#Elizabeth/Darcy

[lothiriel84]

On the Other Side from You

In the early days of her marriage, she had used to daydream of a world in which Mr Darcy did not exist, and she was still the carefree girl roaming the fields around Longbourn, with no prospect of becoming a wife and a mother anytime soon.

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Darcy/Elizabeth. AU to the near-kiss in the rain from the 2005 film adaptation.

Still trembling with righteous indignation from their explosive fight not two hours prior, Elizabeth marched into his study, quickly dismissing the fleeting pang of guilt at the impropriety of rifling through one’s husband correspondence without permission. After everything he had done to stand in the way of Jane’s happiness, she was most certainly not prepared to take him at his word on this matter; she needed to see Mr Bingley’s letter for herself, if only to be reassured that any undue interference on Mr Darcy’s part was entirely over.  

By now, she had long resigned herself to a lifetime with a husband she could not respect, for the sake of the child she was carrying if nothing else; but she could not, would not stand for the same fate befalling her beloved sister, and if that meant betraying her future brother’s confidence, then so be it. A rather coarse word escaped her as she struggled with the uppermost drawer of his writing desk, which appeared to have become stuck rather firmly. Eventually, she managed to extract a somewhat wrinkled envelope from underneath it, and was about to toss it in with the rest when her eyes fell on her own name – her real name, as she thought of it, though she had been forced to relinquish it in favour of her husband’s – penned very neatly in Mr Darcy’s own elegant hand.  

She stared at the letter for a good five minutes before she could make up her mind whether she should open it. For all that she had come in here with the express intention to peruse some private correspondence that was never meant for her eyes, this felt like a graver transgression for some reason she could not fully explain, not even to herself. For all that it was unmistakably addressed to her, it had also very clearly been sitting at the bottom of a drawer for the past few months, and she could not surmise Mr Darcy had truly meant for her to read it.  

In the end, it was the uncomfortable suspicion that its contents might relate to her greatest shame that prompted her to tear the seal open, and unfold two sheets of paper covered in her husband’s handwriting which Miss Bingley had once praised at some length. Whatever she had been expecting, it had been nothing like this; by the time she reached his final blessing and flowing signature, she was crying bitter tears of regret for how sorely she had misjudged the way things stood between Mr Darcy and Mr Wickham.  

Her heart ached for her new sister – poor Georgiana, how much she had suffered at the hands of one she had considered a friend her entire life – and swift on its heels, a renewal of her shame at how unpardonable her conduct had been, and with far less inducement than a sweet, innocent fifteen-year-old had been subjected to. Not for the first time since their hasty marriage, she found herself revisiting her memories of that fateful morning, when she had spurned Mr Darcy’s offer of marriage so vehemently, only to immediately succumb to a physical longing so potent she had never known the likes of it before.  

The ungentlemanliness of his conduct back then paled in the face of her own shocking wantonness in allowing him such liberties with her person, against all reason and judgement. When she had been forced to seek him out, later, as the reality of her condition became more and more apparent, she had been tempted to put all the blame on him, only to discover that she could not, in all conscience, allow such deceit to take place. She might despise him and resent the consequences of his actions, but she could not forget how in the madness of the moment she had not only failed to refuse him, but rather fully encouraged his attentions.  

And now Jane and Bingley were about to marry, while she had perhaps ruined her every chance at finding some modicum of happiness in this marriage she had been forced into by circumstances alone. Arms wrapped protectively around her growing midsection, she sank further into her husband’s particular chair, and prayed that there was still time for her to make amends, perhaps even begin anew in the arduous task of carving out a life for themselves, together.  

.

“Do not fret yourself so, Mrs Darcy,” Mrs Reynolds was vainly trying to soothe her, as she had been attempting to do for the better part of the day. “The Master will surely arrive in time for dinner, or at least send word if he finds he’s unable to.” 

Still, dinnertime came and went, with no hide nor hair of her husband to be seen, and nobody the wiser of his whereabouts except that he had sent for his horse as soon as she had declared their argument to be over, and rode out in a temper in no clearly discernible direction. Elizabeth was beside herself with worry by then, and could not be persuaded to take any sustenance, not even for the sake of her child. In the early days of her marriage, she had used to daydream of a world in which Mr Darcy did not exist, and she was still the carefree girl roaming the fields around Longbourn, with no prospect of becoming a wife and a mother anytime soon; but now, she found she could not bear the thought of any harm ever coming to her husband, who had been nothing but unflinchingly kind to her in the face of her barely disguised animosity, and had placed no demands whatsoever on her, save for what little he deemed necessary for the sake of their unborn child.  

She remembered how she had very nearly shouted to his face, before he turned on his heels and stalked out of the room, that he had better pray for this child to be a boy, for she would rather die than let him touch her ever again; how she wished her cutting words unsaid now, as she paced from room to room with a distressed Mrs Reynolds in her wake, who vainly begged her mistress to lie down and get some rest, for it would not do to overexert herself in her condition. As angry as Mr Darcy had undoubtedly been upon leaving the house, it was not like him to disappear in such a thoughtless manner without informing anyone of his staff, his faithful housekeeper most particularly; therefore, Elizabeth could only surmise something must have happened to him, and she knew she would never forgive herself if her earlier outburst had caused him any harm, directly or otherwise.  

When it became clear that there was very little which could be done in the way of locating Mr Darcy considering the lateness of the hour and the unfavourable weather – autumn had brought dense mists all over Derbyshire, and Pemberley in particular – Elizabeth allowed herself to be escorted to her chambers, where she proceeded to cry herself to sleep until the early hours of the morning. By breakfast time, she felt like she could not bear the wait any longer, and was resolved to join the search party that had been scouring the grounds since the break of dawn; she was in the middle of arguing her right as the Mistress of the house to do as she pleased, disregarding each and every one of Mrs Reynold’s perfectly sensible objections to such an imprudent course of action on her part, when the groundskeeper burst in to announce that the Master had been found, badly injured and still unconscious from his fall, with his faithful horse standing guard to him – but that he should live, God willing, and the doctor ought to be sent for posthaste.  

Elizabeth had a fortifying cup of tea pressed into her hands before she was finally allowed into her husband’s chambers just as he was being laid with great care on his bed; she gasped at the sight of the deep gash cutting through his temple and cheek, and though she had never uttered his Christian name before, it came naturally to her lips in a cry of heartfelt concern as she rushed to his side. She would not leave the room even when the doctor came in to examine him, could scarcely breathe until she was reassured that, though his ribs were bruised and his right knee very badly sprained, he was in no immediate danger; though only time would tell what damage his head had sustained in the impact, and for that, they needed to wait until he regained consciousness.  

The doctor then took some pains to impress upon Mrs Darcy that she ought not distress herself overmuch in her condition, and that it was her duty to look after her own health for the child’s sake. Elizabeth thanked him, though she felt no particular inclination to take his advice that she should seek bed rest for herself, and instead took what she now considered her rightful place at her husband’s bedside. As she watched over his recumbent form, unmoving save for the slight rise and fall of his chest with his every breath, she realised she had long stopped hating him – perhaps she had never truly had, not in the way she thought she did up until now.  

It was not until she was about to succumb to her bone-deep exhaustion, despite her better efforts, that she realised the nature of her feelings for him might have undergone such a fundamental change she could not have seen coming when she had found herself in the unwelcome position of having to swallow her pride and beg him to rescue her from complete ruination.  

.

By the time Mr Darcy regained full consciousness, Miss Darcy was on her way to Pemberley, accompanied by Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet. Mr Bennet’s objections to such an arrangement had not been entirely quelled by Mrs Annesley’s assurance that she would be acting as a very strict chaperone to the young couple; Elizabeth, on her part, could not entirely fault her father’s anxiety, as she knew only too well they were founded in the sharp disappointment she herself had caused him with her scandalous conduct, but was only too happy at the prospect of soon being reunited with her beloved sister, as she felt much in need of her comforting presence after the past week’s ordeal.  

As soon as the doctor had ruled out any lasting damage to Mr Darcy’s faculties, she had cast herself at her husband’s mercy, begging him for his forgiveness for everything that had transpired between them since their disastrous confrontation at Rosings, and expressing her sincere wish for a fresh start between them, for the sake of their child at least, if he could not bring himself to consider it for her alone.  

“I am only sorry to have caused you so much distress, Madam,” Mr Darcy shook his head, and winced as it only seemed to sharpen the lingering ache to his temple. “I shall endeavour to do better in the future.” 

Her eyes filled with tears as she remembered those dreadful hours she had spent fearing for his very life, and she squeezed his hand with more vigour than strictly necessary. “No more horses from now on. I forbid it.” 

“That would be hardly practical, as you may very easily surmise,” Mr Darcy sighed. Then, in one of his occasionally ill-timed stabs at humour, he offered with a small, wry smile. “Either way, might I remind you that Pemberley is not, in fact, entailed, and that by the terms of our marriage settlement you and your family will be amply provided for, regardless of whether I am survived by any child of my own?” 

Elizabeth drew back as sharply as if she had been slapped. “How can you speak so!” she cried out indignantly, placing both hands on her midsection as if to seek reassurance of her child’s continued wellbeing. She was immediately rewarded for her trouble with a firm kick to her ribs, and she doubled over as much for the surprise as she did for the pain, causing her husband to throw away his bedcovers in a bid to rush to her aid.  

“I am well,” she said decisively, pushing at his shoulder until he lay back down against the pillows. “Your heir is just as troublesome as you are, that is all.” 

“I feel sure it is a girl,” he promptly shot back, though his manner was far from confrontational. “A little Miss Darcy, with her mother’s liveliness and her sparkling eyes.” 

“Then I shall be sorry for you, Sir,” she told him demurely, for she longed to resume their previous conversation about the matter, though she did not know how to go about it.  

Mr Darcy quickly averted his eyes. “You need not be. I may not be proud of the reckless, ungentlemanlike manner in which I imposed upon you, but you may rest assured that, boy or girl, this child will be loved most fiercely, regardless of the accidents of its conception.” 

“I know,” she nodded, a soft smile touching her lips. “I can tell from the way you look at Georgiana, when you think no one can see you.” 

A pained look crossed her husband’s features, and he ran his fingers through his hair in a somewhat agitated manner. “You would not believe so, if you knew to which extent I failed in my duty to protect my poor, abused sister. And if she were ever to learn the truth about the way I conducted myself with a gentleman’s daughter – it does not even bear thinking.” 

Elizabeth once more took her place at his side, gently reached for his hand and held it between her own. “I do know of it, Fitzwilliam. I found your letter, the one you wrote after – Rosings. I know I should not have, but I’m glad that I did, and I will not have you blame yourself for something that is entirely Mr Wickham’s fault.” 

“He did not – not in the way I did to you,” Mr Darcy felt the need to explain, and she held firm when he made a half-hearted attempt to extract his hand from her grasp. “My sister is still an innocent, and I am a worse cad than Wickham himself for taking such liberties with a woman who had just expressed the true extent of her disdain for me so clearly.”  

“You did nothing I did not allow you to – encouraged, even, in my brazen unmaidenliness. I am not so bitter that I will let you shoulder my own share of the blame, Mr Darcy.” 

Her husband closed his eyes, just for a moment, his fingers threading through hers in the boldest display he had allowed himself in all the months of their marriage. “Elizabeth, I – I will have you know I had never once conducted myself in such a manner before, and though you may not care for my promise, I shall not, ever, with another woman.” 

“I should hope so,” she arched her eyebrow in as haughty a manner as she could contrive, though she found it difficult to sustain the charade in the face of the earnestness in her husband’s gaze. “You may even find, in time, that your bride is not so averse to the renewal of your attentions as she previously considered herself to be.” 

For a moment there, he looked just as startled as when she had first sought him out to inform him of her increasing state; then she saw his eyes darken, and the gaze he turned upon her was so full of unrestrained longing she felt herself grow weak at the knees. “This is very cruel of you, Madam,” he stated, very formally, though the hoarseness of his tone betrayed his manner. “To make such a confession at a time when you know very well nothing may come of it, as I am still injured and you are growing ever larger with my child.” 

“I am not so large yet that my husband should find the prospect of kissing me too unappealing, I hope,” she could not help but tease him; and then she let out a small, undignified squeak as he resolutely tugged her off her chair, and very nearly caused her to topple straight onto his bruised ribs.  

This second kiss – for she was determined that only the first instance of his lips touching hers should count, though he had kept his mouth on her for the duration – came as much less of a surprise than their first, yet was considerably more pleasurable an experience for all parties involved. And if the young Darcy decided to make her presence known by wedging an elbow in such a manner as to cause maximum discomfort to both of her parents, it was quickly forgiven, her bad manners rewarded with her own share of her father’s kisses placed with diligent care on her mother’s stomach.  

#Pride and Prejudice #Pride and Prejudice (2005) #Elizabeth Bennet #Mr Darcy #Elizabeth/Darcy #alternate universe #canon divergence #unplanned pregnancy #historical inaccuracies #I don't even know #I wrote a thing #A Momentary Lapse of Reason (series)

[dresupi]

To whom it may concern:

I am currently writing an Elizabeth/Darcy ABO novel...

I am loving every second.

And I just hit 10k words, which is where my inspiration usually dries up.  So I’m holding myself accountable. Gonna see this one through and finish it!

#P&P #elizabeth/darcy #ABO #alpha omega dynamics

[crescentcampbell]

Darcy: You're a hot mess. I love it. Marry me.

Elizabeth: What the ever loving fuck?

#pride and prejudice #fitzwilliam darcy #elizabeth bennet #darcy/elizabeth #elizabeth/darcy #jane austen

[blessyouhawkeye]

the fact that we as a society have the muppets and they are not everywhere in our cultural consciousness is appalling. why aren't the muppets hosting the oscars. why aren't the muppets commentating the olympics. why aren't the muppets coming to a theatre near me every year with a new adaptation of a classic novel. genuinely what are we doing.

#i need the muppets in a rendition of pride and prejudice with kermit as elizabeth miss piggy as darcy and meryl streep as mrs bennett NOW.

[dinosaur-mayonnaise]

obsessed with characters who were written for one another. like, what do you mean the reason for my existence is to be by your side? what do you mean our divine purpose is to belong to one another, for better or worse?

#skk #sskk #catradora #sophie x howl #ranpoe #elizabeth x darcy #you x your rival in pokemon

[bad-at-names-and-faces]

Pumpkin

@flufftober

Pride and Prejudice, set shortly after the end of the main events of the book...

“Goodness, how have those pumpkins grown so large?” Elizabeth asked as she walked toward the kitchen gardens. 

“Our gardener has been working on them for years,” Darcy replied proudly.

‘Indeed.  Ours never got them quite that large, but I don’t think he particularly took an interest in them, either.”

“These pumpkins are yours, now,” Darcy reminded her.

“Of course,” she said, still getting used to the idea in her mind. It had been a week since she had arrived in Pemberley as its mistress, and many days she still caught herself thinking of herself as a guest, or worse, intruder.

#flufftober2023 #day 20 #pride and prejudice #elizabeth/darcy #jane austen fanfiction #100 word drabble

[dubiousculturalartifact]

do you ever think about how darcy's perspective of the visit to rosings is just... a completely wild time. so like. he and his favourite cousin goes to visit with his weird aunt, and ends up running into this hot girl, that he's really kinda increasingly into? she's staying in the area for a while with her bestie. so like. he was expecting a boring social obligation visit & getting pressure into marrying his other, less favourite cousin. instead, he watches the hot girl hold her own with his aunt in conversation. she banters with him over the pianoforte and they have a Moment™. he keeps going over to the house she's staying at, just to awkwardly chill there, even though he doesn't like the other people there. has a whole conversation with her about how she wouldn't mind living far away from family, as long as she could afford the travel. he extends his visit so he can keep seeing her. when he runs into her on a walk, she makes a point of detailing the exact route she prefers to take while out walking, clearly encouraging him to join her, so he does. he has a really nice time on these walks, they spend a lot of time in companionable silence, but he manages to flirt a little by implying some stuff about the future & what their married life could be like, and they have some conversations about that. and sure, she has some family baggage, but none of them are around so it's a lot easier to ignore, y'know? so eventually he just can't take it anymore, and he shoots his shot. she clearly values honesty so he explains his scruples as well, but he thinks she's been dropping some favourable signals, so he's got a good chance, right?

and then not only she turns him down she ROASTS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM. she insults him. she insults his honour as a gentleman. she flips the fuck out about... oh yeah crap the sister thing, turns out his cousin blabbed, and then I'M SORRY YOU SAID WHAT? ABOUT WICKHAM? THIS IS ABOUT FUCKING WICKHAM, MY FUCKING NEMESIS? HE FUCKING SAID WHAT ABOUT.... OH MY GOD. oh fuck. I've fucked up so badly I need to reevaluate my entire life & risk sending a letter to an unmarried woman who hates my guts, just so i can explain shit. fuck.

#jane austen #like #pride & prejudice #adaptations really downplay how much darcy was genuinely flirting with elizabeth for like half the time #and she was just. clueless #wait no that's emma #she was not perceptive #but they’re well suited because darcy? #also not perceptive #(shhh it’s the Autism)

[whetstonefires]

You know what I realize that people underestimate with Pride & Prejudice is the strategic importance of Jane.

Because like, I recently saw Charlotte and Elizabeth contrasted as the former being pragmatic and the latter holding out for a love match, because she's younger and prettier and thinks she can afford it, and that is very much not what's happening.

The Charlotte take is correct, but the Elizabeth is all wrong. Lizzie doesn't insist on a love match. That's serendipitous and rather unexpected. She wants, exactly as Mr. Bennet says, someone she can respect. Contempt won't do. Mr. Bennet puts it in weirdly sexist terms like he's trying to avoid acknowledging what he did to himself by marrying a self-absorbed idiot, but it's still true. That's what Elizabeth is shooting for: a marriage that won't make her unhappy.

She's grown up watching how miserable her parents make one another; she's not willing to sign up for a lifetime of being bitter and lonely in her own home.

I think she is very aware, in refusing Mr. Collins, that it's reasonably unlikely that anyone she actually respects is going to want her, with her few accomplishments and her lack of property. That she is turning down security and the chance keep the house she grew up in, and all she gets in return may be spinsterhood.

But, crucially, she has absolute faith in Jane.

The bit about teaching Jane's daughters to embroider badly? That's a joke, but it's also a serious potential life plan. Jane is the best creature in the world, and a beauty; there's no chance at all she won't get married to someone worthwhile.

(Bingley mucks this up by breaking Jane's heart, but her prospects remain reasonable if their mother would lay off!)

And if Elizabeth can't replicate that feat, then there's also no doubt in her mind that Jane will let her live in her house as a dependent as long as she likes, and never let it be made shameful or awful to be that impoverished spinster aunt. It will be okay never to be married at all, because she has her sister, whom she trusts absolutely to succeed and to protect her.

And if something eventually happens to Jane's family and they can't keep her anymore, she can throw herself upon the mercy of the Gardeners, who have money and like her very much, and are likewise good people. She has a support network--not a perfect or impregnable one, but it exists. It gives her realistic options.

Spinsterhood was a very dangerous choice; there are reasons you would go to considerable lengths not to risk it.

But Elizabeth has Jane, and her pride, and an understanding of what marrying someone who will make you miserable costs.

That's part of the thesis of the book, I would say! Recurring Austen thought. How important it is not to marry someone who will make you, specifically, unhappy.

She would rather be a dependent of people she likes and trusts than of someone she doesn't, even if the latter is formally considered more secure; she would rather live in a happy, reasonable household as an extra than be the mistress of her own home, but that home is full of Mr. Collins and her mother.

This is a calculation she's making consciously! She's not counting on a better marriage coming along. She just feels the most likely bad outcome from refusing Mr. Collins is still much better than the certain outcome of accepting him. Which is being stuck with Mr. Collins forever.

Elizabeth is also being pragmatic. Austen also endorses her choice, for the person she is and the concerns she has. She's just picking different trade-offs than Charlotte.

Elizabeth's flaw is not in her own priorities; she doesn't make a reckless choice and get lucky. But in being unable to accept that Charlotte's are different, and it doesn't mean there's anything wrong with Charlotte.

Because realistically, when your marriage is your whole family and career forever, and you only get to pick the ones that offer themselves to you, when you are legally bound to the status of dependent, you're always going to be making some trade-offs.

😂 Even the unrealistically ideal dream scenario of wealthy handsome clever ethical Mr. Darcy still asks you to undergo personal growth, accommodate someone else's communication style, and eat a little crow.

#hoc est meum #pride and prejudice #elizabeth bennet #charlotte lucas #meta #charlotte is a much less sociable person than lizzie #so avoiding her husband most of the time and not seeking out his company is more viable for her! #she also has more patience for people being wrong #partly i think because she kinds checks out and lets them get on with it which lizzie isn't too great at even with her mother #people have different needs like that's a thing okay #marriage #spinsterhood #pragmatism #like if elizabeth had to listen to collins talk for a few months straight she would be nearly insane with rage #he's not just a low-quality man he's a man designed to be the worst for her specifically #also note that because jane's marriage is elizabeth's fallback plan #darcy screwed her over personally by interfering between her and bingley #she ofc does not bring this up how could she #but it's intensifying the anger during the hunsford rejection i think

[zipadeea]

One of my favorite things about Pride and Prejudice is the Bennet family’s complete cluelessness about Darcy and Elizabeth. Like, if this were a tv show about the Bennets, Darcy and Elizabeth are like, the D storyline. The whole family is trying to get Jane and Bingley together, the regiment is stationed in Meryton, Mr. Collins is taking the house, Lydia and Wickham are obviously the climax, these people have a lot going on. And then, once the regiment has left and Jane and Lydia and Mr. Collins are married and everything seems resolved: plot twist! They’ve got random nobility at the door in the middle of the night telling the know-it-all sister who has been home on and off through the year not to marry the rando rich guy they all hate simply because they’re family and loyal to each other damnit and he called the know-it-all sister ugly once. 

And then, of course, they all find out Lizzy and Darcy are actually very in love and literally all of the good things that have happened to them this year are a direct consequence of Darcy loving Lizzy lolol. 

#pride and prejudice #i am once again watching 2005 pride and prejudice #mr darcy #Elizabeth Bennet #jane austen #it's just so good

[dogzcats]

#pride and prejudice #p&p2005 #elizabeth bennet #pride and prejudice 2005 #mr darcy #elizabeth x darcy #keira knightley #matthew mcfayden #perioddramaedit #perioddramasource #austenedit #jane austen #regencyedit #anna attempts photoshop #rain scene #1k+ #5k+ #10k+ #10k

[rumble-bee-art]

It may be a less known fact of her biography that Jane Austen kickstarted both one angel penchant for cotillion and one demon love for spy adventures

#yes mr darcy reminds aziraphale of crowley #not lastly because he sometimes is as prone to prejudice as elizabeth #just saying #good omens #good omens season 2 #go #go2 fanart #good omens fanart #the ineffable husbands #ineffable husbands #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #crowley #a j crowley #Jane Austen #my art #artist on tumblr

[lothiriel84]

A Man Who Had Felt Less

In the first weeks of their marriage, Mr Darcy could not bear to be parted from his wife for more than a few hours at a time.

A Pride and Prejudice ficlet. Bisexual!Darcy/biromantic!Elizabeth.

In the first weeks of their marriage, Mr Darcy could not bear to be parted from his wife for more than a few hours at a time. Elizabeth was by then so familiar with his habitual reserve that she could scarcely reconcile her view of his character with his newfound boldness, as he bothered not to conceal the tenderness of his regard for her from the eyes of the servants and their acquaintances alike. And while she repeatedly told herself that there could be no gross impropriety in a married couple sharing such innocent displays of affection, she was more than a little surprised to discover that out of the two of them, he would be the one to welcome such openness of feelings, rather than the other way round.

In all honesty, she did not mind being the object of his attentions so much as she felt like she ought to, if she was to live up to the standards of respectability required of a Mrs Darcy of Pemberley; how a man who could scarcely prevail upon his own reluctance when conversing with strangers, be at such an ease when it came to exposing his own sentiments – albeit completely natural and just – to the world, it was a mystery she couldn’t seem to unravel.

No sooner had she determined to give him time to adjust to their newly entered state before confronting him on the reasons for such unprecedented behaviour, that he startled her out of her resolve by planting a chaste, yet most affectionate kiss on her brow as he passed her by in the hall where she had been discussing household matters with Mrs Reynolds. Deeply conscious of being closely watched by such a dignified figure as the venerable housekeeper, Elizabeth stiffened, coloured, and without a conscious decision on her part, stepped away from his touch.

The effect such an ill-timed reaction had on her husband was immediate and striking; gone was his relaxed, playful countenance, as he quickly withdrew behind his mask of cold indifference. Formally, he begged her pardon for interrupting her conference with Mrs Reynolds, gave her a short bow, and retreated to his private study, which he did not appear to be inclined to leave for the remainder of the day. The afternoon tea had long been cleared away when a footman appeared bearing a note from his master to the mistress of the house, in which Mr Darcy again begged her pardon for embarrassing her in front of the servants, and expressed his wish to retire to separate chambers for the night. Elizabeth stared at the missive for a good two minutes before crumpling it between her fingers, and quitting the room with such an haste that sorely tested the impeccable training of the poor footman, as well as that of two chambermaids she passed along on the staircase.

“Fitzwilliam Darcy, let me in this instant,” she demanded almost before she had finished knocking. “I may not boast an illustrious lineage such as your aunt’s, but you will find I am not to be trifled with, either.”

The silence stretched on uncomfortably for several minutes, and she was starting to consider the merits of causing a scene in front of all the servants, when the key finally turned into the lock and her husband emerged, pale, but with all the appearance of perfect calm and manners. “Mrs Darcy,” he acknowledged her with the slightest nod of his head, and immediately averted his eyes. “How may I be of service?”

Such an abrupt reversal to the aloof manner he had assumed at the beginning of their acquaintance was too much for Elizabeth’s nerves, and she surprised them both by bursting into tears. In short order, her husband had gathered her into his arms, shut the door firmly behind them, and was peppering her face with gentle kisses, all the while begging her forgiveness for being such an ass as to make her cry. “I don’t know what came over me,” she shook her head at length, allowing herself a reproachful little smile. “It would appear I am turning into my own mother, and rather sooner than anyone might have expected.”

“Were you a man, I might call you out for daring to spout such nonsense about my dearest wife,” he jested in a half-hearted manner, his arms tightening their hold around her. “I am very sorry for the way I overreacted; I promise I shall be more considerate of your own sensibilities in the future.”

She had by then calmed sufficiently to be able to turn her mind to more pressing matters. “I fear it is I who ought to apologise for my earlier misstep; I believe I hurt you deeply, and while it was most unconsciously done, I feel no less ashamed of it.”

“Elizabeth, it is no matter. I had not realised I was making you uncomfortable; otherwise, I would have strived to correct my behaviour sooner.”

“I would not say uncomfortable, so much as – confused, I suppose. Fitzwilliam, I never knew you to be one for such open displays of affection, and though I will admit I may require a little time to get used to the notion, it is by no means unpleasant nor unwelcome.” She paused, bit her lip, then purposely met his gaze. “I know this is asking a lot, but if you could possibly assist in my understanding of your own feelings, it would help me considerably in settling any remaining uneasiness on my part.”

Darcy was silent for a very long time, looking as embarrassed as he ever was. “Elizabeth, I don’t suppose – I know you told me about your friend Charlotte, but I cannot help but feel – do you have any idea how hard it is, being forced to suppress an integral part of yourself, day after day, for the entirety of your life? Constantly guarding your every action, word, or look, lest the world might guess the object of your affections, and condemn you for it? And were you to find yourself the recipient of a regard as acceptable to society as you had never dared to allow yourself to hope, what would you do, then?”

“Oh,” was all Elizabeth could utter, deeply moved by such a confession. Enforced discretion had never been an integral part of her prior acquaintance to her dear friend, as it was naturally surmised their mutual affection to be born of friendship and familiarity rather than a more tender feeling. She knew from his letter that the peculiar nature of his affections for his own childhood friend was both similar yet quite substantially different from her own experience, and her heart ached at the thought of what he might have being made to suffer at the hands of his relations, had a single careless misstep caused his secret to come out in the open. What he had suffered regardless, she could scarcely imagine; it was heartbreaking enough to think he had once been forced to choose between his own respectability and the person he loved most dearly, and at that moment, she vowed she would do everything within her power to make up for the unfairness of his past.

“I am well aware I ought to have consulted your own feelings on the matter,” Fitzwilliam continued, breaking her out of her reverie. “I do apologise for failing to do so in a more prompt fashion. Your comfort is of the utmost importance to me, and I am prepared to behave in a manner more suited to your own expectations, should you wish it.”

On a sudden impulse, Elizabeth grabbed him by the hand and tugged him towards the door, which she then proceeded to unlock and throw open. “You may kiss me now,” she announced with a somewhat impish grin, her eyes dancing merrily at the sight of her bewildered husband glancing nervously over his shoulder for any passing servant. “I am waiting,” she added, pouting in such a way as never failed to entice him into the most passionate of displays.

“Are you now satisfied, wife?” he ventured to enquire at length, touching his brow to hers as they both struggled to regain their composure.

“Most satisfied, husband mine,” she grinned brightly, eliciting such a delighted smile from him she thought she might not mind making a spectacle of themselves right in the middle of the marketplace, should he find himself thus inclined.

If the elderly butler who had been serving at Pemberley under the old Mr Darcy happened to walk down the corridor at that very moment, he knew better than to spare a single glance towards his master’s study, let alone notice the familiar manner said master was sporting with his beautiful wife. Young love was a wondrous thing, and so he would tell Mrs Reynolds as soon as he passed her by on his way to the servants’ quarters.

And the young master deserved his own share of happiness, he was certain of it.

#Pride and Prejudice #Elizabeth Bennet #Mr Darcy #Elizabeth/Darcy #bisexual character #biromantic character #period-typical homophobia #internalised homophobia #post-canon #I wrote a thing #Pride (In the Name of Love) [collection]

[laurenillustrated]

“She is tolerable; but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

Pride and Prejudice illustration based on the book.

#jane austen #jane austen art #jane austin quote #pride and prejudice #pride and prejudice art #mr darcy #fitzwilliam darcy #elizabeth bennet #lizzie bennet #elizabeth and darcy #book illustrations #book illustration #character illustration #illustration art #kids illustration #regency period #regency era #regency england

[duchess-of-new-shire]

My favorite ship dynamic of all time, ever, is a little something I like to call anxiety x audacity

Examples:

#ship #ship dynamics #miss piggy #kermit #the muppets #pride and prejudice #elizabeth bennet #lizzy bennet #mr darcy #fitzwilliam darcy #jane austen #the good place #chidi anagonye #chidi and eleanor #eleanor shellstrop

[nerdside]

Pride and Prejudice characters + being a mood

#pride and prejudice #jane austen #film edit #movie edit #mine #my edit #elizabeth x darcy #mr darcy #elizabeth bennet #keira knightley #matthew macfadyen #papedit #lizzy bennet #fitzwilliam darcy #period drama

[wylansvanhendriks]

jane austen was right!!!!! i AM half agony half hope!!!!! if i loved you less i COULD talk about it more!!!!!!!! i WAS in the middle before i knew i had begun!!!!!!!

#maybe im not a jane austen heroine maybe im the pathetic love interest head over heels for them #jane austen #persuasion #emma #pride and prejudice #frederick wentworth #george knightley #fitzwilliam darcy #anne elliot #emma woodhouse #elizabeth bennet #book: persuasion #book: emma #book: pride and prejudice #text #userevaz