When had he become such an ass? When did the honest affection of a beautiful woman cease being enough for him? He shook his head and gazed out at the sea. He was doing better now, and he would continue to do so.

Hopefully, his Lizzy would escape the trap he had fallen into, one largely of his own making. Firstly in choosing an ill-matched partner, then in behaving badly towards the one he had chosen. He was certain she could love Mr. Darcy if she only let herself. Failing that, they could at least have a solid friendship. That would be a lot better than many had in marriage.

~

When the Darcys arrived at the cottage, it was late in the day and they had been traveling since eleven after touring a castle early that same morning. Elizabeth was dirty, tired, sore, and desperate for a bath. Before she even toured the house she escaped to her room to wash her hair, which hadn’t been scrubbed since they left London six days ago. She was so relieved to see her maid she nearly hugged the woman.

Once her trunk was delivered, she locked the doors to her chamber—she did not want to risk her husband coming in at an inopportune moment—then she slid into the tub. She immediately dunked her head and blew bubbles in the water, inordinately happy to be getting clean. As Sanders washed her hair, she closed her eyes and truly relaxed for the first time in several days. Her courses had finally ceased a few hours ago and she knew she would be spending the evening with her husband, ready or not.

Spending time in a close carriage with him had been an interesting experience. As she feared, they had clashed and suffered awkward moments, but as her father had said, being alone together had forced them to converse on topics they otherwise wouldn’t. She felt they had learned each other a bit better, but she was also slightly weary of his company. Not horribly, as she was admittedly exhausted and cross from her physical state, but she did not know him very well yet and she still felt a little strange being alone with him. They would be married a fortnight tomorrow and that simply wasn’t long enough for her to feel completely at ease, especially since half that time had been spent traveling.

Perhaps it is not Fitzwilliam at all, she thought. Maybe I just need to be alone altogether.