When you were a maid for Mr. Darcy, it had been evident that you both harbored strong feelings for each other, and after months of resistance, you caved one night, succumbing to the pleasure he willingly, gratuitously provided. However, there came a slight hitch.

You got pregnant.

This was no ordinary pregnancy, you knew. This was the heir to Pemberley, to Mr. Darcy's empire, one of the most well-known and wealthy men in England. Afraid of the repercussions, you fled, leaving a bewildered and heartbroken Mr. Darcy to succumb to his scheming aunt's wills.

But a couple of months later, you returned from your home country to England, carrying with you your two-month-old child (you pick the gender). You walked around the market when all of a sudden, you heard voices chatting. You turned, and there he was, Mr. Darcy in his glory, chatting amicably with a few well-dressed men. He had remained unwed, rebuffing all other options of marriage, for his heart, though broken, had always remained with you.

When you turned, your eyes met his.