Reclaiming His Wife: A Pride & Prejudice Sensual Variation by Penelope Mason

Author:Penelope Mason
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Kidnapping, Pride and Prejudice & Related Fandoms, Read, Amnesia, Purchased, Naughty Bits (aka PWP)
Publisher: Longbourn Lady
Published: 2022-07-04T04:00:00+00:00

“Enjoy my day?” Elizabeth turned back to him, the brimming anger she had attempted to keep a lid on all day finally spilling over.

She had this life, this seemingly perfect life, and she could not enjoy it. A handsome, kind husband who desired her and treated her with perfect courtesy. A darling sister-in-law. A beautiful home and wealth beyond her dreams. . .if she could remember her girlhood dreams.

This fairy tale life, but she could not enjoy it, because it did not feel like it belonged to her.

And she felt so ungrateful, so petty and petulant for not simply counting her good fortune with a smile and embracing the privilege of her position.

She certainly could not take her frustration and temper out on Mrs. Martin or Georgiana; neither of them deserved her ire or were responsible for her current predicament. To be fair, neither was Darcy responsible. Even if he had failed to protect her, he had done everything in his power to find her and bring her home. She knew this, just as well as she knew that her injury and kidnapping was not his fault.

But after a week living with him, she knew he was safe. He was a gentleman, though stern and reserved, and he would not beat her nor verbally castigate her.

So unfortunately for him, he was the one who must endure the brunt of her poor mood.

Her husband looked at her, the edge in his devilish smirk fading. “Yes,” he said in a quieter tone. “It's my hope that you do enjoy your day.”

“As if nothing has happened, as if nothing is wrong?” Elizabeth gave a short, bitter laugh. “As if I have not just recalled that at one point, I utterly disdained the man who I eventually married.” She blinked away tears, impatient with herself.

He was silent for a moment. “I do not really know what to say to you, Elizabeth. I don't know what comfort to offer you when you have already rejected my admittedly paltry attempts.”

“I don't want comfort!” she cried. “I want my memories. I want this to make sense.”

He reached for her, and she evaded him, ducking under the length of his arm and darting towards the middle of the study. She turned, hands pressed against her middle as he slowly pivoted to face her but did not further approach.

“Do you know that memory was my first glimpse of home?”

A glimmer of sudden understanding flashed in his eyes.

“My first glimpse of who I must have been. I don't know who my mother is, Darcy. I don't know my father or my sisters though I'm told I have them. I don't know what my bedroom looks like or the little treasures I must have collected through my childhood. I don't know the shape of the paths I must have walked a thousand times, or the feel of them underneath my feet. And that memory, of your frigid disdain, is the only glimpse I have of home, of us.”

Darcy closed his eyes for a minute, opened them again.

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