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Lizzy tucked away the errant strands of her coif with a sigh.

In the reflection of the mirror, Darcy observed her from the lounge.

The bride and groom, Jane and Bingley, were gone from Netherfield and off to Paris.

Lizzy and Darcy were alone at Netherfield, save the servants, for at least for a few more days.

It was oddly empty and silent after the hubbub of the wedding.

Lizzy smiled at her husband, who met her gaze, but had that pensive look that usually meant a storm was brewing.

“ Beautiful wedding, don’t you think?” Lizzy attempted to break the silence. She laid her hat on the dressing table, and its brim nearly covered it. She turned to Darcy, who didn’t reply.

“ Hm?” He seemed so lost to thought. “What? Oh yes, of course. Beautiful.”

“ It was a shame Lydia couldn’t be here.

” She continued talking, needing to draw him out.

He was brooding again. “Imagine going back to America so soon. Still, Jane looked so lovely. Stunning even. That train… it must have been ten yards of silk, her sleeves covered in lace… and the flowers. When she handed me that bouquet, I thought I might not be able to lift it, it was so heavy…”

Finally, he spoke. “Not like that puny bouquet you held in New York.”

So that was it. His pride in his ability to give her only the best was pricked by this lavish ceremony of his best friend and her sister.

Darcy and she had only been married a few weeks, but this was not the first time his mood shifted from day to night unexpectedly.

It appeared to her to occur especially when he seemed to be the most content. He looked miserable.

“ It wasn’t puny,” she said gently. “I loved it. The fact that Mr Moretti thought to pick those flowers for me, a stranger…”

“ Really?” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Really, Lizzy? Be honest. We can hold a wedding just like that one, better if you like—”

“ Were you unhappy with ours?”

He got to his feet and took her hands in his. “No, no, of course not. That was the most, I don’t know, beautiful day of my life: the white church streaming with sunlight…”

“… that kind Mr Sullivan taking in the lost travellers. I wouldn’t trade that day for ten weddings just like this one. It was perfect for Jane and Charles… but not for us.”

“ No, not for us…” He kissed her, and she leaned against him, her cheek upon the crisp starch of his white shirt. It was all right. Everything was going to be all right.

“ I’d like to leave for Pemberley tomorrow. There is nothing keeping us here. I’d like to finally take you home.”

She smiled and closed her eyes briefly. “Of course.” Home. Pemberley in all its grandness was now to be her home.

***

Darcy’s chauffeur met them at the station, and Lizzy sat in the rear seat of the Pierce-Arrow for the short ride to the manor house. She knew Darcy well enough by now. His calm and nearly immobile aspect didn’t fool her. He needed to be home, and to show his legacy: his grand estate.

The Pierce-Arrow moved through a stand of trees onto open fields and beyond that, anchored in the manicured lawns, stood a fine Georgian manor house. To Lizzy it looked rather like a painting, standing on a slope, its white stone set off by the greenery of the trees behind it.

“ That, my love… is Pemberley.” Darcy pointed out the window.

“There used to be a stream running in front, but we dammed it up and diverted it to the farmland some years ago. There is a small lake not far from the house…” She was listening, but not listening as it suddenly occurred to her that she could have teased him over how, if he’d shown her this magnificent manor with all its lands, he might have persuaded her to marry him sooner.

Listening to the earnestness in his voice that matched the glow of pride in his eyes, she thought better of it.

He was a brooder by nature, and some stupid, casual remark made only in jest might weigh on him for all their married life.

“ What are you smiling about?”

“ Oh… I’m just happy.” She squeezed his arm.

They reached the circular drive and stopped before the stone steps that led to the front door of Pemberley. After they exited the motor, she held him back while she drank in the splendour of this place. He took her hand.

“ Welcome home, Mrs Darcy.”