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“ Yes, yes Charles, yes I will marry you. I too have long known my path through life would not be complete unless I was by your side.” Bingley stood as he heard the words that he had long dreamed of hearing.

“I have loved you for months now, and I knew that Papa had restricted you to waiting until I had experienced some of the Season before declaring yourself, but you are the only one for me, Charles.” It will never be known if his betrothed wanted to say anything more as she was silenced when Bingley’s lips captured hers.

He had intended to pull back, but the taste of her captured his every sense, and when she responded, the kiss fell headlong into passion.

“Though maybe a short betrothal would be best.” She offered shyly, her breathless request making him groan as he tried to collect himself, her heaving breast not helping him find it.

“I will do all in my power to satisfy our needs,” he promised quietly, her tell-tale flush making him take a step back from the temptation she probably was not yet aware she is issuing.

“We should get back before I take that invitation, Franny. I want you far more than I have ever wanted anyone and having to walk away from you will hurt me for many hours tonight.” He watched her eyes to see if she understood his meaning, relieved she obviously did.

“Do not be so sure, Charles. You, at least, have known some form of relief. I need you more,” she promised softly as she waited, her eyes met his to see if he caught her meaning, and was rewarded with a strangled groan as he pulled her in and kissed her again, this time without worrying if he would scare her as he now knew she was aware of passion and want; he was the luckiest man alive that she wanted him as she did.

When he pulled back her eyes were glazed with want and it took some seconds to blink it away.

“A short betrothal, or we could just elope. Right now, the latter is not looking like so bad an option.” He teased to help her calm; grateful it worked when she laughed.

“If they make us wait too long, I will demand you take me to Scotland and damn the scandal,” she agreed playfully, smiling when his laugh filled the study.

“I think we will have a marriage that many hope is ahead of them when they say their vows.” He lifted her hand to kiss it, not trusting himself to bring her much closer or he would kiss her again and they had to be out of time.

Not wanting to take any chances, the ecstatic couple returned to the drawing room.

Words were not required, and they were accosted by two joyous sisters who wished them happiness, the arched brow he received from Louisa adeptly ignored.

Bingley reluctantly took his leave of his betrothed and headed to Bennet House where the Phillips’ were being hosted by the Duke and Duchess.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

As the afternoon sun shone though the partially open curtains in the master’s chambers at Darcy House, those sitting with the patient went silent.

They could see his eyes fluttering in an effort to open.

It had been almost a full day since his fever broke, so his trying to wake up was not unexpected, had, in fact, been prayed for.

Darcy thought that he was dreaming again when he opened his eyes to find that she was sitting opposite him close to his bed.

She was staring at him with her fine, hazel eyes with the green and gold flecks within.

He tried to talk but he could make no sound beyond a croak because his throat was parched.

He watched as the lady that held his heart poured some water into a glass from the pitcher beside his bed, Richard very slowly helped him sit up a little.

He took small sips to avoid getting sick, as Elizabeth held the glass to his lips.

“Oh, my sweet William, welcome back to us,” his mother smiled at him with tears of joy in her eyes. “We were so worried for you, my son, but now that you have woken all will be well.”

“Richard, will you please go inform my sisters and Georgie? She would never forgive us if we do not notify her right away that her brother is awake,” his Aunt Anne requested.

Darcy sipped water from the glass Lady Elizabeth held for him. His mind was foggy, and he was trying to remember what he had dreamt, or heard, or both. “What d-day is it?” he croaked once the water had eased some of the dryness of his tongue and throat.

“It is the sixteenth day of April, William,” his mother informed him.

“You have been in and out of consciousness since the ninth of the month my son.” She answered his questioning look.

The doctor asked the ladies to exit the chamber so he could examine his patient.

A short while later he pronounced Mr. Darcy well on the way to recovery and said to summon him if any further assistance was required.

As the ladies re-entered, he thanked Lady Elizabeth for her help before leaving the room.

Darcy did not have a clue as to what the doctor referred, and before he could ask his sister flew into the room in a blur of blonde hair and skirts.

She was followed at a more sedate pace by his two aunts.

“William,” she exclaimed, “I am so glad that you have awoken.” Georgiana assessed her brother.

“If you want to rest so you do not have to attend your duties, William, there are better ways to achieve your ends rather than getting shot!” she teased him, which was unusual enough to surprise him into a smile, her own reflecting the relief of seeing her brother conscious and coherent again.

As soon as his sister said the word ‘shot’, the events of that day flooded back.

“Elizabeth, you were not harmed?” he asked, his voice gaining some strength due to his concern for his beloved.

He did not notice that she blushed when he used her name, though the three elder sisters gave each other knowing looks.

“No, William. Thanks to you, I was unharmed,” she said. She did not realise that his hand had found one of hers, but when she did, she made no attempt to withdraw it. “You saved my life. If it were not for you, I would have been the one that the bullet would have struck.”

“I could not allow that miscreant to harm the lady…my cousin.” He blushed and cleared his throat. “Where is that blackguard?” he demanded.

“In hell where he deserves to be, I hope,” Lady Catherine spat out with asperity. “Do you remember that the dastard boasted about murdering my brother before Lizzy’s footman ended him?”

“I do remember that; though until now, I was not sure if it was a dream,” he paused to take a few more sips of water as his throat was again getting dry.

He requested, and was told what had happened the day he was shot.

Richard informed him about Wickham’s accomplices and the Spaniard’s , who in fact was Juan Antonio álvarez, upcoming trial.

There was little doubt that he would be found guilty and hung.

Besides his participation in Wickham’s ill-advised scheme, he had been tied to over ten murders and an untold number of lesser crimes.

The one known as Scarface , Victor Withers, was spared for his cooperation, and he and his family had been transported.

The one member of the conspiracy who would have been killed by Wickham’s request and álvarez’s order, Mrs. Karen Younge, had disappeared.

The runners agreed that as she had not broken any laws, it was not worth expending resources to track her.

Darcy opined that she had likely fled to Fowey in Cornwall, where her not-so-secret brother, Clay Younge, operated his smuggling enterprise.

Richard suggested, and Darcy agreed, that they would send some men to locate her and keep watch.

As long as she stayed there and minded her own business, they would leave her alone.

Darcy’s family filled him in on all that had occurred during the sennight that he had been unconscious, and how Elizabeth was one of many who refused to leave him until she knew that he would be well.

His left shoulder was still hurting very much, but Darcy was determined not to take any of the laudanum that the doctor had left for him. He hated the way that it made him feel.

“What did the doctor mean when he thanked Elizabeth for her help?” He asked when he remembered what Bartholomew had said before he exited the room, not missing her renewed blush.

“She saved your life too, William,” Miss Darcy blurted out with the excitement and relief of having her brother awake.

When he looked at Elizabeth with a questioning look, his mother, Georgiana, and his aunts filled him in on the treatment that she had demanded for him when his fever had risen too high.

Her being at Darcy House the whole time had to mean that she felt more for him than as a cousin, or was it only gratitude?

When he began to analyse the way that she related to him, the way that she looked at him before he saved her, it hit him.

She had tender feelings for him prior to his being shot.

“Thank you, Elizabeth,” he said as he squeezed her small hand, which was still ensconced in his hand.

“If I saved your life, William, then we are but even as you saved mine,” she informed him.

As the doctor warned them, Darcy soon became very wary and drifted off to sleep.

He was kissed by his aunts, sister, and mother.

Richard teased him by making as if he was about to kiss his cousin too but instead shook his hand.

Before Elizabeth left, he squeezed her hand again.

“We will talk when you wake, William. Sleep well,” she said as she left his chambers to be replaced by his valet and a nurse.

After she left William’s room, she sought out Lady Anne in her private sitting room where she was embordering a handkerchief for her son.

“Aunt Anne, may I please talk to you before I return to Bennet House?” Elizabeth asked tentatively.