The Dignity of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy by Valerie Lennox

If Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy hadn’t seen Miss Elizabeth Bennet by chance at a theater in London on the eve before she was about to embark to Kent to visit Hunsford, he never would have offered to convey her in his own carriage. Then the carriage would never have overturned, and they would never have sought help, and they would never have ended up set upon by bandits, huddling together in the cold, Mr. Darcy with a gunshot wound from protecting Elizabeth.

But since that did happen, and since Mr. Darcy’s aunt Lady Matlock set tongues wagging about Elizabeth’s reputation, it’s only honorable that he marry her.
Elizabeth accepts. It’s a choice between marriage to wealthy, respected man and ruin. She is not a particularly stupid woman, after all.
However, she knows, deep down, that marrying her is a mark against his dignity. She knows men like Mr. Darcy don’t fall in love with women like her.
And that’s all right with her. There are worse things than a companionable marriage with a man who is cordial to her, after all. True, he has never visited her bed, but perhaps she’s rather relieved about that. There are many, many worse things than her life as Mrs. Darcy. She refuses to be displeased with it.

Dear reader, though this version starts out with violence and fear and bandits, I believe it’s actually one of my lighter offerings. I wanted to write about a very honorable Mr. Darcy, who holds back his passion for his wife because he feels she’s been through too much already. But eventually, yes, they succumb, of course. Anyway, this is as low-angst as I get. There are puppies. Enjoy!