“Your daughter has always met them,” Darcy admitted, his dark gaze warming. “I was lost to her fine eyes within two weeks of arriving in Hertfordshire.”
“I knew it!” Bennet said with a laugh, and slapped his knee. “You fought the attraction too fiercely for someone who did not care. Well, ask what you came to ask, and let us end this dance.”
Bennet savoured the look of surprise on Darcy’s face. He had already resolved to forgive him. Elizabeth would expect nothing less. Her recent letters praised Darcy and his sister so warmly that the old anger he had felt that November night had all but vanished. It also helped that Morgan’s news, informing him that Darcy had asked to call on Elizabeth before learning of their altered circumstances, had softened him further.
“Well… I…” Darcy began. “I was privileged to spend some time with your daughter when we were both in Kent, and it was there I realised my feelings had grown beyond admiration to love and was about to propose marriage, when she asked why. Why did I love her?” He smiled at the memory. “Her question startled me, and after a candid conversation, I amended my intention to propose into a request to call upon her, so we might truly get to know one another.”
“Are you not a little late with asking for my consent? Call it any name you like, but you and my daughter have already spent two months courting.”
“That is true, and I wish to now ask your permission for her hand in marriage,” Darcy said, his voice earnest.
Bennet studied him for a long moment, then straightened. He had not anticipated this, at least, not at this juncture. “Is Elizabeth aware you hope to take this further?”
“She has long known my feelings, and this afternoon she told me her heart is almost equal in affection to mine.”
“In that case, you have my full consent and blessing.” Bennet stood and extended his hand, which Darcy eagerly took. “I could not let my brightest daughter wed a man who could not, or would not respect her intellect andjoie de vivre.”
“I have nothing but the deepest respect and admiration for your daughter. She inspires me to be a better man.”
“That is all a father could ask for… at least until settlement papers are signed,” Bennet teased, shepherding Darcy towards the library door. “Go find Lizzy and tell her that I will see her at dinner.”
Darcy turned and held Bennet’s gaze.
“Thank you, sir. I will not let you down.”
“I know,” he said and stepped back into the library, closingthe door behind him.
“You were easy on him, Thomas,” his countess said softly, peering around the tall chair that had hidden her from view.
Bennet grinned, loving the soft look of his wife with her hair tumbling down around her shoulders. He scooped her up, seating her on his lap with a flourish, then claimed her lips in a tender kiss.
“I had to scold him a little, give my concession for their continued courtship — lest our second daughter rain wrath upon me — and then shoo him away so I could give my full attention to my beautiful wife.” He cradled her with one arm. “I am so very glad you decided to join me in my library.”
“What else was I to do?” she said, tracing the contours of his familiar face with her fingertips. “I was starting to forget what you looked like.”
“What say you to me promising to spend only two hours a day in the library?” he suggested. “The rest of my time will be spent on estate matters, tea with you, or whatever else you desire.”
Her eyes sparkled. “You would do that? For me?”
“Franny, no book can replace you. I enjoy reading, that is true, but the memories I cherish are those where you are first and foremost among them.”
His wife rested her head on his shoulder as he pulled her even closer. “I love you, Thomas.”
“And I love you, Frances.” He kissed the top of her head as the lamplight flickered around them, and the library clock ticked on into the late afternoon.
The following morning, alow mist stillclung to the surface of the lake when Elizabeth found herself on the winding path that skirted its edge, her half-boots darkening with dew at every step. She had not expected company, yet when the path curved past a stand of birch, there stood Mr. Darcy, his dark coat collar turned against the morning chill, and neither made any pretense of surprise.
“Good morning, Mr. Darcy.” Elizabeth lifted her face to him, her voice bright against the quiet of dawn. “I am reacquainting myself with the local flora and fauna. Until now, we visited Tetherwood only briefly; but, now that it is our home, the landscape takes on an entirely new character, if you apprehend my meaning.”
“I understand perfectly.” He was quiet for a moment, his hands clasped behind his back as they walked. “After my father’s death, Pemberley appeared transformed to me. I could never have explained it. I had lived there all my life, but the moment I realised I held every responsibility, my view of the place shifted completely.”
“Precisely,” she agreed. The path curved closer to the water, and for a moment their reflection shimmered on the still surface beneath them. “I know we shall never return to Meryton…”
Darcy’s brow lifted. “Not even to marry in your childhood parish?”
She lowered her eyes as a soft blush colored her cheeks. “Not even then. Longbourn is leased to a most reliable tenant, so there really is no need.” She paused, then added in a gentler tone, “When I marry, it will be at St. George’s, Hanover Square.”
A spark of delight kindled in his dark eyes. “That is my parish as well, that is, whenever I am away from Pemberley.”