Part 1

Elizabeth watched her husband sleeping peacefully beside her in the master bed. His curls were endearingly tousled and one arm spread possesively around Elizabeth's waist. He looked so helpless, so utterly vulnerable. Elizabeth grinned wickedly.

Ever so gently she removed his arm and slid gracefully from his grasp. Darcy's arms tightened around empty space, he moaned in his sleep, groping and twisting until finally with a resounding crash, he plummeted to the ground. Elizabeth laughed mischievously whilst Darcy, dazed, rubbed his head.

"Elizabeth," he groaned. "Must you wake me in this fashion?"

Elizabeth threw herself on top of him and kissed him passionately. "This, my dear Darcy, is a declaration of war."

Darcy raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Oh? Should I be watching my back?" He tugged gently on one of Elizabeth's curls as he returned her kiss.

Elizabeth allowed herself to be guided back to the bed. To her surprise, however, she found that with a few deft movements, Darcy had wrapped her in the blanket like a sausage. Her arms trapped at her sides she could only thrash and curse as Darcy nonchalantly said, "Challenge accepted." Grinning at Elizabeth's writhing form he said, "Breakfast awaits," and strode from the room. "Did you sleep well Elizabeth?" asked Georgiana innocently after Elizabeth at last joined them at the table. "You look a little flushed."

"Only a nightmare," returned Elizabeth, her smile at Darcy promising revenge. Darcy raised his sausage to her in mock salute.

After breakfast, Elizabeth retired into the morning room to plan her strategy, something so daring it would shock Darcy to the core. At last she smiled triumphantly and ran outside to take her morning walk to Darcy's favorite haunt: the secluded pond. Gingerly she removed her shoes and overcoat, until clad only in her chemise she waded into the pond to await Darcy's arrival. The water was refreshing and she amused herself by paddling among the reeds, when she heard the tread of approaching footsteps. With a resounding battle cry she whirled, releasing a wave of water which hit Darcy squarely in the face. At least she thought it was Darcy until a flabbergasted exclamation revealed it to be Mr. Collins. Elizabeth stared, shocked beat red. Mr. Collins stared at the near naked Elizabeth in horror until covering his face with his hands began to apologize profusely,

"My dear cousin, please forgive my interruption of your...bath. I offer my most abject apologies for intruding thus upon your privacy.."

"ELIZABETH?" Darcy rounded the corner and took in the scene. Elizabeth could easily perceive he was furious.

Part 2

Mr. Collins rushed to grovel before Mr. Darcy's feet. "My dear sir, may I offer my warmest salutations. I am so pleased to see you and your bride in such excellent health. Indeed I am exceedingly impressed with the splendor of your beautiful grounds....."

Darcy glared over the humbly bent figure kneeling at his feet at Elizabeth who was calmly shaking the pond scum from her hair. Inwardly, she was seething from humiliation. Of all the rotten luck that Mr. Collins should arrive at this moment and uninvited too. Was there no end to this man's irritating nature? Lady Catherine now had another reproach to torment her with. Judging by the look in Darcy's eye she thought it best to beat a hasty retreat. Hopefully Mr. Collins would hinder any attempt of Darcy to intercept her. No such luck. As she slipped into the dense wood, Darcy abruptly left Mr. Collins, who was still uttering praises of every kind on the banks of the pond.

"Elizabeth!" he thundered, grasping her arm as soon as Mr. Collins was out of sight. He glowered at her. It rankled him that another man had seen his Elizabeth nearly naked. The fact that the man was Mr. Collins, spy to Lady Catherine and a former suitor, was unbearable. "What where you thinking, swimming in the pond and in such revealing attire? This conduct does not become the mistress of Pemberley."

Elizabeth, more than a little ashamed of herself, lashed out in self-defense. "The only reason you find my behavior so objectionable is because there was a witness to it. Mr. Collins having seen me is wretched to be sure, but I do not care what he or anyone else thinks."

Darcy's glower deepened. It worried him that something might have happened by her taking such a foolish risk. After all, she might have drowned. That thought decided the matter. Her independence must be checked.

"I hope very much you care what your husband thinks. On reflection, it doesn't matter if you care as long as you obey. I forbid any further swimming excursions. Better yet, I order you to stay in the house until further notice. At least there I'll be able to keep an eye on you."

"WHAT?" Elizabeth's bright eyes grew brighter still, flashing lightening bolts at her husband. "Am I to be locked in my room like a disobedient child?" Her wet curls bounced in wild defiance as she wrenched her dripping arm from Darcy's grasp. Her defiance in the face of his concern for her welfare spurred Darcy to greater anger still. She was his wife and she would damn well behave.

"As long as you are acting like a child, you will be treated as such." He snatched her arm once again and violently pulled her towards the house. There he met with Mrs. Reynolds and ordered her to take Mrs. Darcy upstairs. "Why she looks as if she was caught in a rainstorm," exclaimed the alarmed housekeeper.

"An unfortunate accident by the pond." Darcy still looked angrily at Elizabeth. "Elizabeth will retire early. Please take her to her room."

Mrs. Reynolds ducked her head to hide her smile, as Elizabeth proudly marched up the stairs, leaving a small puddle on each step.

Once under lock and key, Elizabeth brooded. Darcy had been most unfair and cruel. If he thought she would obey his commands, he was sadly mistaken. She surveyed the room for a means of escape. She smiled in satisfaction as she began to knot her bed sheets together......

Part 3

Elizabeth paused as she studied the drop from her bedroom window. It was steeper than she had anticipated. On that note, she couldn't help but reflect how very improper her scaling the walls of the house really was. Though opinionated and fiercely independent, Elizabeth had never done anything truly reprehensible. There was enough of that in the family as it was. And she didn't want to lose Darcy's respect. He mattered so much to her, it would shatter her soul to lose his love and esteem.

Yet his close minded and dictatorial behavior irked her. If she surrendered to his will now, who knew how many restrictions he would place on her in the future. No, she valued her freedom of spirit and intended for it to remain that way. Darcy had known her untamable spirit when he married her, and he must learn to cope with it.

With a decided shake, Elizabeth flung her knotted "rope" over the windowsill and watched it rest in the flower patch opposite the sitting room window. Ever so carefully she began her descent.

Darcy sat with Georgiana in the sitting room listening to Mr. Collins's endless reflections on the furniture and comparisons to that of Rosings. He had begun to regret his harsh behavior towards Elizabeth. He loved her spunk and independence. Had he found her alone in the pond, wet and lithe like a wood nymph in a mythical forest, he doubted his behavior would be the same. He still remembered the translucence of her soaked gown against her fair skin, every familiar curve and perfection perfectly illuminated. The fragileness of her form sharply contrasted the determination and strength of her gaze, her defiant stance as she dared him to attempt to control her. Never had she looked more like..... Elizabeth. She never ceased to amaze and arouse him. It was almost unearthly. After tea he would release her and attempt to mollify her by taking her on a nocturnal swim. He could already picture her moving towards him underwater, her arms outstretched, her hair streaming behind her like a mermaid.

His reverie was interrupted by the sharp clatter of Georgiana's tea cup, who sat opposite him on the sofa. He made a move to hasten to her side but was intercepted by Mr. Collins.

"Pray tell me Mr. Darcy, when we can expect to see you in Kent next. Lady Catherine urged me to tell you it was your duty to call on your cousin Miss Anne. Family obligations require that you visit Rosings at least every six months. Indeed your visit is sadly overdue."

Meanwhile Elizabeth was hanging suspended in front of the sitting room. She gasped as she realized it was occupied. She could make out the back of Darcy's head and the balding one of Mr. Collins. She met the shocked gazed of Georgiana, who dropped her tea cup in alarm. Desperately, Elizabeth pressed a finger against her lips indicating silence, pleading with her eyes that Georgiana distract the company until she landed on the ground. Georgiana hesitated, for she hated deceiving her beloved brother, but then gave an almost imperceptible nod. With a sigh of relief, Elizabeth hastily dropped to the ground. She threw the suspended sheet through her open window to hide all signs of her escape then casually strolled toward the stables. She had been working on her horsemanship to surprise Darcy, who loved to ride, and she believed it prudent not to be in close proximity, when Darcy discovered her escape.

Part 4

Comfortably seated on her favorite horse, Elizabeth streaked through the woods at a gallop. Panting from the exertion, the horse followed the narrow curves and angles of the footpath. Never fully tamed and with a wild streak, the brilliant white animal reminded Elizabeth of the horse which pulled Apollo's chariot through the heaven. She fancied herself a sort of earth-bound Apollo and spurred her horse to an even greater speed. A crack of thunder made Zeus's displeasure known. Elizabeth jerked, surprised. Had she not noticed the darkening sky in her haste to escape from the house? She pulled the reins, intending to head back towards the stables, but the frightened horse stubbornly refused. It jumped a ridge at even greater gallop. Elizabeth, clinging like a burr to the mane cried out as a strand of hair now blown free caught in an overhanging tree. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

"Elizabeth?" Darcy was amazed how quiet Elizabeth had been in her confinement. He half expected her to be waiting beside the door with a blunt object to hit him with. He always enjoyed their wrestling matches. But no, the room was empty, curtains billowing wildly about the open window. Open window? A pile of knotted sheets on the floor of the room confirmed his suspicions. "Damn," he should have known she wouldn't stay put. And now she had escaped under his very nose. He couldn't suppress a smirk at her audacity. She must have dangled in front of the window of the very room he had been sitting in. He could almost hear Elizabeth laughing at him, one eye lifted in a subtle challenge, her eyes glowing in their luminescence. Darcy shivered. How would he be able to wait for her return? A clap of thunder interrupted his thoughts and instilled a restlessness, the same uneasiness he always felt when he didn't know Elizabeth's exact whereabouts. Where could she be in such bad weather. As he jogged out towards the gardens, thick droplets of rain thrown violently by the wind stung his face and eyes. A stable boy called out to him, "Master! Mrs. Darcy she's out riding." He trailed off in worry. Darcy understood the feeling. "Saddle my horse!" he ordered.

"Insufferable, animal why won't you stop?" Elizabeth cursed at her horse, blinking to clear the water from her eyes. Even at a full gallop, Elizabeth realized they must be far outside the Pemberley grounds. She couldn't recognized a thing. Abruptly, the horse careened to a stop. Elizabeth slid from the saddle, relieved the rollicky ride was over at last. As soon as her feet touched the ground, however, the horse retraced it's steps toward Pemberley. "Wait you stupid beast. Come back." Her cry of frustration was stilled by a rough hand grasping her throat.

Part 5

"What have we here," a rough hand squeezed, rancid breath welling against her cheek.

Elizabeth almost gagged. Was there no end to her bad luck? Gathering her strength she sharply jabbed her elbow into his stomach. With a gasp of breath the vagrant released her as Elizabeth hurriedly grabbed a sharp stick at feet. She grinned in anticipation. Finally the fencing instructions she had witnessed would pay off. A series of sharp thrusts brought the man to his knees. Her own personal improvisation, a deft kick in the groin reduced him to a whimpering mass. Elizabeth could barely maintain her glee. Obviously she showed talent in this sport. Perhaps Darcy could be persuaded to teach her? Thoughts of Darcy brought to mind the question of her whereabouts. How was she ever to return to Pemberley? "Pray tell me, sir, which direction is Pemberley?" inquired Elizabeth sweetly of the prostrate figure at her feet.

"Twelve miles. West. Please don't hit me again miss," whimpered the victim.

"Twelve miles?" The horse must have galloped further than she thought. It was already nightfall and bad weather besides. Darcy must be anxious....

"I'm bleeding miss!" shrieked the man, wildly gesturing towards a slight cut on his forearm.

Elizabeth sniffed disdainfully. "Hold still!" She ripped her overcoat into strips and securely fastened one around the wound. A fragile piece of cloth did nothing to shield her from the torrents anyhow. Ladies clothing was most ineffective in that respect. She would have to discuss that with Darcy. With a sigh she looked towards Pemberley. Though universally reckoned a good walker, this was to be quite a journey.

Darcy pulled his horse to a stop in front of the Pemberley stables. He had found no trace of Elizabeth on the Pemberley grounds. He only hoped that she managed to find her way back to the house in his absence. Twisting his ring in anxiety he anxiously questioned Mrs. Reynolds, "Has Mrs. Darcy returned?"

Mrs. Reynolds worriedly shook. "No Master. Though the stable boy did say a riderless horse was found not half an hour ago. He says it was Mrs. Darcy's"

"But Elizabeth does not ride. Good Lord what if she took a fall." Darcy turned ashen at this prospect. Never, never would he let her out of his sight again.

Part 6

"Fitzwilliam?" Georgiana tugged timidly on his sleeve.

"Georgiana? What is the matter?" Darcy glanced at her distractedly, forehead lined in worry. A sob from his sister attracted his full attention.

"Oh brother. Elizabeth.... This is all my fault. I should have spoken. I could have prevented..."

"Georgiana." Darcy grasped her shoulders urgently. "What do you know? You must tell me!"

Georgiana shriveled before her brother's disapproval. "I saw Elizabeth suspended from the sitting room window. I should have told you. I should have alerted you. This is the second time I have failed you. Oh, brother, can you forgive me?"

Darcy gathered his tearful sister in his arms. "Georgiana, I could never blame you. The fault is purely my own. I was the one who drove her away, I was the one who lost my temper. I should be the one asking for forgiveness." Emotionally exhausted, Darcy collapsed on the sofa. Elizabeth's scent wafted through the air. Cinnamon? It was a question Darcy had contemplated before. Outside the weather raged, violent and restless. Much like Darcy felt. He'd had enough. Abruptly he strode into the stormy night.

Elizabeth shivered. The makeshift shelter she constructed offered little comfort. Nor did the damp wood catch fire easily. Elizabeth stamped her foot, discouraged. The life of a gypsy was not as romantic as she had imagined. In fact, it was rather dreary. If only Darcy were here, he would keep her warm, not only in body but in spirit. Darcy.... The depth of her love for him always amazed her no matter how many times she contemplated it. She could almost picture him with her in this latest escapade, shielding her body with his own. She imagined reaching out to touch him, teasing him by remarking how his marital duties included acting as a rain deterrent. A sudden chill cooled her fantasies. Insufferable fire. If only... In a flash of inspiration, Elizabeth tore off her soaked dress and shed her corset and petticoat, and threw the two latter into the fire. The starched material burned quickly. Elizabeth breathed deeply as she watched the hated objects burn. How liberating!

Darcy saddled Elizabeth's horse. Hopefully the animal would retrace it's steps. Pemberley was surrounded by nearly uninhabited woodland in three directions. Elizabeth could be in any of them. A sharp slap of the riding crop and white horse streaked through the woods. Darcy passed grove after grove until a faint flicker caught his attention. Was it her? Cautiously he dismounted and trod silently through the wet foliage. To his dismay, the figure at the fire was male, dirty with the look of a thief. A strip of cloth caught his attention. The pattern seemed familiar. Good Lord it belonged to Elizabeth he was sure of it. For a moment he felt physically ill. What had this demon done to his wife? Trembling, Darcy vowed for revenge, raising his riding crop in salute to the heavens.

With a shout he stormed the unsuspecting vagrant. "What have you done with her you bastard? What have you done to my wife?" His riding crop dealt fierce blows to the man's head and shoulders.

"Stop stop!" the man whimpered trying desperately to shield his face from the fierce blows. "If you mean the she-devil from Pemberley, I didn't hurt her none, I swear. It was her that wounded me with her infernal stick."

Abruptly the blows ceased. Darcy stared in surprise. "She beat you with a stick?" he inquired incredulously.

The vagrant sniffled. "Had she been fencing with a sword I'd have been a goner. The hell cat nearly beat me to death 'fore she returned to the devil."

"Which direction did she go?" Darcy raised his crop threateningly. The abused vagrant collapsed.

"West. Towards Pemberley."

With a parting wallop, Darcy vanished in the darkness. The vagrant lay motionless on the ground until the hoof beats faded. Pemberley must be the spawn of the devil he decided. A detour around the estate would be necessary to ensure his survival.

Darcy grinned with pride. His Elizabeth defended herself against a man more than twice her size. She was quite a warrior. Of course he had known that all along. After all, he was in retreat since the first day he met her.

Part 7 -- Conclusion

Darcy's horse snorted in impatience. The rain had ceased but a dampness still smothered the night air. Darcy wearily ran his hand across his forehead. Where could Elizabeth be? If only he'd brought his pointer Mollie to track her. Now there was a novel idea. A dog specially attuned to the scent of his wife to rescue her from escapades like this one. He must suggest it to Elizabeth. No, he mused, she would never agree. He must be more sly about it.....

The flicker of a fire weakly penetrated the gloom. Darcy jerked on the reins and flung himself from the saddle. Elizabeth slumbered at the fires edge. Nearly naked, her damp hair sprinkled with leaves, and twigs blanketed her back and shoulders. Her hand lay open clutching the loose, fragrant earth as a sort of comfort. Darcy eyed the fire puzzled. Did he spy the remains of a corset?

Loath to wake her, he lifted her fragile body, wedging it securely against his chest. She grunted licked her lips and shifted closer to the unexpected heat source. Almost unconsciously, Darcy's arms tightened. He hoisted her across the saddle, mounting behind her and securing her body with his free arm. She did not wake as he had expected. The rocking movement of the horse's canter merely deepened her sleep.

With a sigh of relief and exhaustion he spotted Pemberley House around the corner. Leaving the horse to graze by the meadow, Darcy eased Elizabeth from the saddle and carried her to their bedchamber. She emitted a small unladylike snore. With a smile he grasped her remaining sodden clothes and peeled them from her body. Gathering her familiar form into his arms he fell into a deep sleep.

A sharp object jabbed his ribs.

"What? Who?" Darcy sputtered, jerking awake.

"You forgot when and where," a familiar voice laugh as he struggled to shake his sleepiness. Another sharp prod with his riding crop fully transported him to the realm of the living.

"Elizabeth," he groaned. "Why must marriage to you be such a battle?"

"Any marriage is a battle." Elizabeth hopped merrily from one foot to the other. "Ours is just more physical than most." She straightened her stance and extended the crop.

"On guard, sir, on guard. I believe I possess a talent for fencing. You are to receive the honor of being my first victim."

"Correction, my lady, your second victim." Darcy groped for his spare riding crop under the bed, remembering the unfortunate vagrant in the woods. Playfully she poked his unprotected backside.

"Hasn't anyone informed you, sir, never to turn your back on the enemy?"

Darcy raised his crop to block her thrust. "You didn't warn me to be on my guard," he admonished.

"I have warned you once," countered Elizabeth parrying.

A few blows later, Darcy stood victorious.

"Surrender," he ordered. Elizabeth sulked, then looked pensive.

"I offer a conditional surrender."

"And what is your condition?"

"That you in turn surrender to me."

"Done." Darcy lowered his crop and gathered Elizabeth to his chest in a passionate embrace.

Elizabeth impishly maneuvered him towards the bed.

"Let us seal the bargain," she said, smiling invitingly.

The End