“Elizabeth—”
“I can forgive you,” she said. “If that is what you want.”
For a moment, Darcy simply stared at her, as though he could not quite believe what he was hearing. “You would forgive me? After everything?”
“But I believe we can learn from our mistakes. I believe we can do better. I have been haughty at times, unkind. I treated you harshly when we first met. Those were mistakes I atoned for. You can do the same. This can be in our past.”
“I do not deserve your forgiveness,” Darcy whispered, his free hand coming up to cup her cheek. “I do not deserve you at all.”
“Perhaps not,” Elizabeth said with a small smile. “But I find I do not care about deserving. And the truth is, I love you too, Fitzwilliam. Despite everything, because of everything—I love you.”
The words hung between them for a moment, precious and fragile. Then Darcy pulled her into his arms, his lips finding hers in a kiss that tasted of desperation and hope and promisesyet to be made. When they finally broke apart, both were breathing hard.
“I love you,” Darcy said against her forehead. “I have loved you for so long, and the thought that I had lost you—”
“You have not lost me,” Elizabeth assured him, her hands fisting in his shirt. “We have found each other, truly this time.”
They held each other in silence for a moment, the weight of the past weeks finally beginning to lift from their shoulders.
“What will happen to Wickham?” Elizabeth asked eventually.
“He will face the consequences of his actions,” Darcy replied grimly. “He has stolen from your family, trespassed, and taken advantage of Lydia’s youth and naivety. To say nothing of trying to trick you into marriage. The magistrate will not be lenient.”
“And his father?”
Darcy’s expression grew pained. “It will be difficult for him. But I think I underestimated Mr Wickham strength. He is tougher than I gave him credit for, and perhaps it is time he knew the truth about his son.”
Elizabeth nodded thoughtfully. “There is something I have been thinking about,” she said. “Perhaps we might invite Mr Wickham to stay with us. And Georgiana as well—she is a gentleman’s sister now and should not have to work as a maid unless she chooses to.”
Darcy’s eyes brightened at the suggestion. “You would do that? After everything?”
“Mr Wickham is important to you, and therefore important to me,” Elizabeth said simply. “As for Georgiana, she is my sister now. Family takes care of family.”
“Your generosity astounds me,” Darcy murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.
Elizabeth laughed suddenly, the sound bright in the dim cabin. “My mother will truly need her vapours now. She had already set her cap on a viscount’s second son for my next husband.”
Darcy’s laughter joined hers, the first genuine laugh she had heard from him in weeks. But then his expression grew serious again, his hands framing her face.
“Elizabeth,” he said solemnly, “I should like to marry you again. Properly this time. With our families present, with the full knowledge of who we are and what we mean to each other.”
Elizabeth’s heart swelled at the sincerity in his voice, the love she could see shining in his dark eyes. “Are you proposing to me, Mr Darcy?”
“I am,” he said, dropping to one knee right there in the shabby cabin, taking her hands in his. “Lady Elizabeth Bennet, will you do me the incredible honour of becoming my wife? In truth this time, with love as our foundation?”
“Yes,” Elizabeth whispered, tears of joy sliding down her cheeks. “Yes, Fitzwilliam. A thousand times yes.”
He rose and kissed her again, slower this time, sealing their promise with all the tenderness and passion they had been denying themselves for so long.
As they made their way back through the woods towards Longbourn, Elizabeth felt as though she were walking into an entirely new life. Behind them lay deception and heartbreak, but ahead stretched the promise of a love built on truth, forgiveness, and the hard-won knowledge that they had chosen each other not out of convenience or desperation, but out of genuine, abiding love.
The road would not always be easy, but they would travel it together. And that, Elizabeth thought as Darcy’s fingers intertwined with hers, made all the difference in the world.
Epilogue
Longbourn Estate, Hertfordshire
September 1813
