A/N: Here it is, finally! The last chapter.

The two hosts stood there, their mouths hanging open. Finally, Darcy broke the silence. “Why are your sister and mother sitting next to Wickham and your father? They must be in the wrong seats; it’s improper.”

“Yes it is very shocking, considering that they have always held propriety above everything else.”

Darcy scoffed, “I see your point.”

Elizabeth continued to look ahead, and after a minute raised her eyebrows. “Well, it looks as though your aunt is schooling them on their etiquette as we speak.” In the short months that she had been acquainted with Lady Catherine, this was the first time that Elizabeth felt grateful for her stiff manners and arrogant attitude. Both Lydia and her mother got up from their seats. At least that would alleviate some of the problem.

But alas, not enough, as they only switched places with each other. “Well that didn’t help much.”

“Yes, because you know my aunt always makes a bad situation better.”

“I see your point.” Elizabeth’s voice had a hopeless edge to it. “Where’s Georgiana? I don’t see her.”

Darcy sccanned the room, where people were still mulling around. “Ah, there she is, at the far end of the table, in between my cousin and Jane.”

Elizabeth sighed, exasperated, “Of course she is.” Elizabeth began to wonder whether it was a law of nature that if you start to believe that a situation cannot possibly get any worse, it exceeds your worst fears.

Still, she tried to remain at least a little optimistic, “Maybe, Miss Granville will behave herself.”

“Yes, it is quite possible.” About as possible for the main course to grow wings and fly out the window. Darcy thought to himself.

“Well Fitzwilliam, uh, L-let’s just sit down and…and pray that we get through this.”

“That’s a good idea, and Mr. Collins will be sitting on your left, so he can lead you in prayer.” Darcy bit his lip in an effort to stifle a chuckle.

Elizabeth softly groaned. Once again, the catastrophic situation had become worse. “Who in their right mind drew up this seating arrangement?”

“Mrs. Reynolds was occupied, so I believe she gave Margaret the task.”

“I see, on top of everything else this evening, I am left to the chore of trying to make conversation with that ridiculous buffoon. “

Elizabeth was so lost in her quiet ranting, she didn’t realize that Mr. Collins saw her motioning towards him. He believed that she was excited to be engaging with him in a delighful discussion over dinner, so he smiled at her in acknowledgement.

Darcy couldn’t hold in his laughing at that point. “Would you rather be unsociable and taciturn?”

Darcy’s smirk quickly melted under Elizabeth’s heated scowl. “We’re the only ones not seated, our everyone will become supicious.” He led his young wife to her spot and nervously pulled out her chair for her. She gave him a loving smile, much to the confusion of several guests who witnessed the exchange. Almost the entire room was privy to the household’s scandal. They have seen such a situation before, where the wife would try to ignore her husband or force a smile for appearances sake, but Mr. and Mrs. Darcy seemed to have a genuine affection for each other.

As dinner began, Mr. Collins began chatting endlessly. Elizabeth tried to listen but gave up after a few minutes. She just kept her eye fixed on the small party across the table, all the while giving him a ew well placed nods to, just to keep up the guise that she was paying attention.

That task proved to be more and more difficult as the time slowly passed, especially when Felicity appeared to have taken a liking to conversing with both Lydia and Lady Catherine. They were too far away for Elizabeth to understand what they were saying, but shewas able to notice Wickham’s uncomfortable posture throughout the entire evening.

There was a brief moment when, out of boredom, Wickham turned his gaze towards the mistress of the table, who immediately snapped her eyes to the other side of the room, where she saw Jane and Georgiana cheerfully talking amongst themselves. Close by them, Darcy and Bingley, were trying to contain their laughter over something that Col. Fitzwilliam apparently said.

Elizabeth couldn’t understand by any measure, how they could be so relaxed, when she herself was fretting to the point of a breakdown. She glanced once more at Lydia and Felicity, they were talking animatedly across the table. Even Lady Catherine’s glower was beginning to soften just a touch. However, there were a few guests such as Lady Weatherly and Mrs. Chealsea staring between her and Felicity, whispering to their own dinner companions.

Elizabeth decided that she wasn’t going to worry about what they thought, as long as-

Suddenly, everybody at the table silenced themselves by a loud high-pierced scream. The server jumped back and almost dropped the tray of ices. It was almost certain that crystal would have to be replaced after that octave rang out. Both Jane and Elizabeth knew that there was only one person who could make such a sound.

“Mr. Bennett, this is…she’s the one who…it’s her-“ Mrs. Bennet stood up and shook her finger wildly at Mrs. Granville. By the slur in her voice, it was easy to tell that she had too much wine this everning. Unfortunately, when that happens, she forgets what little modesty or discretion she has.

“Keep your voice down, Anne.” Mr. Bennet chided.

“But it is her…and him.” She now directed her attention to Darcy, glowering at him like a mad dog. Each of the guests watched the exchange, spare Lady Weatherly who stared down at her plate, looking rather smug.

There was escaping the horrible scene that Mrs. Bennett was about to make.

*Gasp*

Elizabeth eyes shot open. After rubbing the moisture from her eyes, she was able to finally see that she was safe and sound in her own chambers.

Catching her breath, she released the corner of her bed sheet that she unconsciously crunched under her fist. The sudden movement woke her husband beside her.

“Lizzie,what is the matter”, he asked, rubbing her back soothingly.

Elizabeth rested her palm against her forehead. “I had the most agitating dream.”

“Would you care to talk about it?”

“No, no. It was only a dream. Let’s go back to sleep.”

“All right darling.” Darcy wrapped his arms tightly around her small frame and leaned her back against the pillows.

As Elizabeth buried her face in his chest, her hands stopped shaking. She couldn’t reacall ever having such a vivid dream. Just then, a thought occurred to her. “Fitzwilliam?”

“Yes?”

“What we discussed earlier about names for the baby; I don’t like what we picked if it’s a girl.”

Darcy looked down at his wife, confused. “What is wrong with the name Felicity?”