Though most of us have always seen Mr Darcy as a character of extreme stability, there are hints in Pride and Prejudice that he is in fact a very feeling man, who is merely very adept at controlling his emotions to the point of seeming almost free of them. Reading those rare sentences, sometimes mere words, I always tried to envision how the unfortunate events at Hunsford Parsonage must have affected him. Then one day I was inspired to write them down, starting this story. 
And now you see before you the wholly-revised second edition of Revelations. To improve your reading experience, the story has been re-written in the past tense, it has been split in two parts, several remaining anachronisms have been removed, and the love-scenes (not before they're married, of course!) have been toned down considerably. 
Revelations started out as a serial with a weekly update and is about as exciting as most people's normal lives, meaning not very. It is mainly enjoyable for readers who like to drown in the feelings of their favourite characters, and not just Darcy and Elizabeth, Georgiana finally gets her share of the action, too, and some real character. Mr Bennet, Mr Collins, Lady Catherine and all the other secondary personages already in possession of a distinctive personality remain true to their character when they make their appearances. Other personages of my own devising will unavoidably start entering the story from the moment the newly-weds arrive at Pemberley. Their role is still limited in this first part of Revelations, in the second and third part they will gain an ever larger influence on the main characters' lives. 
Despite my admiration for Jane Austen I am nothing like her, which means in my story servants, children, feelings, women's place in society, sexuality and other important facts of daily life are given some attention. You can try the first chapters for free to see whether this story is for you. Please refrain from (inadvertently) placing spoilers in the reviews. 

Darcy carefully closed the front door of the parsonage behind him, he had been humiliated enough, he was not going to add to his shame by slamming it with the anger he felt. For anger was the feeling foremost on his mind, as he legged it through the little garden of the parsonage, across the road into Rosings Park. 
Didn't he have every right to be angry? Hadn't he been made a total fool of by a very young lady who was very much beneath him? She had been playing with his feelings for months, flirting shamelessly, whipping up the flame of his ardour with her witty remarks to his friends and his cousin, and her veiled allusions to himself. 
'This is one of my favourite haunts, Mr Darcy,' her very words, weren't they an invitation to meet her in the park, one he took her up on like she wanted him to, nearly sick with love and anticipation each time? Hadn't he met her there as often as he dared, keeping himself from going every day with the utmost discipline, afraid of her forming expectations of him before he was ready to commit himself, his reason still so much at discord with his feelings? How dared she encourage him if she didn't want him, despised him, actually?