Hello Pride and Prejudice fans :)

So I watched Death Comes to Pemberley (three episode series based off of PD James' novel) just about one year ago. Scribbled down this little idea a few months later and slowly slowly wrote it all out. :) Just a few days ago I sat down and thought you know what? I am going to finally finish this right now. And I did x)

Anyway, on with it.

One-shot! Enjoy!

Elizabeth stretched a bit and turned over, resting her hand on her husband's warm skin. Instead, she opened her eyes at feeling the cold bedsheets. "Darcy?"

The ordeal with Wickham was over - he was no longer needed at all hours of the night. Where could he possibly-

She caught sight of his form in the dull firelight, and she sat up. "Darcy."

He didn't turn nor had he made any sign that he had heard her.

She stood from the bed, wrapping her robe around her shoulders. Quietly, she approached him.

The firelight flickered, simultaneously shadowing and lighting his solemn and troubled face. His eyes were trained on the flame, empty and unfeeling yet deep in thought. His shoulders were tense and his back was rigid - he seemed to be in a daze.

She gently touched his shoulder. "Are you alright?"

Her soft voice floated into his ears but his eyes remained focused on the hearth. His own voice was raspy and thick when he spoke, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." He turned his head slightly and saw her out of the corner of his eye. His mouth twitched some. "Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

Sometimes his answers weren't enough to satisfy her. She gave a small sigh. "Darcy," she said carefully, knowing that her soft voice would coax some words out of him.

And he could not lie to her. "The way I treated you," he began guiltily "through this whole matter. I put all that pressure on you- and you were- in your condition-"

"It was nothing I couldn't handle," she tried to get across. She hated to see him hurting over something that was out of his control. "And we got through it."

Regret still covered his features. "But still, I shouldn't have. You must know I would never-"

Her gentle touch through his short curly hair and over his scalp quieted him. She replied with all her heart, "I do."

He gave her a small smile and relished in the feeling of her closeness. Then he pulled back a bit and quirked, "I thought we didn't keep secrets."

"It wasn't much of a secret as it was supposed to be a surprise," she admitted quietly.

"Surprise?" he asked, quite surprised.

"I was going to tell you the night of the Lady Anne ball," she admitted. "After our guests had retired."

He let out a throaty breath, one filled with regret. "Then Lydia showed up."

She tried to bring him back into the present. She ran her hands up and down his arms. "Well it's done now. All we can do now is move forward."

He met her eyes then - searching her blues, searching for honesty and truth. "Do you truly forgive me, Elizabeth?"

The corners of her mouth quirked upward fondly and she ran her finger along the side of his face tenderly. "Of course I do. You've done me no wrong, Fitzwilliam."

His eyes softened and he settled his clasped hands on the small of her back. He tried to forgive himself for how he had acted. She was right - they had their future to look forward to...

Perhaps a little girl with blue eyes and curly hair bounding about the castle with her brother would be in this future.

He felt his heart pull at the thought. "I truly do not deserve you, my love," he spoke deeply.

"Oh, Darcy," she smiled softly. "I love you. So much."

He traced the length of her face with a careful finger. "As do I, my Elizabeth."