Mr Darcy's Bride

1. Pemberley Estate

The main entrance hall of Pemberley Estate was glistening in the warm April sunshine. The light bounced off the gold ornate frames that surrounded the tall magnificent paintings opposite the windows, the large figures draped in cloth looked as if they were gazing down at Elizabeth Darcy in intrigue, and it would not surprise her if they suddenly started whispering, confused by her presence.

A light fresh breeze could be felt flowing through the hall, slightly disturbing the heavy jaquard curtains, their hems jostling. Lizzie stood in the middle of the hallway, deaf to the neighs of the horses that had pulled the carriage she arrived in.

The halls grand staircase intimidated Lizzie, and she pondered that if she looked down at the mirror like tiled floor, she would almost certainly see a nervous face looking back at her. "My god," she thought to herself, "all this to be mine, no is mine."

Though she had already been to Pemberley before, it was still impressive in its grandeur, overwhelming even. Lizzie wondered if she would ever get use to it, or if even after a simple stroll of the garden on a random afternoon, she would still feel this dizzy when gazing on Pemberley's beauty.

She felt a hand graze her shoulder and Mr Darcy appeared by her side. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight, like exploding stars. Forget finding normality in the splendor of Pemberley, his eyes will always make Lizzie feel more weak.

"Are you well, Mrs Darcy," he couldn't help but smirk, yet he was genuinely concerned as his brow forrowed quickly after.

"Yes, I just forgot how impressive Pemberley is."

His face softened again, "and this is just the hallway." He gestured towards the stairs and his other hand brushed from Lizzie's shoulder to her waist, his touch light as a feather.

"Mrs Reynolds," he turned back towards the front door, "please see Mrs Darcy's possessions to our quarters, and please ring for some tea to be brought to the parlour."

"Certainly sir, shall I fetch Miss Georgiana Darcy from the music room?"

"No thank you Mrs Reynolds, once I have settled my wife I will fetch my sister myself." He turned back to Lizzie, she was still steadying herself at the idea of being the lady of this esteemed estate.

Mrs Reynolds hurried back outside to instruct the footmen and maids, leaving Mr and Mrs Darcy alone.

Mr Darcy took Lizzie's hands.

"My dear, do not stress. For we have all the time in the world. Soon you will know this place better than the back of your hands. It is your home." Lizzie felt an instant calm as he spoke.

"But sir, you are mistaken for the hands I know best are yours," she brought them to her lips and kissed them gently. "And are you to suggest you'd rather me master this estate than master the rest of you. For I am already familiar with your layout, but I would like to learn of it's secret nooks, before I begin a new project." She kissed his hand again, Mr Darcy let out a low chuckle.

"And are you also to suggest sir, that with all the time in the world, the first thing you have me consume is all of this excessive house, and not prioritise," she lingered for a moment, smirking, "other consumptions."

Lizzie looked up at Mr Darcy, his eyes were fixated on her lips, she heard his breath slow, but his heart beat faster. He leant close.

"Mrs Darcy, the longer we deprive temptation, the more satisfying it becomes." His voice was low and soft, one word in this tone could melt butter. "Plus, before we retire to our quarters, you must do your duty as lady of the house, and give adequate attention to your new sister. A blushing bride has obligations of course." He straightened up and turned towards the staircase.

"Mr Darcy," Lizzie said, still gazing longingly at him. "I will save all my blushing for our private audience later."