Page 82 of A Prudent Engagement

They had been closer before, they had kissed before, but there was a difference, an awareness of his body that she had only half let herself acknowledge before. “I do not wish for you to ever leave.”

Darcy’s hand over hers convulsively tightened.

Elizabeth’s mouth went a little dry.

They stood there together like that for half a minute, and Jane and Mr. Bingley had disappeared behind a line of tall oaks when the two of them started strolling forwards again in a more amiable, less strained manner.

“I am glad then that I returned.”

“I feared that I would never see you again. I was sure of it,” Elizabeth said.

Darcy reached out his hand to her cheek, as he had many times during their courtship. She leaned into the hand.

“Elizabeth, you are too kind to trifle with my feelings. Much was said before. Much that I cannot look on with complaisance. But my feelings and wishes are unchanged. If you would marry me, despite everything you know of me, it would make me the happiest man in the world—but tell me once that it is impossible, and I shall be silent forever.”

“I...I...” She needed to reply, but her eyes were flooded with tears. She could not speak. She could not even see him through her tears.

He took her in his arms and held her tenderly against his chest, his hand softly stroking through her curls and along the back of her neck.

Even when she ceased to cry, letting go of him was impossible. She did not want to.

He let her hold the embrace for a long time.

She at last whispered into his coat, unable to look at him, “I love you. I realised it when you said that you could not be happy with me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “And then you promptly ended the engagement. We are a strange pair.”

“But we belong together,” Elizabeth insisted. “I believe that truly.”

“I do as well.”

They then turned and continued to stroll towards Oakham Mount.

It was some minutes before either of them could speak, but Elizabeth’s smile grew wider and wider. “I am so happy that you returned.”

“I confess to presently considering it one of my better decisions as well,” Darcy replied. “I had never realised how vain I was—do you know, I rather considered myself as having only good features?”

Elizabeth giggled. “I knew that.”

“You who are such a keen observer of character could not have avoided seeing it,” Darcy said, and his voice seemed full of happiness.

He then said in a serious tone, “My father once told me that, after she died, he missed the arguments with his wife greatly—not the argument itself but that moment afterwards when the air was clear and there was only affection left, and a knowing that they were both closer than ever. He thought that many men never touch on those points of conversation that are most painful, and thus never grow so close as they should to their helpmeet.”

Elizabeth could only glow in return at him. She said contemplatively, “Though they did love each other—I see that now—perhaps my parents were not so close as they ought to have been because they seldom spoke on any serious matter. Let us promise to always tell each other what is in our hearts, or at least to do the best we might.”

“Yes, we shall.” Darcy agreed. “I feel in my bones that because we have faced this terrible test of our affection and because we have passed it, we shall be closer than ever, and we shall always understand each other better.

Elizabeth smiled warmly at him and took his hand and squeezed it.

Darcy blushed a little but held her gaze. After a little time he did look away, then he said, “But I have learned that I do have flaws, the same as any ordinary mortal. Are you certain you wish to marry a man who is imperfect?”

“You are an extraordinary mortal,” Elizabeth said, giggling, though her eyes were teary. “More like Alexander the Great, or Caesar, than the town butcher.”

“So you think that I am either like a man who drunk himself to death or one who destroyed the ancient constitution of his nation? I might prefer to be the butcher.”

Elizabeth giggled again. Then she embraced him. “I do like you. It is not only love. Very much. I could not have—you have been so kind.”

“It is nothing that you do not deserve.”