Page 45 of The Work of a Moment

“Mmhmm.”

He looked at her dear face, glowing in the light, watching him expectantly.

“Although I struggle not to ruin one lady, much as she deserves it, I find it a much greater battle not to make my feelings known to another, one whom I hold dear, whom I esteem for her courage and wit and beauty.”

Elizabeth blushed an adorable pink, and he swore her hand tightened in his.

“I was inept when I declared myself in Kent, and I fear I will say it less elegantly than you deserve, but you must know the feelings I tried to voice to you there have not changed. If yours have not⁠—”

“Much has changed,” she said, her eyes bright as they met his, “including my feelings for you. While I have judged and misjudged far too many people this past year, I am not mistaken in understanding your worth, nor the strength of my esteem for you.”

She smiled, and everything in him warmed because of her look, the touch of her hand in his, the tenderness in her eyes.

“Elizabeth,” he whispered, joy suffusing him.

Whatever conversation Elizabeth had presumed would commence once the colonel had left the room, she had not imagined it would lead to a profession of mutual affection. She had questions to ask and apologies to offer, yet while she had fumbled for a beginning, Mr Darcy had begun to speak, and from there it had been easy. He had proved braver than she, and now they had reached a precipice. She could hardly think when he whispered, “Elizabeth.”

Her name, said in his deep, hoarse voice, lingered in the air between them. He leant nearer, and his eyes—so often composed and resolute—searched her face.

“Will you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?”

Feeling almost lightheaded, she lifted her hand to his chest, feeling his heart beating with a swiftness that betrayed his anticipation. A smile was not enough to contain her joy, and tears filled her eyes as she gave her reply.

“Yes.”

His lips touched hers, and the kiss was nothing at all like she had imagined. It was far better, an immediate and intimate warmth, tentative and searching, that sent a thrumming through her entire frame. He withdrew slowly, as though compelled more by caution than inclination, before resting his brow against hers. They were, after all, practically alone in his drawing room, with her aunt and sister unaware of where her ‘very long walk in the morning sun’ had taken her.

Dazed with happiness, she sighed. When she moved her head, she found him gazing at her tenderly. “What do you see?” she whispered.

“Everything.”

The next few minutes passed with more feeling rather than words, before a cough from the housekeeper stirred them from their preoccupation.

Elizabeth felt her cheeks heat even more. “I must return to Gracechurch Street now, or my uncle will not allow me to leave my room again.”

“Well, we cannot have that,” he said, kissing her fingers without regard for poor Mrs Tully.

“My aunt may be more sympathetic, but she is too clever not to grow suspicious, particularly after a certain gentleman delivered me a brand-new copy of a book I had supposedly left sitting in the grass.”

“A desperate scheme in order to see you.”

Rising, he helped her to her feet and said he would call for his carriage.

“No,” she said. “I took a hackney here and should return in one.”

Knowing he could not make matters more fraught by insisting she ride in the Darcy carriage, he agreed, most reluctantly.

“You came alone,” he said, his brow creased in concern, “but I shall send a maid with you. Perhaps Nora?”

CHAPTER 33

Assured Felicity

Darcy watched with a combination of relief and impatience the following morning as the carriage carrying Georgiana and Fitzwilliam pulled away. They would be in Surrey by the afternoon, none too soon for his sister, who had squealed with anticipation the prior evening when an express arrived announcing the birth of Lord and Lady Matlock’s first grandchild. Pleased as he was for his cousin and her husband, Darcy was mostly lost in reverie, remembering only the time he had spent with Elizabeth and eagerly anticipating calling on her at Gracechurch Street in a few hours.

She was to be his wife!

Her firm avowals of affection and her kisses were all he required to feel the full happiness of their futures joined together—and it was more than enough to keep him up half the night. Of course, it was not the first restless night he had spent since meeting Elizabeth Bennet.