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Although she did not contradict him, the housekeeper did attempt to improve his spirits. “You are accustomed to being in charge. It isn’t an easy transition to make, to share responsibilities.”

“What should I do, Mrs. Reynolds?” he asked softly. Could it be only yesterday that he had been congratulating himself that he and Elizabeth had not had any major arguments in nearly a month?

The older woman pursed her lips, but concluded that the poor lad was in need of some motherly advice. “I’d suggest that you apologize, admit your mistakes, and beg for forgiveness,” she replied succinctly. “Flowers never hurt.”

Fitzwilliam was nodding even as he stood. “Do you know where she is?”

“Mrs. Darcy was just leaving for a walk when I came here, sir.” At the young man’s look of concern, she reassured him, “She had her boots and coat on and should be perfectly warm. It’s a temperate day for Derbyshire in January.”

Darcy kissed the older woman’s cheek on the way to the door. “Thank you, Mrs. Reynolds. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me.” Embarrassed by his confession, Will left quickly.

Watching him depart upon his quest, Susan Reynolds thought of the boy he had been and the young man he had grown to be. “Good luck, lad,” she murmured softly to the empty room. “That young lady will be the making of you.”

The sun shone brightly in a clear blue sky, making the snowy landscape seem to sparkle.

However, Will noticed very little of it as he walked, looking out across the gardens and hoping to catch a glimpse of his wife.

Finally, he noticed a set of footprints in the snow leading off a beaten path.

A closer look confirmed that they were the treads of a lady’s boot, of a size of his wife’s and recently made.

And of course, they headed toward the woods.

As he followed the trackway, Darcy berated himself for his arrogance.

Why would he jump to the assumption that Elizabeth did not know what she was doing?

Others might think him a besotted fool, but he had noticed that the household was running more smoothly since he had brought home the new Mrs. Darcy.

In fact, he realized that many things had improved, now that he considered it.

While still perfectly well-behaved, the Pemberley servants seemed happier, less anxious.

Even the menu had benefitted from introduction of a wider variety of meals, and Elizabeth had somehow managed it so that the cook was happy to try the new recipes.

Mrs. Wolseley had started in the Pemberley kitchens when Will was still a boy, soon after the death of his mother.

George Darcy had had little interest in what he ate after so much tragedy and as a result, Cook was accustomed to having full control over her kitchens, including the menus.

When Will had become master, he had made the mistake of requesting a dessert that he had sampled in London and the ensuing fuss had included Mrs. Wolseley threatening to quit.

Somehow, Elizabeth garnered the opposite response in the older servant.

Darcy would not have believed it had he not been sitting in his wife’s study when Trudy Wolseley herself bustled in with several fruit tarts for his wife to try, almost giggling with glee as Elizabeth sampled each and agreed with her on the better recipe.

After this example came to mind, Fitzwilliam began to think of a dozen other changes, many small, that had enhanced his life or the lives of those who lived here since Elizabeth had moved into his home.

Decorating for Christmas had never been of any particular interest to him until Elizabeth had led the way with her effervescent joy.

Before he knew it, Mrs. Reynolds had helped search the attics to discover trunks filled with old ornaments.

Although he would never have imagined it, Darcy had had a marvelous time going out with their guests to cut pine branches and holly and then helping decorate the house with wreaths and ribbons.

He had never seen Georgiana so transparently joyful, and even Caroline Bingley had been swept into the holiday atmosphere for an afternoon… and Elizabeth had managed it all.

And after all she had done, how did he thank her?

By treating her as if she was one of those empty-headed, poorly-educated Society ladies whom he had spurned for years.

As he walked, Darcy kicked at a small snowdrift and wished it was his own backside.

He followed the trail as it entered the woods until, coming around a bend, he caught sight of his wife.

She was standing on the footbridge, leaning with both elbows on the stone ledge and staring down into the stream.

As he neared, he saw that she held a pine branch in her hands and was dropping its needles one by one into the icy water below.

By the time he reached the first step, Will could see that her nose and eyes were red from more than the cold and his gut tightened even more over the thought of her tears.

Any elegantly phrased words of apology were instantly forgot.

“Elizabeth… I apologize for my words earlier. Except that does not even begin to describe how sorry I am… I cannot imagine what prompted me to treat you with such disrespect…” He trailed off, struggling to find the right things to say.

Elizabeth turned and studied him for a long moment but eventually she gave him a small smile. “Apology accepted.”

Darcy looked upon her tired face and bowed his head. “I don’t deserve to be forgiven so easily…”

Any vestiges of anger that Elizabeth might still have harbored evaporated at the sight of such a man humbling himself.

Smiling, she reached out to brush some snow from his shoulder.

“Truly, sir. You are forgiven, and no amount of groveling shall gain you my unforgiveness , no matter how strongly you believe yourself deserving of it.”

While Darcy took a moment to work out her meaning, his wife moved closer and cupped his chin in her hands. “Fitzwilliam—I love you, and no fit of mid-winter crotchetiness is going to drive me away.”

A little shocked that she understood him so well, Will pulled her into a tight embrace, wrapping his great coat around her. He’d rarely been more relieved than when he felt her hands reach around his waist. “I love you, but I don’t deserve you,” he whispered softly into her hair.

Will felt rather than heard her giggle and, when she tilted her head back, he could see that the teasing sparkle was back in her eyes.

“Oh come now, sir—I have not the saintly patience of Jane. It’s just that I am accustomed to being housebound every winter with my mother and four sisters, not to mention my dear father whose sarcasm reaches new heights when trapped in a house with five women for days on end. ”

He kissed her forehead. “I’ve never known myself to be so irritable before… but perhaps that’s because it’s usually only Georgiana and myself and we are both so quiet.” Observing that his wife’s expression had changed to a smirk, he added, “Yet I see by your expression that you do not agree.”

Trying to mimic his baritone, Elizabeth intoned, “Do you mean to say, sir, that you are usually in humor to give consequence to young ladies who are slighted by other men?” She began to laugh outright as Fitzwilliam blushed.

Shutting his eyes, he tucked her head back under his chin. She felt his groan eventually dissolve into a chuckle. “I don’t suppose I’ll ever be free from that old chestnut.”

Smiling up at him, Lizzy laced her hands behind his neck. “Well, I try not to bring it up so very often that it becomes an old chestnut as you term it… for surely it would lose its power if I did.”

He could never resist her. Leaning over to touch his forehead to hers, he murmured, “I am forever under your power, my lady.”

She gave him a quick kiss. “And I shall always love you, no matter how much of a big, grouchy bear you become!” Her laughter rang out like silver bells across the winter landscape before Will brought his own mouth down for a longer, warmer kiss.

When it eventually ended, Lizzy laid her cheek against his chest again and let out a long sigh.

“Oh Will, I’m so very, very tired of having house guests,” she moaned, even as she could feel a chuckle begin deep in his chest.

“My dear, I believe that’s supposed to be my line.”

Elizabeth groaned. “Even Jane is getting on my nerves with her constant serenity. Just this morning I had to leave the room before I snapped at her.” She sighed into the warmth of his coat, then tilted her head up so she could look into his eyes.

“She was attempting to explain why she doesn’t really mind our mother’s daily visits to Netherfield.

Did you know that Mama often brings Kitty and Mary and then treats the servants as if they were her own, inviting our Aunt Phillips or some of the other neighborhood ladies for tea without even consulting Jane? ”

“Charles mentioned something along those lines.”

Lizzy grinned up at him. “I fear I must revise my previous opinion.” At his raised eyebrow, she explained, “Fifty miles of good road is not nearly far enough away from her parents’ house for a young lady to settle.” Together they laughed at her corruption of their conversation at Rosings .

“I don’t suppose that we could claim some tenant emergency and abscond to an inn for a day or two.”

“Most of our guests will leave the day after tomorrow… and Pemberley is a very large house.”

“And my mother has catalogued all of it!”

“Perhaps she might compare hers against the one Miss Bingley has made.”