Page 169 of Honor Requires

“One thing,” he said, his voice low, “may be as I once wished it.”

Elizabeth’s breath caught.

He stepped closer.

“For years,” he said, “I endured a darkness so complete that I believed no light could ever reach me again. There were moments when memory itself became a torment, when the thought of all that had been lost seemed more than I could bear.”

His gaze did not leave hers.

“And still, there was one memory I could never relinquish. One presence that remained, even in the bleakest hours.”

Elizabeth felt her vision blur.

“You.”

The single word carried the suffering of years.

“You were the light in that darkness. The thought of you sustained me when nothing else could. I held to it—to you. My very life depended upon it.”

Her hands trembled.

“Elizabeth,” he said, and her name upon his lips seemed to carry every unspoken feeling he had ever borne, “I love you. Not as I once thought I did, but more deeply, more entirely than I believed possible. I love you with a constancy that has endured every trial set before it, and I cannot—will not—conceal it any longer.”

She could not speak.

“I would have you for my wife,” he went on, his voice tender, though the strength within it did not waver. “I would share with you whatever life remains to me, in whatever form it may take. I ask—no, I beg you—will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Tears slipped freely down her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. Then, more firmly and with unmistakable conviction, she said again, “Yes.”

The word settled between them with the quiet solemnity of a vow.

Darcy drew her into his arms. His hand rose to cup her cheek, his touch gentle and reverent, like she were precious beyond measure. His thumb brushed lightly across her skin, tracing the path of her tears before his hand slid to the back of her neck and drew her closer still.

He kissed her. It was not tentative or restrained. It was filled with all that had been held back for years, all that had been denied and now, at last, freely given. Elizabeth felt the world tilt, her heart lifting with a sense of exhilaration so profound it left her breathless.

Her hand came to rest against his shoulder, her fingers curling lightly into the fabric of his coat as she leaned into him, returning the kiss with equal feeling.

He is mine. The notion came with a clarity that filled her entirely. And I am his.

When at last they parted, it was with reluctance, though neither spoke of it. Darcy rested his forehead briefly against hers, his breath stabilizing even as his hand remained at her neck, unwilling to relinquish the contact entirely.

“I cannot wait,” Elizabeth said, her voice still touched with emotion, “to begin our life together.”

A faint smile touched his lips. “Nor can I.” He stepped back a bit, though his gaze remained fixed upon her. “There is one more thing,” he said. From within his coat, he withdrew a small case.

Elizabeth’s breath caught once more.

He opened it. Within lay a ring. It was not ostentatious, nor overly elaborate, but there was a refinement to it that spoke of careful selection. The band was of gold, its surface engraved with a delicate pattern that seemed to intertwine upon itself in an unbroken design. At its center rested a deep blue stone, rich in color, its surface catching the light in a way that suggested depth beyond what was immediately visible.

“A sapphire,” Darcy said. “For constancy.”

Elizabeth’s heart swelled.

“The design,” he explained, “is meant to signify continuity. An unbroken bond.”

She could not take her eyes from it.

He lifted it from the case. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice sure once more, though no less filled with feeling, “accept this as a token of what I offer you. Not merely my name, but my heart, my loyalty, and whatever future we may build together.”