Page 92 of Twice Chosen

"I told you."

"You told me fifty years from now."

"Details."

"It will eventually become diseased."

Elizabeth put a hand protectively against the trunk. "Do not threaten it on the day you mean to propose."

Darcy turned toward her.

The humor left his face so completely that Elizabeth's own smile faded.

"William."

"Do not."

"You have done this before."

"Badly."

"Then the standard is low."

He took her hand.

Elizabeth expected him to smile.

He did not.

"Elizabeth, I loved the life we had."

Her eyes filled immediately.

Darcy's fingers tightened around hers. "But I do not want you because you were my wife."

She stopped breathing.

"I want you because you are Elizabeth. Here. Now. Twenty years old and irritating me in entirely new ways."

A tear escaped down her cheek.

Darcy brushed it away with his thumb. "I want the woman you became and the woman you are, even if she becomes differently this time."

His voice roughened.

"I cannot promise we will have the same children."

Elizabeth's breath broke.

There it was. The fear they had carried without naming too often.

Darcy continued, "I cannot promise the same years, the same friends, the same rooms, or the same griefs. I cannot promise anything except that I choose you without knowing any of it."

Elizabeth touched his face.

"Ask me."

Darcy drew a breath. "Elizabeth Bennet, will you marry me?"