After the family bid farewell to the newly married couple, life resumed its rhythms on Gracechurch Street. It was quickly decided that Elizabeth and Jane would stay in London with their mother to shop for their trousseaux, while Mary and Kitty would return - over the latter's strenuous objections - to Longbourn with their father. Although the chosen date for the double wedding was still two months away, Mrs. Bennet wondered loudly and often whether she would have enough time to outfit her two daughters for their most important day. After all, with such wealthy grooms, only the best would do for her girls.

To Elizabeth's dismay, Mr. Darcy soon announced his intention to return to Derbyshire. He had not forgotten that his aunt and cousin still resided in his home, awaiting his return, and, with a heavy heart, he related to his fiancée that his letter to Lady Catherine announcing their engagement had gone ominously unanswered. Though she was loath to part with Darcy so soon after their engagement, Elizabeth agreed it would be for the best.

On the evening before his departure from Town, he invited her family to dinner at his townhouse, knowing that only in his own familiar surroundings could he contrive to be alone with her.

And contrive he did. Whilst Mrs. Bennet, Jane, Bingley and the Gardiners were being entertained with a pianoforte recital by a master hired specially for the occasion - a real treat, since rarely had any of them heard such talent upon such a superior instrument - Darcy took the opportunity to pull Elizabeth quickly into a servants' passage, and just as quickly into his arms. She opened her mouth to speak, but found it immediately covered with his own, and during the long moments when they kissed each other hungrily, she found that there was nothing she really cared to say.

Nevertheless, when the two finally separated to take a much-needed breath, Elizabeth exclaimed with mock outrage, "Mr. Darcy! What do you mean by drawing me into such base surroundings and accosting me thus?" She could not, however, contain her gay laughter, for despite her protests, she was most willing to feel the hardness of his body against hers, and she clutched him to her person with delight.

"Ah, Miss Bennet," he answered in kind, pressing her against the wall, his hands moving feverishly down her form to settle upon her round bottom, his lips caressing her throat. "I have longed to do this ever since you met me in the passage at Netherfield. I have thought of nothing else." In truth, he had many times thought of other things, the chief of which was lifting her skirts and having her right there, standing up against the wall in the hallway, but such carnal frolics would, alas, have to wait until after they were wed. "In all seriousness, my love," he added tenderly, "I believe you quite saved my life with your consideration."

"I was certainly very far from expecting to make so strong an impression," she replied, moved. "I had not the smallest idea of being thought of in such a way."

"Allow me to assure you: you were. You were the only light in my dark world, and I will always be grateful to you for your attentions at Netherfield."

"Is that what spurs your proposal, Mr. Darcy? Gratitude?" she asked playfully. "A pity. I had hoped it would have been something a little more...personal."

"Had we the time and greater privacy, Miss Bennet," Darcy replied in a whisper, moving one hand up to slide his fingertips into the low neckline of her gown, "I would show you how very personal my motives are." As his lips followed, she quivered with desire, but soon enough he sighed regretfully. "But, I am afraid that we must now return to our guests." Giving her one last, deep kiss, he released her and allowed her to smooth her gown and, cautiously, to depart the passage before him. He would need another few moments to collect himself before he was ready to appear in the music room.

The remainder of the evening passed far too quickly for the lovers, and to the consternation of both of them, they had no other opportunity to meet alone. Darcy had to content himself with kissing Elizabeth's hand at her departure and promising to meet her in Hertfordshire just as soon as he could settle his affairs at home.

The very next morning, Darcy left for Derbyshire. Upon his arrival at Pemberley, he found his family unusually reserved. He knew that soon enough, however, Lady Catherine would begin to assert her will. Georgiana knew it, too, having already passed too many days in the company of her angry aunt, and so she excused herself after dinner, pleading a headache, which, no doubt, would be arriving any moment now.

"How am I to take this letter from you, Darcy?" his aunt asked in short order, rising from her seat and waving said missive in the air. He wondered how she had managed to contain herself this long. "Is this some kind of a joke? How could you frighten Anne and me with your jests?"

"No jest, Aunt Catherine," he replied calmly. "I have asked Miss Bennet to be my wife, and she has said yes."

"But who is this girl? You know nothing of her, for if you did you would not be so quick to wed her. She is nothing, Darcy, a country nobody with nothing to recommend her except perhaps a pretty face. She has bewitched you, that is the only explanation; you have fallen prey to her arts and allurements."

Darcy's look was stony. "Be careful, madam. That is my future wife you are speaking of. I will not tolerate such insults."

"Do you know that her family has no connections? That she has an uncle in trade near Cheapside?"

"Mr. Gardiner is a most amiable gentleman."

Seeing that she had no success, Lady Catherine took a different tack.

"Well, you cannot do this, Darcy! I will not allow it. You and Anne have been formed for each other, and promised since your cradles!"

"Perhaps you and my mother entertained such thoughts when we were infants, but we are adults now, with minds of our own. Anne and I have never had that sort of interest in each other, and I will marry the woman I love. You are my aunt, and I respect you, but I answer to no one." Darcy looked at Anne as she sat typically silent in a corner. "Cousin, you have not wished to marry me, have you?"

Anne, looking straight at her mother, pursed her lips and shook her head slowly and emphatically in the negative. Lady Catherine was appalled.

"Anne! How could you even consider such a thing! Of course you want to marry Darcy."

To Darcy's great delight, and her ladyship's astonishment, Anne spoke thus: "Do not be ridiculous, Mother."

Lady Catherine could not manage another word. She looked stupidly at her daughter as if seeing her for the first time. Never having produced such a reaction in her mother before, Anne was quick to exploit it.

"Oh, do give it up, Mother. Fitzwilliam and I barely have a friendship, let alone any sort of feelings for each other which would form the basis of a proper marriage."

Her colour high, Lady Catherine squawked out, "Feelings? What have feelings to do with marriage? Who has been filling your head with such nonsense, girl?"

Smiling smugly, Anne replied, "Mr. Hampton."

"Mr. Hampton? Ah, I knew that man was dangerous!" Darcy, much entertained by this exchange, nevertheless was concerned that his aunt might drop from apoplexy. "How dare he interfere with your destiny, Anne! What does a mere physician know about the well-born and their lives?"

Darcy now found himself in the curious position of promoting his former rival. "Mr. Hampton knows a great deal about many things, Aunt, and I think he speaks wisely."

Anne gave her cousin a grateful look, and said, "Mr. Hampton has opened my eyes in many ways, indeed. The most important thing I have learned, I think, is that I should not allow anyone else - and that includes you, Mother - to determine and direct in what manner I am to be happy. I will marry whomever I please." She paused for effect, then continued with a mischievous glint in her eye that was certainly new to her, "Perhaps I might even marry Mr. Hampton."

Lady Catherine collapsed into her chair, her colour completely gone, her mouth agape. For a dreadful moment, Darcy thought she had indeed succumbed to some malady. At length she turned to her daughter.

"Well, then. So that is how it lays. Neither of you will listen to reason, and I guarantee you will both regret your rashness." She rose unsteadily to her feet. "I shall be leaving you, Darcy. I no longer feel welcome here. As for Anne's plans - I hardly know. She is a stranger to me now."

And she stalked out of the room in what she hoped would be a regal silence. Darcy looked at his cousin to see how she bore it, and was surprised once again at her equanimity.

"Anne, I am sorry that things have turned out this way."

"I am not, cousin," replied Anne. "I am pleased as can be. I have never been more at ease in my own skin. And as for Mother," she shrugged, "you do not know her as I do. She will have to forgive me, for she has no one else, and cannot exist at Rosings without someone to berate and belittle." She cocked her head to one side. "Except that now I will know that I need not tolerate it."

"And what of Mr. Hampton?"

Anne laughed, and Darcy decided that he liked the sound of it. "Oh, rest easy, I have no intention of pursuing the doctor, much as I admire him. He has done me a great favour, encouraging me to improve my health and giving me confidence in my own decisions. But I have no illusions about the life he intends to lead, and I am too much accustomed to my comforts to follow him to Nova Scotia. Besides," and here she looked slyly at her cousin, "I do not think he would find me a fitting substitute for his previous favourite." Before Darcy, discomfited, could say anything, she added, "After a time I will tell Mother that she was right: I have changed my mind, Mr. Hampton is an unsuitable match. That will be enough for her to accept me back into Rosings. But she will understand that we shall not go on as before; I will not be a slave to her opinions."

With that, she kissed her bemused cousin on the cheek and quit the room. Shaking his head in wonderment, Darcy followed her out.

True to her word, Lady Catherine made her departure the next morning, still most seriously displeased. Despite Darcy's attempt at a cordial farewell, she did not condescend to permit him to kiss her cheek, nor did she even feign an interest in Georgiana's parting pleasantries. Anne mounted the carriage with her mother, and though it seemed that Lady Catherine was still angry with her daughter as well, there was no talk of keeping her from Rosings. Giving Darcy a wink and a wave as they drove away, she gave her cousin to understand that she was well in control of the situation, whether her mother knew it or not.

Darcy wasted no time mourning the loss of his relationship with his aunt, be it temporary or not, though he suspected it might be of some duration. He was too concerned with preparing Pemberley for the arrival of its new mistress. To his relief, Georgiana was delighted that he had finally decided to take a bride, and though her acquaintance with Miss Bennet had been brief, she valued her brother's opinion enough to accept his choice without reservation. And so the two of them spent many a companionable day making plans and the necessary arrangements, until they were both well satisfied and hied themselves most eagerly to Hertfordshire, one to become better acquainted with her future sister and the other in anticipation of a more physical reunion with the same.

Fortunate it was for Mr. Bingley that his return to Netherfield coincided with the arrival of his friend Mr. Darcy, both to wed Bennet girls. For had Mr. Bingley come back to Hertfordshire alone, he would have had to withstand the full force of the disapprobation of the neighbourhood for having departed so precipitously when his fiancée most needed his allegiance. As it stood, however, the introduction of Mr. Darcy took the better part of the gossip off Mr. Bingley's shoulders. The ladies could speak of nothing but Mr. Darcy's tall, masculine form, elegant clothes, and handsome face made all the more intriguing by its lack of perfection, while the gentlemen speculated endlessly on the accident that caused the loss of his eye, ignoring the more reasonable - and truthful - explanation in favour of dark rumours of a duel in defence of Miss Elizabeth Bennet's honour.

By the time the two couples stood side by side in the Meryton church, the entire town was in a state of high excitement. The presence of Miss Elizabeth's erstwhile suitor, Mr. Hampton, was cause for additional talk, as was the graciousness of Mr. Darcy in having invited the doctor as his particular guest. Mrs. Bennet saw her social standing rise to unheard-of levels. Great was the matriarch's disappointment, then, when Elizabeth and her wealthy new husband made their farewells immediately after the wedding breakfast, anxious in so many ways to begin their married life together.

Their first stop at an inn along the road to Derbyshire occurred a mere two hours after their departure from Longbourn. Although at another time Elizabeth might have seen fit to ask Mr. Darcy about the necessity of stopping so soon into their lengthy journey - for the days were growing longer and there were still several hours of daylight left for traveling - amorous activity within the carriage had grown so heated that she was in no mind to question his having arranged such an early halt to their first day of travel. In truth, prior to their wedding Darcy had accurately anticipated the feverish state he would be in, from being closeted with Elizabeth for any length of time after their vows were said, and decided that there would be no reason to suffer for the sake of the trip. Pemberley could wait; he could not.

The innkeeper, having been apprised at the newly-wed status of the arriving couple, was not offended in the least when they declined to take refreshment and instead insisted that they wanted only to "rest" from their journey. Servants were ordered to prepare hot bathwater and to remove themselves discreetly immediately after providing their assistance. Thanks to the impatient nature of the guests, these ablutions took no time at all.

Hence, it was still broad daylight when the newly minted Mrs. Darcy, freshly bathed, went to meet her husband in the bridal chamber. Darcy was already seated in the room when Elizabeth, lovely and glowing in a brand new white nightgown he had purchased for her in London, entered and stood uneasily amid the sunbeams. Darcy stared, his gaze all the more unnerving coming as it was from just one eye. "Will you not draw the curtains?" she asked, suddenly shy. All the pleasurable exertions in which she had engaged with Darcy up until this point had not overcome her apprehension over what was to come. And he would not cease staring at her.

Yes, he did stare, because her gown, very expensive and very, very fine, was diaphanous in the light, and he was greedily taking in the sight of her form, revealed to him in all its glory. He was particularly entranced by her shapely hips and legs, and the promise that lay between them.

"Will you not draw the curtains?" she repeated weakly, and he shook his head and smiled broadly.

"My love, I have for so long suffered the worst misery conceivable, thinking I would never see you at all, let alone standing in this manner before me. So you will have to excuse me, but I intend to see every inch of you."

Her cheeks flaming, she turned away. "You will surely be disappointed then, for I could not possibly meet the standard which your imagination has set."

Elizabeth's form in profile was even more irresistible than he would have thought possible. Although he had already been privileged to caress the fullness of her magnificent breasts, they had never before been so generously displayed before him, almost completely exposed in the thin silk of her gown, their buds barely contained within the gossamer cloth, their high curves luring him inexorably to her side. "I think you err," he whispered huskily, embracing her with a return of the fervour that had gripped him in carriage. His mouth came down upon hers, and her anxiety fell away.

Her gown soon fell away as well. For as entrancing as the sight of her in that exquisite garment was, Darcy's dearest wish was to see Elizabeth completely unclothed, and it was that sumptuous display which finally drove him to carry her urgently to the four-poster and rest her carefully in its center like some priceless jewel in a golden setting. Removing his own nightshirt was the work of mere seconds, and he returned to her side in time to prevent her from creeping beneath the sheets.

"Not yet, sweet Elizabeth, I have not done looking at you!" he exclaimed, accentuating his declaration with long caresses that ranged from her neck down to her thighs. His period of blindness had attuned him to the importance of his sense of touch, but his long-starved sense of sight would not be denied.

Yet he did not count on the effect the sight of him, naked and fully - in fact, most alarmingly - aroused, would have on Elizabeth, for despite her need for him, she was quite overwhelmed. So, her body stiff, she shut her eyes tightly and covered them with her hands.

Finally, Darcy took pity on her modesty. Kissing her gently, he rose and closed the curtains, shrouding them in darkness. There would be time enough, he reasoned, once she became accustomed to him. And he had, at least, seen that which he had most desired to see, and was, as he expected, more than delighted with it.

Now, in the dark, using his hands and his mouth, Darcy explored his beloved's body thoroughly - her mouth, her neck, her breasts, her thighs - and this time he felt a fleeting gratitude rather than resentment for his months of sightlessness, for they had acted to enhance his enjoyment of this already sublime experience. With such exquisite treatment, ere long Elizabeth was as anxious for him as he was for her, and moaned her acquiescence as he cautiously made to enter her.

Although the pain she had been told to expect did pierce her through and make her gasp, Elizabeth was vastly compensated with the pleasure that followed, and soon forgot about it - and indeed, everything else - entirely. In short order, so did Darcy. Their mutually mindless state in the robust exertions that followed, punctuated with sighs and groans and such words of love that either could manage to form on trembling lips, ended with such a visceral cry of gratification that the other denizens of the inn paused briefly to look up from their tasks in curiosity before, shrugging, resuming where they left off.

Somewhat later, after they had caught their breath, Darcy ventured once more to part the curtains so that he might have the joy of looking upon his new bride in her post-coital splendour. Now, no longer in fear of what weapon her husband's person might wield, Elizabeth could also enjoy the sight of him, for he was a most splendid specimen of the human male.

"So now you have seen all of me as well," said he, a satisfied grin upon his face, as he lay down next to her atop the coverlet.

"Not all of you," she replied, in a far more serious vein. He raised a questioning brow at her.

Tentatively, she reached out for his eye patch. At first, he withdrew, catching her hand.

"Elizabeth, what lies beneath this patch is not fit for a lady to see."

"Perhaps not for any lady, but it is fit for your wife to see." Gently she removed her hand and reached for the patch once more.

Sighing, Darcy submitted reluctantly. How would she react? He prayed she would not view him with disgust or pity, particularly now, so soon after they had shared such bliss.

With an air of confidence she little felt, Elizabeth lifted the patch to gaze upon the damaged skin beneath, an unnatural mass of gnarled scar tissue where Darcy's eye had once been. She bit her lip, refusing herself any other outward reaction, then very deliberately leaned forward and tenderly kissed the distorted flesh. Replacing the covering, she drew her hand down her husband's uninjured cheek and said, "Now I have seen the entirety of you, Mr. Darcy, and I have never seen anything more beautiful."

Here, dear reader, we may take our leave of our hero and heroine, as the remainder of their long lives would merely be a continuation of the happiness and passion that marked their first day together as man and wife. There would be much more lovemaking - both riotous and romantic - some of which would result in a boisterous clutch of children. There would also be a great deal of reading, for having recovered his ability to do so, Darcy never tired of reading aloud to his beloved wife - as she had once done for him in his bleakest hour - and his children. And none of them ever tired of hearing his voice as he did so.

Should the reader care to know the fate of Mr. Hampton, it is this: shortly after the Bennet wedding, the doctor did indeed move to Nova Scotia as he had planned, but he travelled alone. He established what became a thriving medical practice in Halifax, and the residents were abundantly grateful to have a man of such expertise living in their midst. Mr. Hampton also had the good fortune, within two years, to marry a cheerful widow closer to his own age, and they lived out a comfortable life in a house his son designed and built for them.

Anne de Bourgh, it must be added, continued to follow the regimen suggested by Mr. Hampton, and, greatly improved, made a love match with a much sought-after bachelor the very next Season. True, she was no great beauty - was, in fact, considered extremely plain - but her fiancé could only see Anne's lively character and her strength in standing up to her notoriously overbearing mother. And well, you know what they say about beauty.

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