AN: AS PROMISED! Idk if it matches the whole story's general tone. Its been a while you know. But I read the last few chapters and tried. This is my first anything in a while, so bare with me. seriously, LET ME KNOW what you think is different or what I could've done better This chapter is a bit more background and narrative but I think thats due.
And see if you can spot the character I got inspiration from Mad Eye Moody from lol. Shouldn't be too hard

Oh, and I'm bumping this story up to 'M' because of a small portion of this chapter. It really isn't as descriptive as I could've gone. I kinda feel like anything to raunchy defeats the point of an austen story. But I'm also a sucker for it and so here it is. Its italicized (you'll obviously see why) if you want to skip it. I'm sure you'll get the point


Miss Jane Bennet
Longborne of Hertfordshire
Mrs Elizabeth Darcy
Pemberley of Derbyshire
November 2

Dearest Lizzie,
I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are enjoying your time with your new husband. How odd it was for me to address to Mrs Elizabeth Darcy! Life at Longborne is so different without you here, and is especially strange with Mama fretting over Mary for once. However despite her attempts at being helpful, Mary's wedding planning is going smoothly. It will be so nice to see you again, as it has been almost two months! Only a fortnight lizzie, and i will have my beloved sister again, if only for a short while.

This letter also comes with news I am sure you will be excited about. Mr Bingley has made me an offer and I accepted! Oh I am so happy Lizzie! Sure there is not a person alive as happy as I at the moment! Charles agreed that I should tell you before he informs Mr Darcy, as I know hearing the news from your husband and not I would distress you. We hope to be wed very soon, as our courtship has extended so long. Perhaps around christmas time or in January.

Caroline is making an effort to be welcoming to me, but her attempts do not seem to have any warmth. She does not approve, a fact at which Bingley scoffs at and tells me not to worry, and I believe she has fancied herself as the head of the household for so long, that she does not want the title taken away. Mrs. Hurst tries much harder than Caroline, as her husband has squandered nearly all his fortune and she knows very well that someday she will have to come to me for help. You know I do not like speaking ill of anyone, Lizzie, but our own younger sisters will be handful enough without having to tend to Bingley's older ones! So I shall hope for the best that Mr Hurst will be able to save something of his fortune.

I miss you dearly Lizzie, and I hope to hear from you soon, even if the letter arrives hours before you do!

Your dearest sister,


Elizabeth Darcy set the letter from her sister down on her writing table. It was an elaborate piece of woodwork, set against a large window overlooking the beautiful garden in which her husband asked her, for the second time, to be his wife. It was one window in a set of three, all of which shed light on her shared parlor with her husband. His own desk was a few feet away, though currently empty.

Lizzie sighed after realizing she had been gazing at his desk longer than necessary. Two months into their marriage and already they had established a routine. Both would wake up and take breakfast in their parlor together, at a small round table perfect for two situated near the fireplace. After which they would sit at their writing desks and attend to letters or business that needed to be addressed. Occasionally they would not make it even that far into their morning…

She gazed fondly at the large rug situated near the fire as well.

However, this was the second morning into their marriage she had awaken alone. She had known why, of course. The master of Pemberley could not ignore his major tasks for more than two months, and she had half expected him to come to her and apologize profusely about needing to leave for a day or two, as he had. Despite not appreciating needing to be alone in such a large place for over a day, she told him that she would be okay, and he made sure she knew how much he loved her.

Shaking her head slightly, he forced her thoughts to move from WIlliam to her sister. Lizzie wondered at why the proposal had taken so long to happen, she'd been waiting for months to hear of it! Nevertheless she was ecstatic for Jane and could not wait to see her sister to be as happy as she is now.

Mary's wedding was in the next week, she and her husband would be departing for Hertfordshire upon his arrival home. He insisted that they, politely, decline her father's invitation to stay at Longborne, and instead stayed with Bingley at Netherfield, where they could have both privacy and quiet.

She moved into Darcy's bedroom, which she had unconventionally been using as her own as well. Her own bedchambers remained untouched all this time. Their marriage, being one of love and not convenience, was much more intimate than common. She shared a bed with her husband and enjoyed every moment of it. Even her first experience had not been entirely too bad. Uncomfortable of course, but ever diligent, Darcy had seen to her comfort and pleasure.

Considering the picture her mother had so gracefully painted in her minds eye of how the act would be, it was rather amazing in comparison.
Lizzie had been extremely nervous, setting out for london the night of her wedding with William. As soon as they had left company and were alone in his carriage, and awkward silence fell between them as they both thought about what was to happen that night when they stopped for rest. They were quiet and whatever conversation was short and overly polite. It was strange to consider how passionate they had been all through their courtship, and at that moment the final act gave them both stage fright.

She had never asked her husband about his previous escapades, if he had had any. She knew through rumors that men of circumstance could very easily get favors of the physical nature when needed, and discretely. Though he never seemed like the type of person to squander those values on a hired women, he was nearly nine and twenty.

Arriving at the inn where they would be staying for the night had been a blur, and remained a blur in her memory. The infamous Darcy and his new bride being guests had nearly killed the owner of excitement. He was helpful to the point of excess, and the end of dinner came with a mix of thankfulness of leaving the man's presence, and fear of what was to come.

A maid escorted her to her chambers, every appearance of conventionality being upheld by taking her own room. She numbly changed into her bed clothes, and placed a hand on her chest. It was not her old wound that was paining her, but the speed of her heart racing that made her stop to catch her breath. Her countenance in the mirror was that of a ghost, and she silently told herself that she had nothing to be worried about, that it was only William.

A knock came at the door, and Elizabeth jumped quite violently. However it was only a maid checking one last time if she needed anything, at which she silently shook her head. When she was sure the young girl was gone, Lizzie moved to have a cup of water, but before it had touched her lips, the door opened again, but with no other sound but the worn hinges creaking softly. The hair on the back of her neck raised and she shivered slightly as she felt her new husband's gaze on the back of her neck.

She set the untouched water back on the table, and suddenly he was there with a hand running through her un-coifed tresses and it was as if he washed away all her fears. He was here and her irrational fear was gone. Elizabeth turned to face him and saw that he was smiling softly at her.

Taking both her hands in his, he brought them to his lips and kissed them gently. "I love you."

She smiled back at him. "I love you." she told him back, and now he was cupping her face with one hand, the other familiarly on her waist, though her clothes were much thinner now than she was accustomed to when he held her. Softly at first, his lips met hers and for a few moments they kissed, rekindling all the passion they had started many stolen moments before. Before she knew it, the kiss had deepened and both hands were on her waist, fisting the material of her night dress to pull her closer. Her hands slid up his chest to grasp the back of his neck and he moved to leave a blazing trail on her neck, whispering her name lovingly.

Somehow they had made it to her bed, and she had fallen backwards upon it, her husband not very far behind. She had forgotten how to think, and it could have been hours or years, but at some point he began removing her dress, pausing when she hesitated. No one had ever seen her naked aside from her family, and that was years ago. And so, to give her a little more time, he began undoing his own shirt, and she laughed at him a little when he fumbled in his barely contained haste.

Unable to restrain her curiosity, she began to help, and in moments she saw his bare chest for the first time. It was captivating, and he sighed a little and began to kiss her again as she ran her hands over him exploringly. Again he gently attempted to rid her of her own clothing and this time she relented. She trusted him completely, and at any rate she couldn't find much fight in her anymore. Her last vestiges of modesty were eventually gone, and bare skin met bare skin.

She did, however, regain some sense when he started nudging her legs apart. It was fear of the great pain she had been told of that stopped her however.

"Lizzie," he whispered softly, and she met his eyes. She realized she could not avoid it forever, and she wanted to make him happy, and so she relented.

It was painful at first, but whether it went away or the pleasure just overruled it, she didn't much care. Her wedding night turned out to be much, much better than she could have dreamed of. Content and wrapped up together, they drifted off in the early hours of the morning…

Of course, even now her experiences with the marriage bed were different. As they learned about each other, it became more adventurous and passionate. Once or twice, she blushed to think of, they never even made it out of the garden.

Elizabeth was well aware that her marriage was much different from that of others. Though it was something she tried very hard not to think of, she knew her parent's had never had a relationship such as hers.

There was also the matter of finance that set her marriage apart from her parents. Lizzie entered her dressing area to select her outfit for the day amongst the multitude of dresses WIlliam had insisted on getting her. She was not sure if it had much to do with the fact that her own clothes had been far below that status quo expected of her new position in society, but more to the fact that he showed a surprising love of doting on her. She supposed it should have been expected considering all that he buys for Georgiana, but it still made her uncomfortable. Her dowery couldn't have paid for half of her new wardrobe.

Deciding on an emerald green piece, she reflected on her first outing in society as Mrs. Darcy. She'd fretted over all the misgivings Darcy himself had originally had about her. Though they may not be a concern to him anymore, others were certainly able to point out that he had married far below himself.

It had been a fairly quiet affair, but there was definite whispering occurring all around them. Darcy had become his usual stony self as happened while he was in public. However he kept a firm grip on her hand that was in the crook of his arm, and squeezed it reassuringly occasionally. No one dared say anything outright, as Darcy was extremely intimidating. She was proud to see she had done over most people, and the majority of those who disapproved were older women scandalized by anything younger than thirty years, single women who had hoped to snag Darcy at one point or another, and the mothers of those single women.

Though she still saw the whispering whenever they left Pemberly, which was not very often at this point, it was not too much of a bother. His family, aside from Lady Catherine, accepted her, and the household had been ecstatic to welcome a new mistress.

On the matter of Lady Catherine, she had not been heard from since the day before the wedding. It bothered Elizabeth that she should be the cause of a rift between aunt and nephew, but Darcy insisted that he didn't mind at all.


Her day passed in a lazy manner. No word had come of or from her husband, and she took lunch alone that second day as well. Occasionally the staff would come to her with questions that she tried her very hardest to answer, and she had not yet managed to ruin anything, and so felt she should be doing okay. For the moment Darcy had her ordering dinners and tending to staffing issues, the rest was being overseen by Mrs Reynolds.

One of her favorite parts of living at Pemberley was the size of the grounds. And she had not much to fear venturing these because they were so vast and so well monitored. She ventured out about an hour after lunch, making her way toward the lake where she heard the sound of hoofs coming up the path. Trying not to get her hopes up, Elizabeth turned to see who it was.

Mr Darcy was riding full speed up the path, and only vaguely seeing her from the corner of his eye until he did a double take. Elizabeth was vaguely surprised his horse could turn that fast, but he was fast making his way towards her, jumping down before Agaue was fully stopped.
"Lizzie!" His smile was large and wonderful. He took her in his arms as if he could not do it fast enough. Still out of break from his ride, he merely kissed the top of her head. "how I've missed you," he said quietly.

After a mostly silent reunion, they walked arm in arm, ague diligently following, back towards Pemberley. "What have I missed?" he inquired, and she went off on a long list of minor issues that came up here or there, the progress of Antigone, who had been moved to the Pemberley stables, and "Mr Bingley made an offer to Jane!"

Elizabeth said this as if she saved it for last on purpose, and excitement lit her eyes.

"I am extremely pleased to hear that. Took Charles long enough," he said laughingly, and Lizzie smiled her agreement. "We will be able to offer our personal congratulations in a few days time."

If possible, her grin grew larger and she leaned onto her husband's shoulder. "I cannot wait to see my family again. I have missed my father and Jane most profoundly. How is Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"True to his word, he has pestered me as little as possible these past couple months. However thieves on his property necessitated my help. Otherwise he is managing quite well." A footman opened the doors for them and inside the house. Changing the topic, Darcy said "I hope you will not object, but Georgiana has expressed her utmost distaste for life in london, and so she and Uncle George will be returning to Pemberley. I'm afraid we've stretched out our grace period longer than most are willing to accept."

Though Elizabeth saw no issue with this, and was extremely excited to see her sister-in-law, and her charismatic uncle. Though her husband was her favorite to be around, he was no female as was Georgiana, or comedian as was George.

"One more night alone together then, my love." He whispered lovingly to her.


The pub was run down and deplorable. George Wickham scowled as he took a seat on the very edge of a seat, looking around for this 'Mr Watson' he was to be meeting. Watson spoke of an extremely advantageous opportunity that required someone of Wickham's social skills, and Wickham's natural greed led him to agree. He would have requested a bit more of a clean atmosphere though.

The door momentarily opened with a loud creak, shedding a brief glimpse of light over the dusty bar at which he sat. A man who looked every bit the pirate Wickham had grown up hearing fantastical stories about limped in. His mouth was set at a scowling slant and his eyes darted around as if someone was to attack him at any moment. He wore a worn out hat that looked vaguely like a navel officer's, though most likely decades old.

He thumped over to wickham who was trying to decide if he should just leave, and asked in a low, gravely voice "You George Wickham?"
A moments hesitation- "I am."

"I haven't much time lad. Are you sure you're trustworthy?"

"When it's in my best interest."

The man guffawed a bit. "Honesty, I like it. Well son, if you're willing to give up the next year or two of your life on the sea, then the rest of your life could be one of leisure. Money and women and a title. "

He merely peaked an eyebrow. "Two years on a ship? I am not sure if I quite like it."

"Lad, telling from your clothing, you're used to a life of luxury. The fact that you're here tells me luxury is evading you. Either you can continue living this way for the rest of your life, or live this way for just two more years."

They silently sized each other up, and Wickham grudgingly had to admit that this man was correct. Life had not happened the way he always thought it would. "Fine. What do I need to do?"

"Join the navy, find a wife, sign up for the Annabella's next trip to the Americas in February." He said, straight to the point.
Ten minutes later George Wickham was walking out of the pub in Meryton and rounding the corner into the more civilized area of the small town. Joining the navy would be easy to do, it was finding a wife-

The piercing giggling of two girls walking by captured his attention, and Wickham smiled. Fate had a way of dealing him a sweet card.

"Miss Bennets!"