elizabeth had not cried over her sister until now, but at the touch of his embrace, relief washed over her and she gave herself up to weeping.

He murmured against her tears, tenderly comforting her with those sounds that only one who loved her most could make, as he kissed her hair, her forehead, and her cheek. At length, her crying subsided and he led her to the sofa, sitting beside her and cradling her head against his shoulder. He assured her over and over that all was not lost, that things would be made right, and that she must not worry. She found it hard to believe that he was not angry, that all her fears of his disapproval of her family were groundless, that he even accepted the fact that Wickham and he would be brothers.

"He shall never be welcome in our house, Elizabeth, but he will not keep me from marrying you. I speak prematurely, of course, because the rogue has not yet agreed to marry your sister, but he will. Just give me time."

Elizabeth sat up then, a frightening thought intruding upon her consolation. "You will not challenge him, sir? Pray, I beg you not to call him out, William. I could not bear it if you were killed."

"And what makes you think I would be the one to lose?" he smiled.

"Oh, William, do not make light of it. I beg you not to do this."

"I have no intention of fighting Wickham, my love, for I doubt that he would even respond. He is too much of a coward. He preys upon those who are weaker, you know, that is his habit. As I said, with a bit more time, he will come around."

Elizabeth chewed her lip then, wondering if she should say more, but with the realization that this man loved her and would be her husband no matter what, she took a deep breath and said, "We cannot wait too long, sir, for I suspect my sister may be with child."

Darcy swore then, standing up and beginning to pace. "This means last night was not the first time he took advantage of her, then."

Lizzy shook her head. "No, they have been intimate for some time I fear."

"I should have killed him when I discovered him with Georgiana!" He poured himself a drink and offered her one, but she shook her head. After downing it in one gulp, he said, "Well, this will provide us with more ammunition with which to persuade the scoundrel to marry."

"But will he? How can he be forced to wed?"

Darcy sighed and poured another drink. "There are ways, my dear, there are always ways."

Early the next morning, Darcy called on Wickham alone.

"I want the truth, Wickham. What was your design on Lydia Bennet? Did you plan to run off with her and why? She has no money, no connections."

Wickham shrugged and said nothing, his eyelids heavy from just being wakened and his head splitting from a night of drinking.

"Is this your way of taking revenge on Elizabeth for jilting you?"

"What if it was?" Wickham smiled. "Did it not work? But in truth, Lydia has thrown herself at me since I was in Meryton, and you know how I have always had a weakness for young girls."

"You have always been weak," Darcy said flatly. "I acknowledge that."

"Oh, that is rich, coming from you, the great privileged lord of the manor who never had to work a day in his life! Well, let me tell you, I could have been every bit the gentleman if Eliza Bennet had honoured her promise and married me. When her sister marries Bingley, I could have had all the connections I needed to rise in this world and with Eliza beside me, I could have stood tall in any assembly."

Darcy pursed his lips and twisted his signet ring. "You are absolutely correct. With Miss Bennet as your wife, you might have become a man worth knowing and not because of any connection through marriage, but because if you had lived up to her faith in you, she would have proved invaluable in aiding you in your quest to become a real gentleman. But you destroyed all hope of that, Wickham, with your faithless conduct and your dissolute habits. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Wickham's face appeared downcast for a moment as he blinked in recognition of the truth Darcy had spoken. The thought passed Darcy's mind that he might have penetrated the man's shell of self-pity, but it did not last any length of time, for Wickham soon rebounded. "Well, I can rejoice in this. I certainly destroyed any chance of your happiness with Eliza Bennet, for I know you all too well. Your desire for her might overcome one scandal, but now that two sisters are tainted, your pride will not allow you to suffer an alliance with such a family."

Darcy's eyes narrowed and Wickham laughed to see that he had hit his target.

"I only want to know one more thing," Darcy said, "before I take further action. How long have you taken advantage of Lydia Bennet?"

"What difference does that make," Wickham snarled. "Once or more than once, she is used goods now."

Darcy then informed him of Lydia's probable pregnancy and when the rogue's only response was to laugh once again, Darcy hit him. In fact, he hit him several times, so much so that by the time Wickham joined Lydia at the church some 10 days later, he still nursed a black eye, several cuts, and a nose quite swollen and slightly out of place. The promise of paying all his gaming debts, the acquisition of a new commission quartered in the north of England, plus a lump sum of almost 10,000 pounds finally proved to be the persuasion that secured his agreement - that, plus the promise that Colonel Fitzwilliam would protect him from Darcy's fists.

The wedding was a sad little affair. Colonel Fitzwilliam, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth were the only attendees apart from the bride and groom. Maria had wished to attend, but Mr. Collins had absolutely forbidden it and Charlotte gave in to his wishes, so that he could assure Lady Catherine that none of his family had participated in such a disgraceful event. Darcy had not only traveled to London to secure the special licence, but he had also called on Mr. Bennet at Longbourn and received his approval of the marriage settlement. Mr. Bennet was called upon to do nothing more than settle Wickham's debts at Meryton, assure Lydia of her small inheritance upon his death, and promise 100 pounds per annum in the meantime. Darcy had made no explanations as to why Wickham had agreed to such a marriage with so little inducement, but Mr. Bennet, not being a stupid man, surmised the truth and, in turn, Mr. Darcy's repute with the man rose quite decidedly in his favour.

That proved beneficial when Darcy asked for Lizzy's father to bless his union with his favourite daughter. Such marriage was fulfilled in late autumn at Longbourn Church, Darcy and Elizabeth sharing their day in a joyous double wedding with Bingley and Jane. All their friends and family were in attendance, other than Lydia and Wickham and Lady Catherine and her daughter. Long before the wedding, Lizzy's fears of scandal had vanished with the news that she was marrying a man of such wealth and property. That accomplishment caused far more talk than a secret engagement to Mr. Wickham, whom everyone in Hertfordshire agreed they had never really liked.

Charlotte's health had eventually returned in its entirety and she was only too glad to return to Kent. Elizabeth had experienced mixed feelings about leaving Brighton. She longed to see her family at Longbourn, of course, and she had a wedding to plan, but she would miss the call of the ocean and the feel of sand beneath her toes. On that last day she had walked the beach, recalling both the sadness and joy she had lived through that summer. She was only too glad to leave the memories of Wickham behind, but alongside the water and near that great black rock formation she relived only the happiest of memories of how Darcy had first kissed her and forced her to admit her love for him.

On that last day she had climbed the rock one last time and stood gazing out to sea when from the corner of her eye, she noticed a movement and turned to see Darcy climbing up behind her. "I thought you had far too many last minute duties to accompany me to the beach," she teased.

"I did, but I recalled that I had responsibilities here as well," he smiled, slipping his arms around her waist and nuzzling her neck. He inhaled the scent of her skin and felt that delicious tremor of excitement he encountered each time he touched her.

Elizabeth raised her arm behind her and held his head close to hers, running her fingers through his curls. "Sometimes I wish we never had to leave this place," she murmured.

"We can always come back. I am sure once Lady Catherine makes peace with our marriage, she will allow us to use Waverley whenever we wish."

"And what makes you think she will ever accept me, a woman who has 'polluted the very shades of Pemberley' as she put it in her letter to me?"

Darcy laughed. "Once you give her a great-nephew or niece, believe me she will come around. Poor Anne has little chance of ever providing her with grandchildren and I know my aunt too well. She will not be able to resist instructing you on how to raise a child."

Lizzy blushed to think of bearing his children, but she turned to face him, lifting her mouth for his kiss. Oh, how she loved this man, this good, fine, handsome man who with his kisses could make her toes curl and her insides quiver! And speaking of toes, she remembered that she was barefoot once again and once Darcy released her lips and began to trail kisses along her cheek and neck, she twisted around slightly to make sure her slippers remained where she had left them, just in time to see him take a step and consequently knock them into the deep.

She cried out, "Oh, dearest, look! There go my shoes off the side of the rock!"

Darcy did not even look up, so engrossed was he in nibbling her ear. "Well, I see I shall have to rewrite our marriage settlement," he mumbled.

"What do you mean?" she whispered, giggling as his kisses tickled her neck.

"I shall have to increase your pin money - and a considerable amount, too - just to keep my darling wife in shoes!"

On their wedding night, Elizabeth had been naturally somewhat nervous. Darcy could tell when he had left her to undress that she had been unusually quiet and reserved. When he knocked on her door some half hour later, indeed, he could barely hear her bid him admittance.

Standing beside the window in a cream-colored gown and robe, her dark hair loose and flowing, Elizabeth appeared as a vision to Darcy, one his hungry eyes devoured. He steeled himself to approach her slowly, to introduce her to his lovemaking with caution and patience, but the very sight of her inflamed his senses, and he knew not how he could control his passion.

"You are undeniably beautiful, my love," he whispered as he took her into his arms. He could feel her tremble in his embrace and he forced himself to be satisfied with tenderly kissing only one cheek and then the other. He tangled his hands within her curls and felt their luxuriant silkiness twine around his fingers.

Untying her robe, he slipped it off, marveling at the softness of her bare shoulders as his hands caressed them. He allowed the robe to fall at her feet and gently pulled her close to him once more. As he sought her mouth with his, he felt her stiffen in his arms and conscious of her fear, Darcy stepped back. He gazed into her eyes, wide with apprehension of the unknown, but yet willing and filled with love.

"Please God," he whispered silently, "May I do nothing that will ever hurt this lovely woman you have given me."

He reached down and picked her up then, carrying her to the bed, but instead of lying beside her, Darcy walked to the end of the bed and sat at her feet. She looked at him, a question in her eyes, but he said nothing. Instead, he took her cold little foot in his warm hands and began to knead it. Clasping the arch, he moved his thumbs against the center of the bottom of her foot in a rhythmic movement. Over and over and back and forth, he massaged her instep. He then worked his way up to the ball of her foot and with one hand rubbing it, he cradled the heel in his other hand and pressed it against his palm, his fingers stroking the soft skin on either side as his warm palm moved round and round against the heel. He encircled her ankle with his fingers and soothed out the tension from it. Gently he tugged back and forth on each toe and stroked the top of her foot, transferring the heat from his hands thereto, all the while working out any stress she might feel.

At Darcy's first touch of her bare foot, Elizabeth had felt a fire begin deep within her body. No one had ever rubbed her feet before and she had not the slightest idea that doing so could provoke such inconceivable sensations. She felt her body ease, her limbs grow languid, all fear and hesitation melt away as Darcy continued to rub her feet. Her eyelids grew heavy and he smiled upon observing the pleasure he had kindled within her reflected in her answering smile and soft moans of contentment. When he felt the last semblance of tension release from her body, he lay down beside her and drew her to him.

"I have wanted to do that since the first time I spied your bare little feet in the library at Rosings," he whispered, beginning to kiss her.

"H-m-m, if you had," she answered while kissing him back, "I would have never looked for my shoes and we would have been married months ago!"

And, in truth, although Darcy increased Elizabeth's pin money to an unheard of generous amount with each year that they were married, she spent very little of it on shoes, for at their great home at Pemberley and whenever they were alone she preferred to go barefoot as much as possible. And her husband? Well, he had not the slightest objection at all.

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