Title: Under the Influence
Rating: M – for sexual situations just this side of explicit.
Disclaimer: Though I write stories based on the novels and characters of Jane Austen, this work belongs to ME and no one else. Unless given express permission, no one besides myself has the right to distribute or profit from my intellectual property. All rights reserved.
Setting: Regency

Summary: A disagreement with Mr Darcy on the dance floor at the Netherfield Ball has Elizabeth spiraling; could she have misjudged him and taken the word of a scoundrel? Too much spiked punch and an equally soused would-be suitor bring on a myriad of consequences. (Not explicit, but not clean, either.)

"Mr Bennet missed his second daughter exceedingly; his affection for her drew him oftener from home than anything else could do. He delighted in going to Pemberley, especially when he was least expected."

– Pride and Prejudice Volume III, Chapter 19

Epilogue: Least Expected

Wednesday March 6, 1816

Before closing the door to the hallway, Darcy looked to the left, then to the right, to reassure himself that there were no servants about. Satisfied, he shut the portal and locked it behind him.

A familiar voice, suffused with amusement, sounded from behind him. "What are you doing, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy turned into the room, a broad, prideful grin spread across his features, and looked to where his wife was seated by the parlor window. She was as lovely as ever with her curls pinned back into a serviceable knot at the back of her head, the coffee-hued locks lit from behind by the golden glow of warm sunlight streaming in from the outside. She was wearing one of the frocks he liked best, a deep burgundy silk which did great justice to her figure, and he could not help but admire her in it for a long moment. A hoop of embroidery was in her hands, the needle paused in its work, as she regarded him with a pertly knowing smile and a raised eyebrow.

Recognizing the invitation in her expression, Darcy accepted it immediately by striding across the floor with purpose. He halted just in front of his dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, his beloved wife of the past five years, and relieved her hands of their project. He tossed the embroidery into the basket at her feet absently, his gray gaze latched onto her verdantly green one, and then reached out and pulled her to her feet. This much accomplished, Darcy was now capable of drawing Elizabeth into his arms for a kiss. He availed himself of this privilege – and with much gusto.

After several panting minutes locked in their embrace, Darcy was finally forced to retreat and tore his lips away. Once his breathing had leveled enough for rough speech, he announced, "That, my dear wife, is what I was doing."

Darcy's levity earned him a breathy laugh and a fond nuzzle to his jaw from Elizabeth. "I was not complaining, my love, merely inquiring. And here is another for you; what are you doing here? I thought you out all day attending to the dispute between the Wallers and the Griffins."

"Were you up to something you should not have been, Wife?" he teased with a raised brow he had imitated from her. "I should think you happy to see me."

"I am always up to some sort of mischief, Husband, and I have long ceased to fear being caught at it. Now, will you be so kind as to answer my question?" Elizabeth's words were scolding, but her tone arch and lacking any hint of asperity.

As her ire was always impossible to mistake when it was truly present, Darcy continued in his playful manner. He dipped his head and began to kiss and nibble along the length of her neck as he did so, knowing it would please and torment her in equal measure. "And what sort of mischief have you been up to? Shall I have to exert my husbandly authority and meet out punishment for your transgressions?"

Elizabeth's breaths were beginning to come in sputtering fits and starts as Darcy moved slowly lower down the column of her throat, but she managed to say, in a rather winded fashion that sent a spike of desire through him, "I...I suppose my behavior might call for it."

Darcy smirked against her sweetly scented skin. "Since you are willing to admit your wrongdoing," he paused to scrape his teeth along the swell of heaving flesh just above the neckline of her gown, eliciting an appreciative shiver from his beloved, "then I suppose I can afford to be somewhat merciful."

With this magnanimous proclamation, Darcy lifted his wife into his arms, cradling her against him as if she were still his new bride ready to cross the threshold into their lives together, and marched her over to the sofa he had scouted in advance just for this purpose. Elizabeth emitted a surprised sound which was some cross between a giggle and a shriek, but did not protest at the treatment. To the contrary, her fingers set to work loosening the knot of his cravat and her kisses began searching for the skin underneath.

Darcy spread his wife along the length of the sofa and lowered himself down atop of her. He used his forearms and knees to elevate himself slightly above her so that his larger frame would not crush her comparatively smaller one and set himself to the task of finding her pleasure. He did so with the selfish knowledge that she would soon reciprocate.

Just as Darcy's teeth had released one of the buttons along the lacy front of Elizabeth's bodice in a playfully barbaric fashion, they were most inconveniently interrupted.

"Mrs Darcy, your father – Oh! I beg your pardon! I had no idea the master was returned."

Darcy lifted his head away from his wife's bosom and scrambled into a more upright position. He strangely felt guilty for being caught atop his wife by his motherly housekeeper even though he had every right to be there. Perhaps he was simply recalling the mortification of his sister-in-law ruining his amorous encounters with Elizabeth all those years ago before they were married.

In any case, "Did you fail to note the locked door, Mrs Reynolds?"

The elderly housekeeper, who kept her back respectfully turned while her master and mistress untangled themselves from one another and righted their clothing, replied, "I entered from the grounds, sir, and the doors were unlocked."

The grounds. Darcy shot a regretful look toward the set of double french doors along the wall to his left and withheld a groan of self flagellation. He had forgotten to lock the doors to the grounds.

Elizabeth, who had successfully lowered her skirts and refastened the buttons her eager husband had put asunder, changed the subject. "You mentioned my father, Mrs Reynolds? Has he sent word, against all odds, to say whether or not my family is coming to Penny's birthday celebration?"

Mrs Reynolds chanced a peek over her shoulder and, finding the Darcys properly covered – even if the master was standing strategically behind the sofa – turned fully around to address her mistress' question. "No, ma'am, he is here."

"Here?"

"He arrived less than a quarter hour ago. I was just outside greeting his carriage on the drive."

The urge to groan aloud intensified and Darcy clenched his fists behind the small of his back to quell it. He and his father-in-law were in general agreement to tolerate one another's company for Elizabeth's sake, yet it was still clear that Mr Bennet had never entirely forgiven Darcy for the circumstances which had precipitated his daughter's somewhat hasty marriage. This resentment was revealed in a myriad of subtle ways, such as distant, unenthusiastic greetings whenever they should meet and an irritating habit of speaking over his son-in-law as if he were not present. Darcy could live with these passive forms of needling as they did not bother him overmuch – let the old man have his petulance – but the one defiance of his authority he could not abide was Mr Bennet's execrable tendency of showing up unannounced and without proper invitation. Darcy recognized it as a ploy to punish him for taking Elizabeth so far away and also usurping Mr Bennet's fatherly authority by drunkenly compromising her virtue, thereby essentially forcing a union, but it was both childish and unacceptable behavior on the part of a man who, by dint of his greater age, should have been too mature to descend to it.

Mr Bennet had certainly outdone himself on this occasion; not only had he come to Pemberley when least expected – as Penny's birthday celebration was not scheduled for some weeks yet – but he had also managed to interrupt a private interlude between husband and wife. Had it not been entirely impossible, what with the nature of this rendezvous being spontaneous, Darcy might have suspected Mr Bennet of purposefully orchestrating it.

"Thank you, Mrs Reynolds. Have the maids begun preparing his usual rooms?"

"Yes, Madam."

Elizabeth smiled fondly at the housekeeper. "Of course they have, I need not have asked; you are always anticipating me."

The slight softening of Mrs Reynolds' lips indicated that she was withholding a smile, leaving only a hint of her appreciation for her mistress' praise behind on her professional facade. Darcy knew that once Mrs Reynolds had bestowed her approval it was rarely withdrawn and that her loyalty was more implacable than his resentment. It was not necessary for a housekeeper to approve of her mistress, nor even like her, but Darcy would have been exceedingly disappointed if Elizabeth had fallen short of Mrs Reynolds' expectations; as his former nurse, she was practically as much a mother to him as his own mother had been before passing from the world. Thankfully, Elizabeth had exerted her guileless charm and now the housekeeper was her champion against any and all below stairs who might grumble about her common origins. Mrs Reynolds would tolerate no whispers of that sort, such was her fondness for Elizabeth. On occasion, she had even taken her mistress' part over her master's, something that admittedly sparked a touch of jealousy within Darcy's breast whenever it occurred. It was a blessedly rare occurrence.

"I aim to please you in all ways, Mrs Darcy. I have further taken the liberty of having Mr Bennet shown to the library and ordered some refreshments for him."

"Excellent, Mrs Reynolds. You have thought of everything. We shall be along in a moment to greet him; you may return to your usual duties." Elizabeth flashed the housekeeper another smile and nodded her head.

Mrs Reynolds dropped into a stiff curtsy and retreated from the room, leaving through the door which Darcy had secured earlier. Their private moment was truly at an end.

Finally releasing the irritation he had been holding back while in Mrs Reynolds' presence, Darcy sighed and offered his open palm to his wife. "Shall we?"

Recognizing his ire, Elizabeth accepted his hand and placed a soothing kiss upon the fingers which curled around hers. "We shall."

o0o

When the Darcys entered the library a scant few minutes later, they found Mr Bennet seated comfortably in an armchair by the fire. There was a small leather tome spread open in his lap, a small stack of additional ones upon the end table next to him, a tea saucer balanced in one hand and an overall air of satisfaction settled over him. Darcy was tempted to call for his guest's carriage and send the presumptuous old sod to the village where he could impose upon the inn's hospitality, but Elizabeth would never countenance such treatment of her beloved father and so he must suffer Mr Bennet's smug presence. Though Darcy refused to be happy about it.

"Papa!" Elizabeth cried upon breaching the room, releasing Darcy's hand so that she could go to her father.

Mr Bennet looked up from his book, placed both it and his teacup upon the table in front of him and rose from his seat just in time to catch his favorite daughter up in a hug. It was, perhaps, an undignified greeting, but at home with only her loving family and indulgent servants to look on Elizabeth was afforded some leniency of decorum. Besides, she had been caught doing far more improper things and been happily forgiven for them before. There was one particularly memorable time by the lake involving her frock – since retired and turned to scraps – a playful spaniel – who now obeyed none but his wife – and a great deal of mud. The story was often retold at parties.

"Lizzy!" Mr Bennet held his dearest child to himself for a few long seconds before releasing her to take a good look at her visage. "You are looking well enough. Is that man taking good care of you?"

Darcy flicked his eyes up to the ceiling in a bid to the Almighty for patience with his father-in-law. Another way in which Mr Bennet showed his ongoing disrespect was to refer to his son-in-law as "that man" as if Darcy were some transient, unimportant presence in Elizabeth's life and nothing more than a burden for her to endure. "As you see," Darcy answered for her, somewhat testily, "Elizabeth is in perfect health."

Mr Bennet ignored Darcy utterly, as Darcy knew he would, and continued to speak to Elizabeth exclusively. "And how are the children? Where are they?"

"I am well," Elizabeth replied, a reprimanding tilt to her head and brow, "and the children are with their nurse in the garden. The weather is so fine today that they have gone to feed the ducks down by the lake."

"Just like their Mama," Mr Bennet said fondly. "Always out of doors. Is my girl reading yet? I have brought her a book of fairy tales."

Elizabeth laughed. "Papa! She is only just turning three on the fifteenth. Let her learn her letters first."

"Very well. And my grandson?"

There was a sly twinkle in Elizabeth's eye as she quipped, "He cannot yet read, either."

Mr Bennet guffawed at his daughter's sally. "I have missed your wit, my Lizzy! Your wedding day was the last day any sense was spoken at Longbourn. As for Alex, he would have to be some sort of prodigy to be reading at only a few months old, but his sister will take it up soon, mark me; you were about her age when you began and she is her mother's daughter."

Another irritation; Mr Bennet persisted in claiming the children as all Elizabeth's as if Darcy had not had a hand in their upbringing alongside her. Moreover, though Penelope indisputably took after her mother with her cocoa brown curls, mossy eyes and precocious wit, Alexander was an almost exact copy of his father. There was no disputing the boy's patrimony with his black hair curled in tight spirals, his misty gray eyes and serious mien. Remarkable children both, in his unqualified opinion.

"And where is Mama?" asked Elizabeth, looking around the room as if she expected to see Mrs Bennet pop out from behind a sofa or the emerald velvet drapes. Darcy looked about him, too, for he would not put it past his mother-in-law to do something of the sort.

"I have left her at Rosecliff," said Mr Bennet offhandedly. "I suspect your sister will drop her off on your doorstep tomorrow once she has got her fill of Mrs Bennet's incessant spoiling of little Grace."

Naturally, Darcy would also be blessed with the presence of Mrs Bennet on this unanticipated trip. Better and better. At least his mother by marriage would acknowledge his presence, even if sometimes he would prefer that she did not.

Darcy sat in a chair across from father and daughter and interjected himself into the conversation lest he actually be forgotten. "And the girls? Are they also with the Bingleys?"

Mr Bennet pivoted his head and, rather grudgingly, acknowledged Darcy. The wry smile upon his mouth indicated he was only mildly irritated to have to share his tete-a-tete with Elizabeth, however. As Darcy had suspected, the old man had merely been attempting to rankle him with his inattention. "Lydia is there, but Kitty decided to stay in Town with Mary to be closer to her Mr Evans. Apparently, she cannot bare to be parted with him for even a month."

A month? "I see."

"Georgiana will be pleased to see Lydia when she arrives. They have been corresponding so fervently about their upcoming Season that it will save us much on writing supplies now that they can converse face to face." Elizabeth's pitch was heightened and her words coming rapidly. The darting glances in his direction and the evolving grimace on her features confirmed to Darcy that she recognized his displeasure. That the Bennets had, apparently, invited themselves to stay for a month complete with no prior word on the subject would likely have annoyed even those with the greatest reserves of patience – Darcy was sure to hear something from Bingley about this escapade if he, too, were blindsided by it – so her conjecture was hardly inspired by genius.

With his old promise of accepting and tolerating his in-laws' idiosyncrasies in mind, Darcy relaxed his expression and consoled his wife's worries with a small upturn of his lips. More than likely, the Bingleys would be persuaded to share the Bennet Burden and the Darcys would therefore only be required to host them for half of the allotted time. A fortnight was not so very bad. Elizabeth's stance visibly drooped in relief as she returned his smile apologetically.

"It will be a relief to us as well, my dear." Mr Bennet carried the conversation forward with nary a hint of guilt for imposing himself and his family upon their Derbyshire relations for such a lengthy period. "Ever since Lydia returned from Mrs Goddard's, she has been chomping at the bit for society that a country neighborhood of only four-and-twenty families cannot provide. Derbyshire is not much more varied," here Mr Bennet slid a sly glance in Darcy's direction, "but at least it is comparatively fresh and she will have Miss Darcy for a companion. Kitty has been so often in Town with Mary that we hardly ever see her at Longbourn at all. It is almost as if she were already married!"

Miss Catherine Bennet, the second youngest of his sisters-in-law, was recently engaged to a young man with a moderately sized estate in the south and expected to marry him in the summer. She had met him during her first London Season the previous autumn and their courtship had, according to Georgiana's – who had shared her coming out with Miss Kitty – information, been "very romantic, indeed." Mr Evans was not a particularly impressive man in regards to connections or fortune – his estate in Surrey being only slightly larger than his bride's childhood home – but he seemed a decent sort and undeniably besotted with the pretty Kitty Bennet.

In a most fortuitous coincidence, Kitty's new home would be located in Kingston, only a short distance away from the school she and two of her sisters had attended upon Darcy's recommendation – and Elizabeth and Jane's insistence – to improve their manners and afford them some accomplishments where before there had been none (or at least none likely to attract a husband). Mrs Goddard's school for young ladies was not a particularly eminent institution, but it provided a decent education for simple country girls requiring a firm hand and a bit of polish. Darcy had intended to send them to the same seminary that Georgiana had attended, but he had been soundly denied by his sister, who had despised the place utterly, and the Bennets who would not accept such charity; they preferred something more moderate and in line with their own social standing. At least, that had been Mr Bennet's opinion and, for once, his wife had not been able to convince him otherwise. It seemed that Darcy's father-in-law had more pride than anyone had suspected before. Or, perhaps, he was simply not of a mind to agree with Darcy on anything whenever it could be helped.

Upon the recommendation of an old school chum and personal solicitor, a Mr John Knightley, Darcy had then discovered Mrs Goddard's and a compromise had been reached. Mary, Kitty and Lydia had all been sent to the boarding school six months or so after the Darcys' marriage and done well there. The younger two's more improper behavior had not been tolerated there as it had been at home and they were thus forced to curb some of their more foolish impulses. They had then directed their wild energy into more acceptable pursuits and, with no red coated officers to distract him, had achieved some success. In addition, the attention of a high born lady from the area afforded them further motivation to become genteel young gentlewomen and they had blossomed.

Mary, for her part, found herself more willing to socialize with her fellow boarders than she had been with the young people of Meryton. She found their interests to be more in alignment with her own, her studiousness appreciated by the girls who required assistance in their lessons and overall her worth more recognized by those around her. Mary had enjoyed the role of teacher and mentor so much that, upon leaving school, she had chosen not to return to Longbourn at all, perhaps realizing that she would only be back to her former position of useless middle daughter. Instead, she had been accepted into the Gardiners' household as their governess. This situation had benefited all parties; the Gardiners had a well read and eager educator for their young ones and Mary was no longer consigned to the unenviable fate of spinster companion to her silly mother.

All best laid plans, however, go awry in some fashion and Mary was not a governess for above eight months before she met and subsequently married a solicitor friend of Mr Gardiner. Mr Winthrop was older than Mary by a significant margin at neatly fifteen years her senior, but his maturity was a boon to the quiet Miss Mary. They now lived in London a few streets away from the Gardiners who had been happy to relinquish their niece upon the joyful occasion of her marriage. Mr and Mrs Winthrop had been united for nearly a year at the present, their anniversary being in the summer, and had yet to be blessed with children of their own. They were now also, apparently, hosting Kitty so that she might remain in closer proximity to her Mr Evans who by common report preferred life in Town compared to that of his parents' retirement in the country.

Lydia had emerged from Mrs Goddard's much as she ever was – brash, bold and fearless. However, with the experiences obtained during her nearly three years of residence there and the maturity of more seasons to her name, she was not so ungovernable as she had been at fifteen. Lydia would always be lively and fond of a good laugh, but she had at least acquired some good sense and propriety to balance those tendencies and keep her wildness in check. She sometimes reminded Darcy of his own dearest Elizabeth now that her humor was tempered by greater wisdom and intelligence, though Lydia would never quite sparkle like her elder sister. Perhaps he was too partial to be a proper judge, however.

Lydia was due to come out in London society in the autumn and attend Georgiana, who was on her second season, though the youngest Bennet proclaimed herself in no hurry to find herself a husband. Elizabeth had confided in Darcy that she found Lydia's attitude on this topic to be very amusing, indeed, for it had been the girl's dream at fifteen to be married before all of her elder sisters. Lydia had apparently left that silliness behind, and all for the better in Darcy's opinion; as the flighty little coquette he had met in Hertfordshire in the autumn of 1811, Lydia would have surely driven her family to scandal had she made a sincere effort to attain her goal. No honorable gentleman would have wished to marry her as she had been then.

Lately, her letters to Georgiana had all proclaimed Lydia eager to partake of the delights afforded a single young lady at the height of her youth in the glittering society of London. She would, according to her own information, not settle down until she tired of doing so, causing Elizabeth to quip that Lydia might never marry in that case. Such would be a great disappointment to Richard who had taken quite a liking to the youngest Bennet daughter at various family functions throughout the years, despite the decades which separated them in age. But then, Richard had always preferred lively young women, even commenting once that had he met Elizabeth first he might have tried to tempt her away from Darcy (he had been roundly cuffed on the head for that remark). Perhaps if he could somehow promise Lydia even more fun – and Darcy chose not to fathom how that might be accomplished – he could sway her over to his way of thinking and lead her to the altar at last.

The most unsurprising fate of all the Bennet sisters belonged to the eldest who, after much stalling on Mrs Bennet's part (requiring the more firm intervention of Elizabeth to curb their mother's exuberance for wedding planning), Jane was finally married to Bingley in early April of 1812, only slightly over two months after the Darcys had said their own vows. It was really best case scenario, Elizabeth had informed him, as Mrs Bennet could have happily dug her heels in and submerged Longbourn in lace and breakfast details for a twelve month had she been allowed her way. Whatever torment she had been authorized to put the Bingleys through during those two short months had apparently worn their patience down and they had given up the lease on Netherfield the following September. They now resided in Derbyshire within thirty miles of Pemberley. The Bingleys had proven to be less fertile a couple than the Darcys, but had finally welcomed a daughter, Grace, into their household the previous summer at which point Miss Bingley had removed herself soon thereafter to London.

Miss Bingley, having spent the most fruitful years of her youth chasing after Darcy (or, more accurately, Pemberley), had missed her chance entirely for marriage and, at seven-and-twenty, was most decidedly on the shelf. Until little Grace had come along and driven her impatient auntie away, Miss Bingley had depended upon the kindness of her brother and his wife for her upkeep. Mrs Hurst, now the mother of her husband's heir, was no longer disposed to keep her unmarried sister's poisonous and increasingly bitter attitude under her roof; young Herbert was supposedly too delicate for such cold treatment as Miss Bingley offered children. Thus, Miss Bingley had moved permanently into her own establishment at a fashionable address in London the autumn immediately after Grace Bingley's birth, paid for out of the dowry which had been apparently not enough to tempt any man to take her.

Speaking of the Bingleys, "Did you say Jane would be bringing the others tomorrow, Papa?"

"That was the information I was provided with, yes. I chose to come ahead to spend time with my little Lizzy before we are interrupted by all that female nonsense. And I could not wait to give Penny her book."

As if summoned by the prospect of a present, the door to the hallway flew open and a little girl with a mop of curly dark hair bounded into the parlor with a great amount of enthusiasm. Little Penelope Darcy, not quite three years old, ran straight to where her grandfather was seated and threw herself into his lap. "Grandpapa!"

For all his faults as a father-in-law, Darcy would allow that Mr Bennet was an attentive and affectionate grandfather to the children. Even little Alex, who was more selective in who he would admit to holding him than his elder sister, was reaching for his grandpapa from his nurse's arms as she approached with the babe.

"I am so sorry, Mr Darcy, Mrs Darcy; she quite got away from me as we came inside," the nurse fretted as she struggled to contain Alex within her hold. "I shall instruct her again not to come into rooms with guests without proper invitation."

Elizabeth waved the babbling apologies away with an unaffected laugh. "Do not concern yourself, Abby; sometimes children of her age will do as they do, especially when a favored person is visiting." Her gaze traveled to where Penny was perched upon Mr Bennet's lap; he was just unveiling the promised book of fairy tales and the child was suitably impressed. "It would not hurt to have a reminder of good behavior, of course, but you are not in any sort of trouble."

"Thank you, ma'am."

As Abby acceded to Alex's fussy insistence to also be brought closer to his grandfather, Darcy leaned closer to his wife to whisper in her ear, "It is your father I would wish to scold, not Penny. What can he be thinking, inviting them all here for an entire month without an invitation?"

"Technically speaking, Husband," Elizabeth hissed back, her brows arched upward, "they did have an invitation to Penny's birthday celebration."

Darcy was tempted to remind his wife that this same celebration was not scheduled for some time yet and a letter with advance notice of their coming would still have been polite, but he held it back.

She must have seen something of his continued irritation on his face, however, for Elizabeth tipped slightly closer and kissed him upon the cheek. The children and nurse were all absorbed in whatever Mr Bennet was saying so none witnessed the slyly executed affection between husband and wife. "Do not pout, sir, for it is unbecoming."

"I do not pout."

"No, of course not," Elizabeth agreed immediately, though her expression suggested that she was humoring him. Darcy stiffened and fixed her with a frown he knew she would not be intimidated by. "However, considering your romantic assignation was interrupted by my father's arrival, I feel obligated to make it up to you in some way."

Darcy straightened in his seat, immediately at attention, and Elizabeth laughed softly at him.

"Not this moment, Fitzwilliam," she whispered and he deflated slightly. Naturally, they would both have to attend their guest and their normal duties before they could resume their activities of earlier, but in his excitement he had quite forgotten the order of things and disappointed himself. "Come to me tonight when we will not suffer any interruptions. I shall submit myself to that punishment you thought so fitting earlier and grovel for any offenses of others that have spoiled your mood."

"It is a deal, Mrs Darcy."

o0o

Thursday March 7, 1816

It was a glorious day for the beginning of March in Derbyshire. The temperature was a touch cool for most, but the sun was warm and round in the blue sky and Elizabeth was not of a mind to complain. She dropped her eyelids closed, raised her face to heaven and absorbed the sunlight like an early spring flower. Being out of doors, especially on a day like Elizabeth was currently experiencing, was always an effective method of calming inner chaos.

"I thought I might find the two of you here."

Elizabeth relinquished her basking pose with a smile and no regrets. She turned toward her elder sister, still the image of a perfect English rose, and said, "Jane! Papa said that you might come today. Forgive me for not standing to greet you properly." Shifting her arms slightly, Elizabeth gave Jane a brief peek at the face of the sleeping infant cradled comfortably against her shoulder.

Jane lowered herself daintily to the blanket spread out for Elizabeth and the newest Darcy, her skirts folding neatly beneath her knees as she knelt next to them. She bent closer to the slumbering bundle and slowly, gently pulled the swaddling to the side so that she might gaze upon the babe unhindered. "He is truly the very image of his father, Lizzy. Fitzwilliam must be so proud."

"You mean more so than usual?" Elizabeth quipped; the babe shied away from the bright sunlight his auntie had exposed him to and nuzzled deeper into his mother's bosom. "I will say in my husband's defense that Alex here will be as handsome as his papa one day. Where is little Grace?"

"With the nurse; Penny wished to show her the new volume of fairy tales her grandpapa brought her." Jane withdrew to sit beside her younger sister, unwilling to disturb six month Alex any further.

Elizabeth's eyes arced upward to the sky, yet smiled with fondness. "And I am sure my daughter cares not whether her little cousin is old enough to appreciate such things."

"Grace will like the pictures, at least."

"Of course."

The two sisters settled into a companionable silence and gazed out upon the view. It was Elizabeth's favorite spot close to the manor house – she had other preferences further yonder into the woods, near the peaks and on the other side of the lake – because it most spectacularly represented the best of what Pemberley had to offer. They were seated on a slight rise and were afforded a nearly panoramic vista of lush fields, newly green with fresh life, to their left and right and directly below them at the base of the slope was the lake. It was actually a stream swelled to greater prominence, but it was so wide and deep in places that it might as well be called a lake as not, in Elizabeth's opinion. A forest, tall and mighty, curved around the far bank and shielded their privacy from the outside world. The house itself was to their backs and stood as if benevolently observing its surroundings, it's sandstone walls blending almost seamlessly into the environment as if Pemberley had sprung up from the earth like another mountain.

As much as Elizabeth loved and appreciated this spot for its soothing qualities, she still felt quite agitated after the events of the day before. To think that her father, against all requests, pleas and outright demands Elizabeth had heaped upon him in the past five years, would still show up unannounced at Pemberley just to rankle poor Fitzwilliam...Elizabeth would have felt some sympathy for what her mother surely went through at the sharp end of Mr Bennet's teasing if Mrs Bennet had not been party to this latest scheme. Her husband was most displeased and Elizabeth could hardly blame him; this behavior must stop.

Elizabeth breathed deeply and huffed the gathered air back out immediately. She gazed into the near distance, observing the way the sunlight glittered upon the ripples spreading across the lake, and attempted to calm her agitation. Jane would not appreciate a disparaging tone regarding anyone, least of all someone – or a group of someones – she loved. "I suppose you brought Mama and Lydia with you, as well? Papa said they would likely be coming today."

"Yes," Jane confirmed, her own breath whooshing out of her in a sigh; it was the closest she would ever come to openly disapproving. "They are up at the house taking tea with Georgiana. Charles and Fitzwilliam, I think, are out riding and Papa must be – "

" – in the library, where else?" Elizabeth finished for Jane with a small, wry laugh. "He will surely hole himself up in there for his entire visit as he does at home. I rather wonder why he bothers to come all the way to Derbyshire to do so; perhaps he tires of the look of his own books and wishes to look upon my husband's?"

"Lizzy."

Elizabeth, having failed to rein in the annoyance she had intended to mask for Jane's sake, took in another deep breath and released it more slowly. She then turned to her elder sister, who was gazing upon her with a touch of sternness about the lines of her expression, and smiled. "Forgive me, Jane, but I have not your goodness – and neither does Fitzwilliam. I admit, we were both a little put out when Papa appeared on our doorstep yesterday. Tell me, did they give you any indication of their plans, or were you equally surprised?"

Jane shook her head in the negative. "I am sure they did not mean to put anyone out."

"Perhaps not," Elizabeth conceded, more so to reflect Jane's opinion than her own, "but they must have been aware of the very great upheaval their sudden appearance would cause. Every time I think they have grown a little in sense and decorum – "

"Lizzy."

Elizabeth laughed and Alex shifted fussily in her arms, disturbed by the sudden noise. He settled back into his swaddling, however, and was otherwise unaffected. "I fear you are going to be scolding me all day, for I really am quite irritated at this latest farce. I have asked Papa time and again not to show up here unannounced, to at least send a letter ahead of himself so that we might have a little warming, but he likes to tweak Fitzwilliam's nose so much that I fear he will always be doing it."

"At least they get on better than they did at first," Jane commented diplomatically. "And considering the...the unpleasantness during your engagement period, it could be much worse than it is."

"I suppose you must be right," Elizabeth admitted, lowering her gaze to her sleeping son. Alex looked so much like his papa, even in the way his brow crinkled. She had never known such a serious child! Penny had come into the world as a ball of noise and had yet to cease her caterwauling, precious thing. She spared a soft smile for both of her children and felt calm spread through her. "I am still unhappy with the way Papa taunts my husband, but at least they can be civil to one another. And I know that Papa does it all in good fun, that he means nothing truly malicious by his antics, but I still wish he would be more considerate of mine and Fitzwilliam's feelings on the subject. It is no longer as funny as it once was."

Jane's brow was lowered and she was nibbling at her lower lip. She was clearly torn between the desire of defending their family and soothing Elizabeth's ire and finding difficulty in treading the middle ground between. "Perhaps if you speak to Papa again..."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I have and he just laughed, saying that Fitzwilliam should learn to be teased a little. There is no reasoning with him." In her husband's defense, Fitzwilliam had taken quite well to being teased over the years by his wife, but was less patient with his father-in-law's brand of tomfoolery. "Come, let us change the subject to one less rife with conflict."

"Agreed," Jane said, relief evident in the way her shoulders slumped slightly downward. "Have you heard from Charlotte lately?"

"She sent me a letter just last week; little Catherine has taken quite well to her little sisters, though she complains of the noise. This makes three girls for the Collinses and I suspect our cousin is beside himself. I suggested to Charlotte that they attempt for five altogether and she was most amused by the thought."

The sisters laughed together at the thought of yet another family settled at Longbourn with an excess of daughters. Elizabeth thought it would be a novel kind of retribution to saddle a man who had attempted to utilize the lack of an heir in his cousin's brood to wrangle himself an unwilling wife with a bevy of girls who would need to be married off to the highest bidder. It amused her to picture Mr Collins aflutter with nerves over seeing them all safely disposed of to respectable gentlemen in another dozen years or so.

"I am sure Mr Collins is very pleased, regardless of the twins' gender," said Jane at length. "For all his faults, Charlotte considers him a good father."

'Mostly because he stays out of Charlotte's way and allows her to tend the children,' Elizabeth thought to herself, but did not say. Truly, Mr Collins' best quality was his ability to heed his wife's orders, especially since Lady Catherine's passing four years prior. Once the old dame had gone to meet her reward in the hereafter, Charlotte had taken up the reins of her marriage and molded Mr Collins into something almost respectable. He was still rather dull and incurably loquacious, but when led by a sensible person like Charlotte he was almost tolerable company. Not quite, but almost; whenever they visited Richard at Rosings Park Mr Collins was there to greet them at the parsonage gates and it was not as much a chore as it could have been to speak with him.

Elizabeth had wondered and fretted for some time over the state of her friend's marriage, especially while Lady Catherine yet lived, but once the bitter harridan had passed from a rage-induced apoplexy – no one could quite say what she had lathered herself up about, but whatever it had been had been enough to finish her off – Charlotte had seized her opportunity to arrange their lives to her wishes. Being a woman of greater intelligence and stronger will than the imbecile Mr Collins, Charlotte had reordered their lives into something resembling happiness with no regard to her husband's thoughts on the matter.

For Mr Collins' part, he seemed content enough with the new arrangement; it seemed that all he required was a strong head to lead him and he was satisfied with his lot. According to Mr Bennet, the elder Mr Collins, William Sr, had been a cruel, forceful man and so his son had been raised to heed commands rather than make them. Lady Catherine had been much the same. With Charlotte, Mr Collins at least had a kinder mistress than he had experienced previously; there was no manhandling or belittling, no bruises or condescension, only a firm hand and the reward of a productive life.

Mr Collins had at first, of course, looked to Miss Anne de Bourgh for new leadership after the passing of the young lady's mother, but Elizabeth's cousin-by-marriage had neither the strength of body or of character to fill this void for the parson, leaving him to the tender mercies of his wife. Instead, Anne had thrown herself into the power of her uncle, the earl, and moved to London within a month of Lady Catherine's funeral where she could carry out her mourning in the bosom of whatever family she had remaining. She was still a sickly, fragile thing, but she thrived upon the attention lavished upon her by the team of doctors hired by the earl and countess to see to her every sneeze.

Richard, too, had benefited from this new arrangement in that Anne, who had never intended to marry at all, and certainly not Elizabeth's Fitzwilliam as her late mother had wished, named him her heir. While she yet lived, it technically remained part of her dowry, but Anne had encouraged him to reside at the estate and take it over at his leisure, which he eventually had after resigning his commission. Mr Collins found not the patience in the former colonel to be his new master and so did not bother straying from Charlotte's guidance.

And, now that Richard was in her mind, Elizabeth asked Jane, "Is Lydia still intent that she will not marry this season?"

Jane shrugged one shoulder. "That is what she says, though I cannot think she would turn down an eligible offer should one be made to her. She must see how happily situated the rest of her sisters are and would wish for that herself."

"I think Lydia has always gone her own way," Elizabeth noted, which Jane conceded was the truth, "but if Richard should pay court to her in Town this season, I suspect she would be much tempted to accept him. Sometimes I wonder if she says such things only to increase his love by suspense for she must know that Georgiana is playing matchmaker between them."

"That does seem like our Lydia..."

"It would have honestly surprised me more if she had not made him work for her attention," quipped Elizabeth. "Lydia has always been fond of a bit of fawning."

"I am sure – "

Jane's thoughts were abruptly cut short as Alex let out a pitiful wail, indicating that he was both awake and quite famished. Elizabeth soothed him by patting his back and whispering words of love into his soft dark curls, but he persisted in wailing despite his mother's attempts.

"I'll take him, ma'am." The wet nurse, who had been lurking in the background and awaiting her charge's next feeding, stepped forward and bent down to take the babe. Elizabeth relinquished her son with some melancholy; they had been having such a nice time.

Elizabeth watched the wet nurse carry Alex into the house and sighed as soon as they were out of sight. "I suppose we should go in and take tea with our relations. Mama and Lydia must be wondering where I have got to."

"Lizzy, we could all guess where you were," said Jane as she stood, dusting invisible dirt from her gown. Her face was wreathed in an indulgent smile. "I was the search party."

Elizabeth laughed and copied her elder sister by climbing to her feet. Hooking her arm through Jane's, Pemberley's mistress began the short stroll back into her palatial home where her family waited for her.

o0o

The corners of Elizabeth's lips curled into a grin as she felt the curtain of her hair pushed aside to allow the exploration of her husband's lips. His hot breath ruffled the small curls against her neck and the sensation was as ticklish as it was arousing. "I see Hannah has abandoned me to your mercies, sir."

Fitzwilliam nuzzled just behind the shell of her left ear and began teasing the lobe with the tip of his tongue. "She was ordered to save herself or face my wrath."

Elizabeth chuckled and spun around on her vanity chair, forcing Fitzwilliam to back away slightly. "If I thought you had really said such a thing to my maid I would be forced to scold you, Husband. However, I suspect all you did was glower at her and she scurried away without a word."

"I did not glower." Elizabeth raised her knowing eyebrow at him and Fitzwilliam capitulated, "Perhaps I looked a little stern."

Turning back to her image in the mirror, Elizabeth resumed rubbing lotion into her hands and arms as Fitzwilliam lurked behind her, expectant. "I suppose you are here to collect on my promise from Wednesday."

"I am," he concurred, resting his hands upon the crests of her shoulders. His voice was directly in her ear, a throaty whisper, as he continued, "Come to bed, Wife."

Elizabeth bit her lips together to fight off the smile she was struggling to conceal. She had never been as adept at maintaining a straight facade in the face of humorous circumstances as Fitzwilliam was, but she wished to tease him a little longer. "On the contrary, I believe my offer of recompense is now void. You may return to your chambers for the evening." Elizabeth waved her hand in a shooing motion for emphasis.

Fitzwilliam lowered his face until they were cheek-to-cheek, his eyes narrowed at their reflections in the looking glass. Elizabeth schooled her features as best she could, but she knew he suspected a game was afoot. "I was promised some of your lovely company for all the inconvenience I have been suffering."

"Inconvenience?" Elizabeth scoffed, her lips twitching. "I might have felt some sympathy for you at first, but that was before you spent the entire day with Charles riding about the estate, leaving me behind to attend to all of our guests. You should have come for your prize last night." Most unfortunately for him, she had been called away to the nursery before he had come upstairs the night before, thus forcing them to reschedule their rendezvous yet again. He had clearly made an effort to be upstairs earlier tonight since he was interrupting her toilette.

In the mirror, Elizabeth could see Fitzwilliam's handsome face cringe guiltily. So he had intentionally left her alone to her mother, sisters and children, as she had guessed. Well, that deserved a bit of revenge.

Tilting her nose up into the air, Elizabeth said, in the haughty tone which was reminiscent of the late Lady Catherine de Bourgh in all her regal splendor, "I believe that I am now the aggrieved party, Fitzwilliam, and as such you must pay atonement."

Fitzwilliam lost his air of contrition instantly and his mouth stretched into a mischievous grin. "I am prepared to grovel at your feet, if I must," he said, turning his face so that his nose was once again buried in her hair. Elizabeth shuddered as his fingers slid slowly down her arms, leaving tingling trails in their wake.

Clearing her throat with a little cough, another imperious affectation which also happened to alleviate the squeak in her voice, Elizabeth corrected, "It is not my feet at which I wish you to grovel."

The ribbon on the front of her nightdress loosened as Fitzwilliam's wandering fingers unraveled the knot. His voice was deep and rumbling as he acquiesced to her demands. "I shall do so all night if I must."

Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed my story at least as much as I enjoyed writing it; it was fun taking the angsty road for once (and, yes, this is pretty much as angsty as I get) and throwing crazy villains into the mix. We're all done now, but there's plenty more in my profile in case you miss me and so much more that I have planned in the future.

Thanks for reading, faving, following and reviewing. I've been humbled by your patronage :)

Next Update: NONE! We done, y'all.
Expected Completion Date: NOW! Huzzah!

As the approval for bonus explicit chapters is apparently universal, however, you can expect to see a little bit extra tacked onto the end sometime soon. Can't say when, exactly, because other projects are demanding my attention, but I'm hoping by the end of March 2020. For now, I'm still marking this story as COMPLETE!

– MrsMarySmythe