Summer at Pemberley….

Caroline Bingley sighed in general dissatisfaction as she strolled throughout the halls of Pemberley, admiring the portraits and picturesque landscapes that graced the walls of the fine estate. For a time, she was able to close her eyes and imagine the satisfaction and happiness she would have felt had she been the mistress of Pemberley, and she was able to enjoy this harmless amusement until she heard a loud giggle accompanied by the animated conversation of two others, the shriek of an older woman followed, and her happy fantasy was ruined.

What had she done to deserve this? Caroline wondered. Back in Meryton, everything had been entirely simple. Mr. Darcy, from their very first outing in the country society had gained the reputation of being a proud and arrogant man. Caroline had not minded, for it meant that he would only pay her his particular attention, or, at the very least, more attention than every other lady, and if he was unhappy as she was in that backwater town, it would have the dual motive of his influencing Charles to find a more suitable estate, preferably one closer to Pemberley, and the two of them sharing an intimate experience, if you will, one that she hoped would bring them closer together.

And because Mr. Darcy was a gentleman, he could afford to give the offense she could not. So she had to grit her teeth, and play the charming lady to those backwards people, which led to her having to show Meryton society that she was a generally charming, friendly woman. This meant, of course, that she should have to pick out a friend, preferably from what passed as one of the prominent families.

That led to her befriending the two eldest Bennet chits, for it was a pity that Jane Bennet was lame, as she had thought at the time, and she should invite her younger sister, although she had been quite impertinent, more so than good breeding permitted, but she and Louisa could hardly bear the thought of only entertaining the lame Bennet chit, so it was decided that they should invite them both.

That had been the end of her conquest, and Caroline still could not comprehend how everything had turned out.

Eliza Bennet was supposed to marry her cousin, and spend out the last days of her country existence as the wife of a foolish, backwards man to save her family from ruin.

That was what how the story was meant to end.

Instead, barely nine months later, Caroline was now a guest at Pemberley, and had to sit and pretend to be gracious about the fact that Eliza Bennet had supplanted her place as the mistress of Pemberley.

And it mortified her beyond extreme prejudice that she should soon be related by marriage to the chit!

Caroline had never taken Charles' pathetic crush on the lame Jane Bennet seriously, for she knew of his kind and generous nature. Particularly that he was too kind and generous, and had been taken advantage of often by penurious, grasping servants and otherwise poor people-people who had the nerve to demand money for which they had not earned-and so she had not been surprised, especially considering Jane's beauty, that he had paid more than a cursory attention to her.

Charles was agreeable, she sneered, even when he was not. She and Louisa had mercilessly teased him about his delightful little crush on the eldest Bennet chit, gratified that the girl, in addition to being beautiful and easy to manipulate, was well aware of her status in life, and gave her brother no encouragement towards his attentions, only speaking to him when greeted, and showing him no particular favor.

It was Charles who had pursued her all the way to Pemberley.

And now they were engaged, and would be married this coming November.

Everything was ruined, everything she and her sister had agreed upon, to help benefit the Bingley name. Louisa married for connections of the Hurst name. Mr. Hurst, the drunken sot, could stand to earn a much better income if he had taken any interest in managing his estate, beyond the supplementing the vineyards, but his income was very comfortable, and Louisa's dowry of twenty thousand pounds had helped in that regard.

While their fortune had gotten their foot within the door, Mr. Hurst's name had granted them entrance, and Caroline had never been so proud of her brother as she had been when he had befriended Mr. Darcy, whose name opened the majority of doors that had been closed to them.

The rest of the plan was exceedingly simple, one that she had congratulated herself on when it became evident that Mr. Darcy did not allow many into his inner circle, and she had received an invitation to felicity where no other woman had been able to enter, simply because of his friendship with her brother.

And Eliza Bennet had ruined that.

How! That was what she wished to know. Mr. Darcy had been there-he had seen the idiocy of the current master of Longbourn, and his beloved Eliza came from the same family! Caroline was forced to admit that beyond her troublesome tongue, Eliza Bennet was moderately pretty and pleasant enough company, if she was the cream of the crop, one had been forced to choose from. But her sisters! Her mother! Her cousin! And not speak ill of the dead, but Caroline had heard tales of what the permissiveness of the Bennet father had allowed his offspring to dabble in.

Blood always ruled out, and Caroline was sure that Mr. Darcy was going to regret his choice, soon enough. It would then be too late, she thought victoriously, but that thought could not brighten her spirits. She had made it her mission to do what no other woman had been able to do in nearly a decade-become the mistress of Pemberley.

And some country chit had stolen it right from under her.

After this visit, Caroline would return to her sister Louisa's home, and would have to start her search for an appropriate husband from scratch, because her brother had insisted on keeping his lease until it ran out, and Caroline had promised to stay with her brother, in anticipation of an extended visit with Mr. Darcy, for the majority of the lease period.

It was close to mid afternoon, Caroline realized. Soon they would be gathered for dinner, and then to meet in the music room. Of course, one of the greatest pleasures of her life had been to listen to dear Georgiana Darcy play for herself, Charles, Mr. Darcy, and Louisa during their last visit to the Darcy townhouse, the previous Christmas, but Caroline did not enjoy listening to the plain Bennet sister play her tedious, country ballads. Nor pretending to.

But she would applaud the Bennet chit with all the graciousness she could muster, and then some for she was not as nearly shortsighted as her dear Charles believed. Mr. Darcy's downfall would come soon, she was sure of it, especially given the incident that occurred some time earlier that year, with the youngest Bennet chit, the one who chased incessantly after officers.

Turning a corner, Caroline found herself at a familiar door. Eliza Bennet had offered to give her a tour of Pemberley, and Caroline had been forced to oblige, especially since her brother was present. Inwardly, she had seethed the entire time, for she had visited and explored Pemberley before that country chit was even aware of a Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, yet she was forced to make way for her, and be gracious and pleasant about it.

If she remembered correctly, Eliza had said that this was the door to her private study, where she performed her duties as the mistress of Pemberley. Caroline scoffed at Eliza contributing anything to the great estate of Pemberley, but had been very curious to see the room. However, Eliza had explained that she wished to keep such a room private.

Well, now was her chance to see inside, Caroline thought with a grin, as she gently eased the door open.

Later that evening, when darkness had fallen over Pemberley, Elizabeth Darcy sprawled over the bed of her husband, Fitzwilliam, watching his form through a screen as he dressed himself after his bath.

Stepping out from behind the screen, Fitzwilliam grinned in response to the mischievous look on his wife's face.

"What do you find so humorous tonight, Mrs. Darcy?" he asked, leaning against the post at the end of the bed.

Her eyes glittered with amusement, and he was suddenly reminded of the very first time she had seen through Caroline Bingley, and charmingly disarmed her every inference-her first visit to Netherfield.

"Miss Bingley." she said shortly, though her voice caught a laugh, seeing no need to explain, for Fitzwilliam had been present when Miss Bingley had been alarmed to see a husband and wife holding hands and kissing in a private room.

"Would you sleep with me tonight, Elizabeth?" Fitzwilliam asked quietly.

His only answer was to watch her slide under the sheets and coverlet, and he repeated his near nightly ritual of sliding only the coverlet beneath him.

One day, they would do more than sleep under separate layers of blankets, or steal kisses as though they were an engaged couple, but for now, Fitzwilliam was content, knowing their bond would only strengthen the more time passed by.

All was well.

The End.

AUTHOR NOTE:

I know I've been absolutely terrible with updating, so I just went ahead and put all of the chapters in. I wish I had a good excuse...I don't, not really. I just hate copying and pasting with my slow laptop, so I had to wait (and have time) to get to a public computer i.e. the library, and post all of them.

I hope this makes up for it, and I'm thankful for everyone who takes the time to read, even if it's to tell me I suck and I'm too wordy (yea, I know the latter, I KNOW)...

As I say in the description, I will never take this one down, but I will update and leave a few chapters for the other stories... Eventually I will find enough time to edit this one.

Anyway, happy reading!