33. Chapter 33

Chapter 32

Darcy awoke with a start, his eyes opening to total darkness, leaving him disoriented and anxious. Lying on his back, the oppressive silence was punctuated with the sounds of his racing heart and gasps for air. He squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to rid his mind of the agonizing images that had played out in his head. Elizabeth! He struggled to free himself from the tangled bedclothes that had wound tightly around his legs from his violent thrashing. Finally freeing himself, he lighted a candle with a trembling hand, eager to dispel the darkness from his room and the disturbing images from his mind. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he ran his hands through his sweat soaked hair, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

It was just a dream. He forced those words into his head, repeating them over and over as he took deep even breaths. Unbidden, lingering images from his nightmare replayed in his head and he closed his eyes at the sharp pain in his heart, filling his soul with anguish. He groaned, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, his hands buried in his hair. Elizabeth was his. He would never leave her! But the look of anguish on his beloved Elizabeth's face as he turned and walked away from her was burned into his mind. His heart twisted in agony at the mere thought of being separated from her. Not real. It was just a dream. He yanked his hair, nearly tearing it out by the roots, preferring physical pain over the agony in his heart. Never. He would never let anything separate them.

As his heart rate slowed to its normal rhythm, he stood, walking to the washbasin to splash cold water on his face. As he reached for the cloth, he suddenly recalled a similar nightmare of being separated from Elizabeth. It had occurred after he and Richard had discovered Gardiners deception in falsifying his reports on finding Williamson. As that thought took root in his mind, he stilled, oblivious to the cold water dripping down his face and onto his nightshirt. Closing his eyes, he leaned forward, grasping the edges of the wash stand, fighting to keep the panic from overwhelming his rational mind. It was a dream, simply a dream! No doubt discovering that Williamson had been deceived and separated from the woman he loved had led to his nightmare of being separated from Elizabeth. It had been an emotionally trying time; it was natural that his mind had conjured up a similar scenario. Nothing. It means nothing. He took a deep breath, forcing the disquieting images from his mind.

Without looking at his watch he knew it was about an hour before dawn; too early to call for his valet. Needing a distraction, his eyes fell on his writing desk and he smiled. Conjuring up an image of his beautiful Elizabeth, he sat and began to compose his daily letter to her. Words of love, adoration, appreciation and hope for their future flowed from his pen, each stroke dispelling the lingering darkness from his mind and the pain in his heart. He held nothing back, but bore his soul to the woman whom he loved completely and unreservedly. He wrote without pause until the sun began to rise, slowly filling the room with its radiant light. He finished as the rays of the sun passed over his letter, the heavenly light blessing his words of love. He smiled in contentment as he leaned back in the chair, his nightmare but a distant memory.

Standing, he went to the window, gazing out at the garden below him. Closing his eyes, he imagined Elizabeth beside him, holding her close in his embrace as they watched the sunrise together, signifying another day that she was truly his. He sighed. Soon. Soon, his dreams of Elizabeth would become a reality. He would secure her hand on Friday and three weeks later he would bind her to him in front of God and man, and nothing would ever come between them.

Opening his eyes, he glanced to his right, half expecting to see Elizabeth smiling up at him, her eyes aglow with love and happiness. The vision was so real, he swallowed the sudden rising lump in his throat, tears obscuring his eyes. Blinking rapidly, he bowed his head, thanking God again for bringing Elizabeth into his life, for making his dreams possible. Never could he have imagined such happiness and peace were meant for him.

Gathering his emotions, he rang for his valet, eager to start the day. He had some pressing matters of business to attend to that morning and the sooner he started, the sooner he could be with Elizabeth.

Despite his early start, Darcy didn't arrive at Gardiners until after one o'clock. Business always took longer than he expected, especially when he had neglected matters for nearly a fortnight. But he felt no regrets at his temporary lack of responsibility, as his time had been spent in much more pleasant endeavors-spending his days with Elizabeth. But there were business matters that could be delayed no longer. The most important and pressing matter of business had been with his solicitor, going over the settlement papers and marriage contract he had drafted the day after he had first seen Elizabeth at Lynton's ball. He wanted to be sure that everything was in order for his journey to Hertfordshire on Friday, wanting no delays in securing Elizabeth's hand. If all went well, he would meet with the Master of Longbourn by noon, and be on his way back to London by three o'clock.

As he ascended the steps to Gardiners, he glanced up at the sky, reassuring himself that the sun was indeed shining brightly. He smiled, breathing a prayer of thanks for the cessation of rain. He feared for his sanity if he had to spend another day with Elizabeth confined to the Drawing Room, with little privacy and no time alone. Although, yesterday had proven to be the exception. He smiled to himself as he thought of their stolen kiss under the not so watchful gaze of Elizabeth's sister. Although, judging by the vivid blush on Miss Bennet's face and her inability to meet their gazes had clearly indicated that their secret kiss had not been so secret after all.

"Happy are we?" Richard smirked at his bright-eyed cousin as they approached the large door, behind which held their two lady loves.

Darcy raised his brows. "Of course. Another day spent with the woman I love. And," he added with a grin, "it's not raining. Which means I can conveniently get lost with Elizabeth in the park."

Richard only laughed as the door was opened by Gardiners efficient and capable butler, Simmons.

The two gentlemen followed Simmons, walking the familiar path to the Drawing Room, each of their thoughts centered on a particular Bennet sister.

Richard leaned over and whispered, "You might want to keep your strategy a secret cousin lest I thwart you in your attempt to steal some time alone with your Miss Elizabeth."

"I'm not worried."

"No?" Richard rubbed his chin, a mischievous smile on his face. "And why is that, I wonder?"

Pausing outside the door as Simmons announced them, Darcy said quietly, "Because I am certain you are hoping for the same thing." He gave Richard a knowing smile. "Make good use of your time today, cousin. Bingley has called on your Miss Bennet twice in the past two days." Darcy smiled wider as he heard Richard growl beside him.

"That insufferable puppy! While I perform my duty to king and country, I get upstaged by a man child!" Richard hissed in an undertone.

Darcy cleared his throat to suppress his laughter. Shaking his head, he entered the Drawing Room, his gaze eagerly searching for Elizabeth. As their gazes locked, he sucked in a breath at the unadulterated love shining from her luminous brown eyes. She was glowing. He walked towards her, unaware of anyone or anything but her; the remarkable woman who held his undeserving heart in her small hands. They stood silent, communicating more eloquently with their eyes than mere spoken words.

Slowly, Elizabeth reached out, tenderly taking his hand in hers, bringing his palm to rest against her cheek. She sighed, closing her eyes at the simple contact, completely at peace. Each day since Saturday, he had sent her a letter as he had promised. Four letters, each more beautiful than the last. But today's letter...her heart raced as she remembered his words. Beautiful. Poignant. Passionate. Never had she felt so beloved, so adored. She knew that he loved her, but his letter today had banished any lingering doubts she had. Her heart rejoiced in the sure knowledge that he was hers. Completely. Irrevocably. Hers.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, her gaze conveying everything she felt without speaking a word. The intimacy of the moment was not lost on either. Heedless of who was watching, Darcy slowly stepped closer, bringing his other hand up to rest against her soft cheek. Leaning in, he tenderly kissed her forehead, before dropping his lips to linger at her temple. A subtle throat clearing brought them back to the present, but for once, neither cared. Darcy gently caressed her face before lightly resting his hands on her shoulders. Elizabeth trembled at the look in his gaze, and she slowly smiled, her heart full of love for the man standing before her.

Has there ever been a man who loved a woman as much as I love you? Fitzwilliam's cherished words from his letter that morning came to her mind, causing her heart to race anew. Seeing Fitzwilliam's eyes widen, she realized with a start that she had spoken the words aloud. Refusing to be embarrassed, she held his gaze and whispered, "That I know not, Fitzwilliam. I only know that no woman has ever loved a man more deeply, more completely than I love you."

"Elizabeth-" Darcy breathed, his eyes melting into hers. He cupped her face, caressing her cheek with his thumb, wishing they were alone so he could properly show her the depth of his love.

Mrs Gardiner cleared her throat again to get the young lovers attention. She remembered those early days of her own betrothal to Edward and she was not unsympathetic to their plight. She knew that whatever was passing between her niece and Mr Darcy was profound and significant, but she felt it incumbent upon her to remind them to behave with propriety. Especially since poor Jane looked like she would rather be anywhere but witnessing such a tender moment between the two acknowledged lovers. And the Colonel...she stifled a laugh at the unabashed look on his face as he gazed at his cousin and Elizabeth.

Deciding that further steps were needed to break the lover's spell, she asked in a rather loud voice, "I understand that you are traveling to Hertfordshire on Friday to secure Elizabeth's hand, Mr Darcy."

Without breaking Elizabeth's gaze, Darcy answered in the affirmative, running his hands down her arms to clasp her hands in each of his.

"I believe that is most prudent," Mrs Gardiner replied, nodding her head sagely.

Elizabeth tore her gaze from her betrothed to glance at her Aunt. Seeing her knowing smile and twinkling eyes, she blushed a becoming crimson. Moving her gaze to her sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam, her blush deepened at seeing her sisters obvious discomfort and the Colonel's amusement at their blatant display. Glancing back at Fitzwilliam, she was unsurprised that his eyes were still locked on her face, oblivious to anything but her; his intense gaze full of longing and unspoken promises.

With a slight blush to her cheeks, she turned to address the entire room. "It is a lovely day. Perhaps we could all take a turn about the park?"

Darcy's answering smile was exultant. "You read my mind, Miss Elizabeth." Turning to his cousin, standing next to a blushing Miss Bennet, he raised his brows and asked, "Is that agreeable to you both?"

Jane mumbled something unintelligibly, her crimson face turned away from the Colonel. The Colonel gazed at her, his expression tender as he answered, "Very agreeable, cousin."

Mrs Gardiner excused herself, stating she had some correspondence to write, trusting that each sister would act as chaperone for the other. If she only knew...Darcy exchanged a triumphant look with his cousin before returning his attention to Elizabeth.

Soon, the two couples were walking leisurely toward the park, Jane and Richard walking ahead of the engaged couple. Darcy and Elizabeth walked silently, arm in arm, content in each others presence and being out of doors after being confined inside for three interminable days. After a short time, Darcy asked if Elizabeth had talked with her Uncle.

Elizabeth shook her head. "He is not ready to face me yet, Fitzwilliam." She smiled sadly. "He needs to work through his demons on his own. My Aunt told me to be patient."

Darcy nodded, bringing his free hand to cover hers resting on his arm. "He will come around, Elizabeth. He has carried his guilt for a long time. I imagine it cannot be easy to come to terms with his failings as a brother."

Elizabeth looked up at Fitzwilliam's serious face. "But did he fail my mother?" She shook her head. "I am of the opinion that he was simply doing what he thought was best."

Darcy halted their progress. Trying to keep his temper under control, he asked in a tight voice, "And if someone tried to separate you from me? Would you also think that was best?"

Elizabeth stared open mouthed at Fitzwilliam, her face going white. "No," she whispered. "No, of course not." She tried desperately to remain composed as her heart constricted in pain; the very thought of being separated from Fitzwilliam was too painful to contemplate.

Seeing Elizabeth's whitened countenance, Darcy felt immediate remorse. "Forgive me, my love. Of course, it is not the same." Darcy mentally kicked himself. How could he be so callous? His nightmare of being separated from Elizabeth had affected him more intensely than he thought. He knew his fears were unwarranted; their situation was nothing like Williamson and Mrs Bennet. There was nothing or no one standing in their way. All would be well.

Elizabeth didn't respond and they resumed their leisurely pace. As they entered the park and started down their preferred path, she thought of Fitzwilliam's question. What could she say? She had thought the exact same thing, imaging herself in her Mother's place, being separated from the man she loved and had agreed to marry. She closed her eyes, forcing that agonizing thought away. She opened her eyes, startled to see that Fitzwilliam was staring at her, his eyes full of remorse and...fear?

Elizabeth smiled reassuringly. "Please, don't trouble yourself, Fitzwilliam. I understand what you are saying. I am not excusing my Uncle or my Father's behavior. Lying to Mr Williamson and my mother was very badly done, but they didn't do so maliciously. They both acted out of love for my Mother, thinking that they knew what was best for her."

"And was it, Elizabeth? Is your mother happy with their choice?"

Elizabeth sighed deeply, looking down. "No, she is not." She then proceeded to explain what Jane had told her, about her Mother never being pleased with anything. That her discontentment in life stemmed from her inability to find joy in her life, regardless of what she did or did not have. "She would have been unhappy even if she had married Mr Williamson, Fitzwilliam. Of that, I am quite certain."

Darcy contemplated Elizabeth's words. As he thought about Gardiner and Bennet and their motives, surprisingly, he felt his heart soften towards the two men. He pitied Mr Bennet; to be burdened with such a bitter and spiteful woman. Did Bennet regret his decision to separate the object of his affections from a seemingly undeserving clerk? Would he make the same decision again? Whatever his motives, Bennet's ill judged decision gave him Elizabeth. And for that, he would be forever grateful for that decision made years ago.

As he delved deeper into Bennet's possible motive, he was left with an astonishing truth. Bennet had acted as a man desperately in love. He placed himself in Bennet's position. What if another man had secured Elizabeth's affections? The mere thought of Elizabeth with another man caused his heart to constrict with the acutest pain. What would he have done to secure her hand, make her his? Could he fault Bennet for doing what was necessary to secure the woman he loved? As he pondered this chain of thought, he realized something he had overlooked. If Bennet had truly loved Elizabeth's mother, he would have acted in a manner that was best for her, regardless of how he felt. He would have asked her, instead of deceiving her, making the decision to marry her without her consent. He had acted selfishly, thinking only of his own happiness and not of the woman he purported to love. And that was why he could not condone Bennet's decision. Heaven forbid, if he were in a similar situation and if he truly loved Elizabeth, he would do anything to secure her happiness. Even if it meant that happiness was with someone else.

Upon further reflection, he found he couldn't fault Gardiners motives either. If he was in Gardiners place, and a clerk and gentleman came to offer for his sister, assuming that the gentleman was of good character, he would have made the exact same decision. What brother didn't want his sister to be well provided for? A small voice in the back of his mind whispered, what about love? Mutual affection? Respect? Could he deny his sister true love? Sacrifice her happiness for respectability and financial security? He gave a mental groan. This was a pointless endeavor! He was not in the same situation, and for that he was thankful.

Towards Williamson, he felt nothing but compassion. Obviously, he didn't know the true nature of the woman he had pledged himself to. In his opinion, he had a lucky escape. Perhaps it was best that he mourned the idealized woman he had loved, instead of living with the reality of the bitter woman she would have become. Towards Mrs Bennet, he could never feel anything but contempt due to her horrendous treatment of the woman he loved. He felt she had received what she deserved; a woman like that didn't deserve happiness.

Elizabeth glanced up at Fitzwilliam's contemplative expression, knowing he was taking the time to consider her opinion. Most men would have just dismissed her opinions without giving them any consideration. But not her Fitzwilliam. She truly had found a partner, an equal to share her life with. Although he had a greater understanding due to his life experiences and education, he never made her feel that her opinions were less valued than his own. Even when he disagreed with her, he was always respectful. Was it any wonder she loved him so? She sighed happily, knowing that life with Fitzwilliam would be wonderful, idyllic, heavenly; a true meeting of like minds and hearts. But she was not so naïve to believe that they would not have their trials and disagreements. They each had such passionate and independent natures, there was bound to be discord. But the foundation of their relationship was based on mutual respect and unconditional love. She knew she could trust him, with her heart, her life, her dreams as well as her insecurities and fears. With that knowledge, she knew they would be blissfully happy. She was pulled from her happy musings as Fitzwilliam began speaking, his voice measured but firm.

"I cannot fault Gardiner for his actions, as I would have acted in like manner. Like you, I cannot condone his methods, but I have to concede that his motives were pure." Darcy gave Elizabeth a small smile. "As for your father, I find myself somewhat sympathetic towards him. He acted as a man in love. And that I can understand quite well. However, he acted selfishly, giving no thought to what your mother wanted. I understand that she was young and immature, but no man should treat the woman he loves with such disrespect. Even when he feels he is right." He glanced down at Elizabeth, noticing the tears she was trying desperately to blink away.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy's brow lowered in puzzlement. He stopped, forcing her to look at him with a gentle finger under her chin.

Elizabeth met Fitzwilliam's questioning look and she smiled. "Thank you, Fitzwilliam. For listening and trying to understand. It means so much to me. You truly are the best man I have ever known."

Darcy felt a wave of tenderness and love sweep over him as he gazed at Elizabeth, her eyes full of gratitude. "I meant what I said, Elizabeth. I will always treat you with the respect you deserve. That is my promise to you, my love." Darcy took a deep breath, before continuing, his voice hard. "But, there is one person whose actions I can never justify nor condone." Darcy paused as he searched Elizabeth's face. He saw understanding dawn in her brown eyes and she nodded her head, a resigned smile on her lovely face.

"My mother," she whispered.

Darcy nodded slowly. "Yes, your mother. She's hurt you, Elizabeth, deeply. The disdain of a mother towards her own child is inexcusable, unnatural, unforgiveable. I have seen firsthand the pain she's caused, and I cannot forgive her for that. I understand that you need to, and I accept that. But please, don't ask me to."

Elizabeth looked at Fitzwilliam, the pain clearly evident in his eyes. She understood, truly she did. He couldn't contemplate a Mother's contempt, having known nothing but love and acceptance from his own Mother. Although, they were more similar than he realized: She was not the only one who had been deeply hurt by their Mother, they each bore emotional scars that needed healing. She vowed to help Fitzwilliam overcome the hurt from his Mother's passing as he was helping her overcome her Mother's disdain.

"I understand, Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth said softly, her eyes conveying acceptance and sympathy.

Relieved, Darcy kissed her gloved hand before tucking it firmly under his arm. They resumed walking in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Elizabeth realized there was no sign of the Colonel or Jane. She smiled softly to herself, hopeful that he would take advantage of the time to finally ask her sister that all important question. As they neared the grove of trees where she'd had her conversation with Mr Williamson the week before, they stopped. She let her mind drift back to that day and all she had learned about Mr Williamson and her mother, and later about her Uncle and Father. She could not regret Mr Williamson's ruse to get her alone as their conversation had been the beginning of better understanding her Mother, Father, Uncle and even herself. She felt a sudden wave of compassion for the dying man who had stayed true to her mother's memory.

She glanced up at Fitzwilliam and immediately all thoughts of Mr Williamson fled her mind as she met his eyes, his gaze burning her with its intensity. She saw the unspoken question clearly in his eyes and her heart rate picked up in breathless anticipation. He steered her toward the grove of trees, his stride quick, his expression impatient. Elizabeth huffed a small laugh causing Fitzwilliam to look down at her with an apologetic smile, but he didn't slow his movements until they had reached the secluded privacy of the trees.

Wordlessly they gazed at each other, the anticipation slowly building as they stared into each other's eyes. Fitzwilliam quickly divested himself of his hat and gloves, dropping them carelessly to the ground. Then with slow, deliberate movements he removed her bonnet, dropping it to the ground beside his own. Raising one hand, he carefully removed her glove before pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner wrist, his lips lingering on her fluttering pulse before repeating the same service to her other hand.

Closing the distance between them, he raised his hand and with a finger he slowly caressed each feature of her face with adoring tenderness, his eyes following the movement, his expression soft and full of love. Elizabeth closed her eyes as his finger passed over her lids with the gentlest of touches.

"I love your eyes, Elizabeth." His low voice traced each word with loving reverence. "They see into the depths of my soul and when I gaze into them I discover who I am meant to be."

Elizabeth felt her eyes sting with unshed tears as she recognized the beautiful words from his letter that morning. He lowered his head, gently rubbing his lips at her temple as he continued to whisper words of adoration and love. She discerned his sincerity in every word, every gentle caress. She let his words wash over her, soothing her battered soul and healing the scars caused by her Mother's disdain.

Fitzwilliam gently pressed his forefinger on her breast, over her rapidly beating heart, and reverently whispered, "But most of all, I love your kind and generous heart, of which I will strive to be worthy every day of my life."

Elizabeth opened her eyes, causing a single tear to run down her cheek. Fitzwilliam gently brushed it away with the back of his hand before gently cupping her face, his thumb rubbing slowly and incessantly over her lower lip. He stared into her eyes for a long moment, before his gaze dropped to her lips. With a contented sigh, Elizabeth once again closed her eyes, lifting her chin to receive Fitzwilliam's kiss. Unlike yesterday's stolen and clandestine kiss, which had been full of unrestrained passion and need, this kiss was tender, his touch gentle as his mouth covered hers in slow, worshipful movements; conveying in the most eloquent way possible the depth of his love and devotion.

Elizabeth felt her heart swell with an overwhelming feeling of love and a sense of rightness and belonging as she was held securely in his arms. She knew this was where she was meant to be. She didn't know if meeting Fitzwilliam was due to destiny or was simply a serendipitous accident. Truth be told, she didn't really care. But she felt profoundly grateful and divinely blessed that they had found one another; that he loved her as she loved him. With Fitzwilliam, she had found her purpose, her reason for living. Until he came into her life, she had hoped, but never believed that such a love was meant for her. But this was no dream, this was real. He was here and he was hers.

Suddenly, the tenor of Fitzwilliam's kiss changed. His tender, worshipful kisses turned passionate, but tinged with desperation. His arms around her tightened almost painfully, forcing the air from her lungs. She broke the kiss, gasping for air, her heart beating wildly in her chest as Fitzwilliam lowered his head to her shoulder, his breathing ragged. To her astonishment, she could feel him trembling. Knowing that something was wrong, she brought a hand to his head, running her fingers through his hair in a soothing manner. In response, he turned his head to the side, kissing the side of her neck. Raising his head, he proceeded to place desperate kisses on her face, his hands gripping her waist painfully.

"Fitzwilliam? What's wrong?" Elizabeth asked, her voice laced with concern and confusion.

He paused in his desperate ministrations, bringing his forehead to rest against hers, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. "Promise that you will never leave me, Elizabeth," He whispered, his voice low and hoarse.

"Fitzwilliam, look at me," Elizabeth answered softly.

Slowly, he raised his head, opening his eyes to meet Elizabeth's concerned gaze. She was shocked at what she saw in the depth of his eyes: despair, anguish, fear.

"What happened? What is this about?"

Darcy took a shuddering breath, shaking his head. "Nothing. It is nothing." His voice was so low, Elizabeth could barely hear him.

Placing her hands on either side of his head, she asked fervently, "Why would you think I could ever leave you?"

Darcy gripped Elizabeth's waist, pulling her into his embrace. He held her tightly, telling himself that he was being ridiculous and irrational. She was here, with him. She would never leave him, nor would anything persuade him to leave her. As he had kissed her, he had suddenly been assailed with images from his nightmare: of him turning his back on Elizabeth and walking away, her face full of anguish and despair. This had swiftly been followed by an image from his first nightmare: of Elizabeth being snatched from his arms by an unseen force, disappearing from his sight. The feeling of being separated from Elizabeth had been so painful and so real that he had reacted instinctively out of desperation and fear. He felt a sudden wave of shame wash over him as he remembered his less than gentlemanly behavior, knowing that he had frightened her.

"Forgive me, Elizabeth. I didn't mean to frighten you."

Elizabeth searched his face, her gaze softening. "You could never frighten me, Fitzwilliam," she answered in a soft voice. "But something happened just now. Please tell me," she pleaded.

He released his tight grip, pulling back slightly so he could better see her face. He traced her face with his eyes, memorizing each beloved feature. Taking a deep breath, he replied, "I've had two nightmares this past week of us being separated." He regarded her with a solemn expression. "I suppose it has affected me more than I thought."

Elizabeth nodded in understanding, bringing her hand to rest against his face, her thumb gently caressing his cheek. "It is understandable, Fitzwilliam, given what we have learned about Mr Williamson and my mother." She paused, swallowing the sudden lump in her throat. "Although I have had no nightmares of us being separated, I have put myself in my Mother's place, of how I would feel if you were separated from me." She closed her eyes at the sharp pain that pierced her breast. "I can imagine that it is as agonizingly painful for you as it is for me."

Darcy sighed deeply, turning his head to kiss her palm. "Yes, it is. And you are right, all this emotional turmoil regarding Williamson and your mother is to blame. It has been on my mind much of late which explains why it has carried over to my dreams. I know my fears are unfounded, that nothing could ever separate us. But, I am still grateful that I will be traveling to Longbourn in two days instead of two weeks. The sooner I have secured your hand, the sooner we can be married." Darcy raised Elizabeth's hand to place a lingering kiss on her knuckles.

Elizabeth smiled, a slight blush suffusing her face. She raised a brow, her eyes dancing with amusement. "In the meantime, we will just have to find something more pleasant to think about, so your dreams are happy."

Darcy gave Elizabeth a slow smile as he wrapped both arms around her waist. "What do you propose, Elizabeth?" he responded in a low, intimate tone as he drew her closer.

"I can think of any number of pleasant things to replace your maudlin thoughts, Fitzwilliam." Elizabeth knew she was repeating herself, but she found it difficult to keep a coherent thought in her head when he looked at her in such an intense way.

Darcy lowered his head to place a kiss on the corner of her mouth, smiling when she gasped slightly. Ghosting his lips over hers, he whispered, "Such as?"

Elizabeth was unable to concentrate on anything but the feel of his lips as they found the sensitive spot below her ear. She closed her eyes with a soft sigh, leaning her head to the side as his lips trailed down the side of her neck. "Mmmmm."

Darcy smiled, raising his head slightly to look at Elizabeth. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks flushed a becoming pink, mouth parted slightly. Utter perfection. Unable to deny himself, he lowered his head to capture her tempting lips in a fervent kiss.

When they broke apart sometime later, Elizabeth rested her head against Fitzwilliam's chest, listening to his racing heart. She smiled, pleased that he was as affected by her as she was by him. "Did that help, Fitzwilliam?"

Darcy's eyes were closed in utter contentment, his chin resting on top of Elizabeth's head, marveling again how perfectly she fit in his arms. He was vaguely aware that Elizabeth had said something. "Hmmmm?"

Elizabeth leaned back, looking up at Fitzwilliam with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "I'll take that as a yes."

Darcy narrowed his eyes. "You are a minx."

Elizabeth laughed. She opened her mouth to respond when the distinctive sounds of people were heard walking in their direction. She looked at Fitzwilliam, her eyes widening in alarm. She quickly picked up her bonnet, placing in on her head before retrieving her gloves. Fitzwilliam did the same, and taking her arm he led her further into the grove of trees. When they came to the small clearing, they both stopped abruptly, trying to process what they were seeing.

"Is that...?" Elizabeth broke away from Fitzwilliam, walking further towards the trio that were sitting on the bench under the tree. As she neared, she saw that it was indeed, Mr Williamson sitting beside her sister and Colonel Fitzwilliam. She paused briefly, her emotions conflicted. She hadn't expected to see Mr Williamson again, but now that he was here she discovered that she was glad.

Just then, Jane looked up and seeing her sister and Mr Darcy, smiled widely, raising a hand in welcome. Colonel Fitzwilliam stood, his expression inscrutable. Mr Williamson began to stand, but Elizabeth rushed forward, raising a hand to forestall his progress.

"Please, don't get up, sir." Elizabeth smiled at the older man. She greeted her sister and the Colonel briefly, before turning to address Mr Williamson. She noticed immediately that his color was better and his piercing green eyes had a certain vitality that hadn't been present before. "It is good to see you again, Mr Williamson. How are you, sir?"

Mr Williamson's eyes lit up when he saw her, his eyes shining with a quiet happiness. He bowed from his seated position. "A pleasure, Miss Elizabeth. I am well enough, thank you."

Fitzwilliam joined them and he nodded politely at the gentleman. Although he had met Williamson, the circumstances of their meeting had been unusual so they had not been properly introduced. After Elizabeth made the introduction, he let his attention wander to his cousin who had been unusually silent. Seeing his cousin's forlorn expression, he nearly started laughing. He immediately deduced that Richard had sought out a quiet spot to formally ask Miss Bennet for a courtship only to find that it was already occupied. And judging by his despondent expression, he had not yet had a chance to ask. Poor Richard. Luck was just not on his side today. When Richard met his eye, Darcy smirked, nodding his head discreetly in Miss Bennet's direction. He raised his brows in a silent inquiry, smiling when Richard shook his head and scowled. Darcy couldn't help but feel a sense of justice about his cousin's situation. Richard had dragged his feet for too long with Miss Bennet. He thought it would be good for him to struggle a bit before securing her hand.

He turned his attention to the quiet conversation that was taking place between Elizabeth, her sister and Mr Williamson.

"May I say how much better you are looking today, Mr Williamson?" Elizabeth's soft voice was full of tender concern.

Williamson sighed. "I have my good days and my bad days, Miss Elizabeth. Today is a good day, which is why you find me here. It is the first time I have left my room since..." His voice trailed off and a brief flash of pain crossed his face.

Elizabeth smiled in silent understanding. She knew that bringing up the subject of her mother would be unwise so she asked about his life in Scotland. Elizabeth and Jane listened as he told them about his work as a solicitor, his Aunt and her husband. Judging by his contented expression, his life had been a good one despite his grief over her Mother. She was glad. A good man like him deserved to have some happiness in his life. She only wished that he could have moved on and found someone else to love, share his life with; have a family of his own. But as she reflected further, she found she couldn't fault him for his decision to stay true to her Mother's memory. For she knew she would act in the same way. She would never love anyone but Fitzwilliam, never marry anyone but him. She would rather be alone than spend her life with someone else.

She noticed that Mr Williamson seemed nervous and he kept opening his mouth as if to speak before closing it with a small shake of his head. After a minute of this behavior he finally spoke, his voice hesitant.

"Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth," he began, his voice unsure. "Would you... that is... could you tell me a little about yourselves? And your siblings? I am assuming there are others?"

Elizabeth shared a brief look with her sister before Jane turned to Mr Williamson with a smile. "Yes, we have siblings, sir. I am the eldest, then Elizabeth, whom we all call Lizzy. Then there is Mary, Catherine, whom we call Kitty and Lydia."

As Jane spoke, Elizabeth watched Mr Williamson closely to see if he reacted in a similar manner as he heard her sisters names. She didn't know whether to be glad or disappointed when he showed only a mild interest in hearing them. Why did her name elicit such a strong reaction?

"You have no brothers, then?"

"No sir. Just us five girls."

Mr Williamson nodded his head, a faraway expression on his face. Finally, he looked up, acting startled that they were there. Shaking his head slightly, he said with chagrin, "Forgive my absentmindedness. Would you tell me about your sisters?"

Elizabeth responded with a warm smile. "With pleasure, sir." For the next ten minutes, she regaled Mr Williamson with anecdotes about herself and her four sisters, highlighting the good times they had growing up. She was careful not to mention her Mother or Father. When she was done, Mr Williamson reached over and patted her hand.

"Thank you, my dear. It sounds like you had an idyllic childhood. I am glad."

Elizabeth bit her lip, turning her head away from Mr Williamson's gaze. She had not been untruthful with Mr Williamson, but neither had she been completely honest. She had deliberately left out all the unpleasantness she had experienced, focusing more on her sisters. She met Fitzwilliam's eyes and he smiled in quiet understanding.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and turned to her sister. Raising a brow, she asked teasingly, "Jane, do you have anything to add about our 'idyllic' childhood?"

Jane laughed softly and turned to Mr Williamson, ready to share some more tales of the five Bennet sisters. Her smile died as she saw the color drain from his face.

"Mr Williamson, are you well, sir?" Jane's quiet entreaty drew Elizabeth's attention.

Upon seeing his whitened countenance, Elizabeth realized with sudden clarity that Mr Williamson had not heard Jane's name before now as she would have introduced herself as Miss Bennet. Elizabeth watched as Mr Williamson stared at Jane, an agonized look in his eyes.

"Jane. Fanny named you Jane." Mr Williamson's quiet whisper was full of pain and regret.

Elizabeth looked up at Fitzwilliam, needing his reassuring gaze. Sensing her need, he stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. She noticed that Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped as close as he could to Jane as well, his brows lowered in confusion as his gaze wandered between Jane and Mr Williamson.

Jane looked at Mr Williamson in confusion. "Yes, my Mother named me Jane." She hesitated briefly before inquiring, "Why would that disturb you so, sir?"

He didn't answer, but continued to stare at Jane before moving his tortured gaze to Elizabeth. "Jane and Elizabeth," he whispered, his gaze never wavering from their faces. "Should have been mine." He lowered his head, his countenance broken-hearted.

Elizabeth and Jane stared at each other, eyes wide with confusion. Elizabeth's natural curiosity was exerting itself and she was warring with her need to know the significance of her and her sisters name over Mr Williamson's obvious pain. Neither sister spoke, both unsure what to say. She felt Fitzwilliam squeeze her shoulder gently and she reached up to place a hand over his.

Without preamble, Mr Williamson began to speak, his voice so low that they had to lean in to hear what he was saying. "After Fanny agreed to marry me, we discussed names for children. Our children. Fanny had always loved the name Jane and decreed it would be the name of our firstborn daughter." He looked up, his eyes full of pain and regret. "I agreed, except if our firstborn resembled her, then she would be named Elizabeth."

Elizabeth's heart began beating painfully in her chest. They wanted to name the daughter that resembled her Mother, Elizabeth? Why?

As if hearing her unspoken question, Mr Williamson looked up and holding her gaze, explained, "Elizabeth was the name of my Mother, you see. She died when I was a young man and I wanted the daughter who resembled my dear Fanny to carry my Mother's name. In honor of the two women I held most dear." He took a deep breath before continuing in a shaking voice. "When you told me that Fanny...your Mother, was alive and had married...I felt betrayed, that she had deliberately deceived me." He smiled and his countenance changed, his eyes lit with a soft glow. "But then you told me your name was Elizabeth...that my Fanny had named the daughter that resembled her after my Mother like we had discussed and...I knew. I knew that she hadn't forgotten me, that she loved me still."

Elizabeth was startled when a handkerchief appeared in her line of vision. She stared at it uncomprehendingly, before following the hand that held it to meet the compassionate gaze of Fitzwilliam. She stared at him blankly until he leaned down and gently wiped the tears from her face with his handkerchief. She hadn't even realized that she had been crying. She took his proffered handkerchief with a tremulous smile, noticing that Jane was blinking back tears. Her sister reached over and squeezed her hand.

Elizabeth's mind was reeling with this information. Her Mother had named her Elizabeth. Her Mother. She always assumed that her Father had chosen her name. But to learn the significance of her name, not only to the man sitting beside her, but to her Mother was staggering. She needed time alone to consider the implications of this new knowledge, and what it meant in relation to her Mother's behavior towards her all these years. But not now. Her mind was too troubled to think clearly. She took a shuddering breath before redirecting her gaze to Mr Williamson.

He was gazing at her and Jane in concern. "I hope what I said didn't upset you, my dears. If so, I heartily beg your pardon."

"No, not at all, sir," Jane was quick to reassure him. "My sister and I just find what happened between you and Mama to be heartbreaking. That is all."

Elizabeth directed her gaze downward, unable to meet Mr Williamson's gaze, afraid of what he would see in her eyes. She felt the comforting weight of Fitzwilliam's hand on her shoulder and she focused on him and his reassuring presence and strength. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam shift slightly. Turning her head, her breath caught at the look of tender concern on his face as he looked on her sister. He loves her. She smiled to herself, glancing at her sister to see if she was aware that the Colonel's gaze was fixed on her lovely profile.

Her inner musings were interrupted as Mr Williamson's suddenly staggered to his feet, swaying slightly before steadying himself with his cane. She quickly stood followed by her sister. He turned to them, a sad, resigned smile on his face.

"I have kept you here long enough. I thank you, my dears for taking the time to talk with me. It has lightened my heart. Please, forgive me if I caused you any distress."

Jane was quick to reassure him as Elizabeth watched his face for any signs of physical pain or discomfort. She didn't want him walking unassisted if he was ill. "May we be of assistance, sir?"

Mr Williamson smiled down at Elizabeth. "No, my dear. You have already helped me. More than you know. I bid you all a good day." He pressed a quick kiss to her hand and Jane's, bowed to the two gentlemen and left the small clearing at a slow, but steady pace.

Elizabeth watched him go, unaware that Fitzwilliam had come up beside her until he reached out and took her hand in his, squeezing it gently. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with renewed anguish. "No more secrets, Fitzwilliam. I cannot handle any more secrets," she whispered in a broken voice. "Why did my Mother name me Elizabeth? Why give me his Mother's name and then treat me so coldly?" She shook her head. "I don't understand."

Darcy's heart broke at seeing Elizabeth's pain. How he wished he could give her the answers she sought. But he knew the only person who could was her Mother. If he knew his Elizabeth, she would confront her Mother and he vowed to be there when she did.

A/N: First of all, I apologize profusely for not updating in two weeks. As much as I hate the heat, I was reluctant to bid farewell to summer, so I've been taking lots of day trips with the fam. Also, I've been reading *gasp* instead of writing in my spare time - LOTR FF to be exact. My personality borders on the obsessive at times and needless to say, I became obsessed with LOTR (There's just too many good ff stories featuring my favorite character - Éomer ;-) So I've been staying up way too late to read... Just. One. More. Chapter! causing me to be sleep deprived during the day. So I've been napping with my kiddos which is when I usually write. But, my obsessive streak regarding LOTR has passed (for now...temporarily), so my 'spare time' focus is back on writing.

With that said, I just want to reiterate that I WILL finish this story. My personality does not allow me to leave things uncompleted. So don't worry if there are times when it takes longer than a week to post a chapter. But if you want to send me a message telling me how much you miss my posts, I won't mind a bit ;-).

Please review and tell me what you thought about JW revelation. I know that to many (or most) of you it was probably not much of a surprise. But I'm sure I surprised you with the revelation about Jane's name. I'm sure it's making your heads spin as you try to figure out why Mrs B dislikes E but not J. You'll just have to keep guessing a little bit longer.

Also, I am sorry that I haven't responded to your reviews in a long time. But know that I read and re-read every single one and they never cease to motivate me to keep writing. You are my muse and I thank you from the bottom of my heart!

Until next time!

Much love,

MAH

P.S. If any of you want to send me your LOTR ff recs, I wouldn't mind a bit :)