Jane shuddered once again. “I do not know how you can jest, Lizzy. A duel with swords! I would faint away if Mr. Bingley did something so reckless.”

“I did not know until after the fact and I scolded him to be sure. Still, it is rather romantic, do you not think, Jane? Also, Orman received his just reward.”

“Has he left Derbyshire?”

“Yes. Apparently, he has an estate in Devonshire. William crippled him. I do not imagine he will hurt any other women.”

“I must confess, I cannot picture Mr. Darcy in such a manner. He is so proper and composed. Medieval dueling simply boggles my mind.”

Lizzy smiled. “I was not surprised in the least. Remember, during our engagement, how we shared our first kiss experiences, Jane?” Jane blushed and nodded. “I spoke then of William's enthusiasm and you were shocked.”

“Please, Lizzy! We should not speak of such things!”

“Oh Jane! You are so silly. We are married women and sisters. If we cannot confide in each other, whom can we talk to?” Lizzy grasped Jane's hands. “I have so missed talking to you! There is no one on earth I can express my joy to as I can to you, dear sister. Are you and Mr. Bingley happy, Jane? You look happy. Please tell me you are as much as William and I!”

“Lizzy, we are extremely happy, but you know it is not my nature to enthuse as you do. You have always yearned for excitement and passion more so than I. There is no doubt you have found both with Mr. Darcy, despite his cool demeanor. Mr. Bingley and I are content and steady in our love, as well as quite joyful.”

“How is it living so close to Mama? Tell me truthfully!” Jane attempted to evade but Lizzy laughed at her. “You say more with no words than with paragraphs, Jane! Truly, you and Mr. Bingley should move closer to us. William intends to discuss it with him. Would you not rather have your own home, Jane?”

Jane seemed uncomfortable. “Charles and I have talked about this very matter, Lizzy. He would like to have his own home—our own home. The question is where. We both love it here and Mama would be so distressed if we left. Charles inquired about purchasing Netherfield, but the family does not wish to permanently part with it.” Jane shook her head. “I leave these decisions to him. He will do what he believes is best.”

Lizzy would have continued the conversation, but the very topics of their discussion entered the parlor at that moment. Darcy went immediately to Jane. “Mrs. Bingley, my wife stole you away forthwith and I did not have the opportunity to greet you properly.” He bowed low over her hand. “Thank you, dear sister, for opening your home to us.”

Jane blushed prettily.

They all parted then to dress for dinner. Lizzy, as Darcy anticipated, adored the rooms selected for them. They were not as plush or spacious as their chambers at Pemberley, but the decor was the same rustic tones they both preferred. When Lizzy rejoined her husband in the tiny sitting room it was to mutual approbation. Darcy, in blue as usual, wore the pale azure waistcoat Lizzy had gifted him at Christmas; he was incredibly handsome and his eyes sparkled as he gazed in admiration at his wife. Lizzy wore a new but simple gown of lavender and gold chenille with the Darcy strand of pearls around her neck, her lush hair elegantly coiffed by Marguerite, as always.

Darcy kissed his wife's hand and then her cheek. “Are you well, beloved?”

“Do you not ever tire of asking me that, Mr. Darcy?” she teased and he laughed, clasping her arm in his as they exited the room.

It was only fifteen minutes later that the Bennet carriage arrived. Mrs. Bennet was honestly at a loss as to whom to gush over first: her daughter in finery and jewels or her illustrious son-in-law. Darcy had discovered early in his engagement that the best way to deal with Lizzy's mother was to politely and formally greet her then pointedly ignore her. This form of subtle intimidation was a pose Mr. Darcy was expert at, and since Mrs. Bennet truthfully did annoy him profoundly, it was a natural response on his part.

He met the problem head on by purposefully placing his towering body directly in her path, seizing her hand smoothly for a brief kiss, and addressing her with a deep bow and voice lower than normal. “Mrs. Bennet. What an absolute delight it is to see you again. If I may be so bold, you are radiant tonight. Blue becomes you, and I daresay you have shed ten years since last we met.”

Without skipping a beat or waiting for a reply—not that one was forthcoming from the stunned Mrs. Bennet —he adroitly stepped to the side and looked at Mr. Bennet. The older man's eyes were twinkling and a cryptic smile, which Darcy had initially found so disconcerting but now delighted in, hovered about his lips. He actually winked at his son-in-law and Darcy solemnly winked back. The two gentlemen bowed and greeted each other formally, barely managing to get the preliminaries out of the way before Lizzy was in her father's arms. Lizzy had jumped at the opportunity provided by her mother's paralysis to greet her father first. Darcy smiled at the obvious joy the two felt at seeing each other after such a long absence. During the engagement, he and Mr. Bennet had developed a relationship bordering on friendship, or at least as close as two men of a nearly thirty-year age gap and vastly differing upbringings could attain. Darcy had been continually amazed at the breadth of the older man's knowledge of literature, science, and politics. Although they argued on some matters, it was in a friendly debating sort of way and they both enjoyed the challenge provided. More and more often, he had found himself secreting away from Mrs. Bennet's boisterous presence to repose in Mr. Bennet's study over brandies and quiet conversation. Lizzy had learned that it was the usual place to find her betrothed when he mysteriously disappeared.

“Lizzy,” Mr. Bennet declared with heartfelt relief, “my Lizzy! I have missed you so.” Darcy turned away to greet his new sisters and to allow father and daughter a moment. Unfortunately, Mrs. Bennet had recovered her voice and the private interlude was interrupted with her shrill exclamations. Lizzy was captured in a soft embrace and female prattling as both her mother and Kitty descended upon her. Mary, Darcy noted, hung back and was shyly approached by Georgiana, the two young women having formed a tentative friendship prior to the wedding. As the group slowly edged their way into the parlor, Darcy lingered to the rear, as did Mr. Bennet.

“Mr. Darcy, my daughter appears well. Quite well, in fact. I want to thank you for your constant correspondence during her illness. I am sure it must not have been easy for you to take the time.”

“You are welcome, sir. Nothing about that episode was easy, but it is behind us now and she has nearly fully recovered.” Mr. Bennet detected the note of strain in the younger man's voice and the hint of residual pain in his eyes despite Darcy's careful regulation. He smiled. Any doubts he may have had initially of Darcy's affection toward Lizzy had been dispelled within a week of their betrothal. He further saw the evidence of the deep love that had grown between the two already in the glances shared as they made their way into the parlor.

“She is more beautiful than I remember her,” Mr. Bennet continued. “I would not guess her needing to recover any further. She positively glows. Your doing, I am certain.” He glanced slyly at Darcy, who looked at him sharply.

“Whatever do you mean, sir?”

“Calm down, my boy. Any secrets you two have are safe with me for the present. I merely was referring to the flush on her cheeks, the radiant happiness she exudes, and the serenity about her. I am familiar with the pose from Jane, but never Lizzy.” He clapped Darcy on the back as he moved away, “You have made this old gentleman's heart shine, and I thank you.”

Darcy stood there wondering as Mr. Bennet strolled to greet his other son-in-law, catching Lizzy's eyes from across the room. She raised an eyebrow in question with a subtle nod toward her father. He shrugged imperceptibly. Mr. Bennet was far too astute for his own good.

As usual in these family gatherings, Darcy tended to retreat to quiet corners as often as possible. Lizzy and Jane were in the center of a female cluster, all the women seemingly talking at once, Darcy amazed that any of them could distinguish a word the other said. Even his normally bashful sister was caught up in the enthusiasm, which educed a pleased smile.

Dinner was announced; Darcy escorted his wife and sister and was happily ensconced between Lizzy and Mr. Bennet at the table. Conversation flowed in the rather jumbled manner that Darcy associated with the Bennets. Gradually, he had familiarized his sensibilities to what society would universally deem a hideous breach in dining etiquette, seeing beyond the outrageousness of it to recognize the relaxed harmony. It was not comfortable for him, decades of protocol hindering full involvement, but he appreciated it.

He and Lizzy touched clandestinely under the table whenever possible, sparking humorous memories of stolen caresses at this very table during their engagement. Leaning over at one point, Darcy whispered in her ear, “When do you wish to announce our news, beloved?”

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