Page 112 of The Long Road Back to Yesterday

“Nor I you, sir.”

Chapter 38: The Proposal

The following morning, Elizabeth found Mr. Darcy waiting alone at the gate.

She looked beyond him. “Is Georgiana unwell again?”

“No. She is quite well. I asked her to remain at Pemberley this morning.”

Elizabeth regarded him with curiosity but did not question him further. Mr. Darcy released the reins, and his mount followed behind them as they set out toward Arbor Low. From time to time, the horse stopped to crop the grass before catching up again.

For several minutes they spoke of nothing of consequence, and Elizabeth welcomed the easy conversation.

When they reached Arbor Low, they crossed among the stones until they came to the place where they had stood the previous morning.

“Miss Elizabeth, yesterday I told you that I did not wish to lose you again, and I have thought of little else since.”

Mr. Darcy took her hand.

“I believed Georgiana’s situation had taken away my right to ask a woman to share my life, considering the burden my family carried. Then I learned what Wickham had done to yours and discovered that you had reached much the same conclusion about your own future.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wickham is responsible for what he did to our sisters. I will not permit him to determine anything more between us.”

His expression was earnest and warm.

He drew nearer and took her hands. “I love you, Elizabeth. I find that when we are in the same room, I cannot keep my eyes from you. When we are apart, I think of what you might be doing and count the hours until I may see you again. I have tried to be sensible about you, but I no longer wish to be.”

Elizabeth’s heart beat faster.

“I love you too, Fitzwilliam.”

He bent close and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss.

She rose onto her toes and returned it, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself against him. His arms tightened around her waist, and he kissed her again, this time with fervor.

She had not known he was capable of such passion. A thrill went through her, and a low sound of pleasure escaped her lips.

One corner of his mouth curved, and she saw the lurking smile in his eyes.

Elizabeth felt as if she had entered another world, one in which the longing of her heart had been answered.

At last, she knew what it was to be kissed by Mr. Darcy.

“Darling, we have weeks before December twenty-first,” he said. “I do not intend to waste them simply because we hope to change what has happened.”

He held her closer.

“Elizabeth, will you marry me?”

For one wonderful moment, the answer required no thought. Then she considered what success might mean.

“Fitzwilliam, we may stand before a clergyman and make our vows, live as husband and wife, and then, if we cross back, return to a time when none of it has happened. Our marriage will disappear along with everything else.”

“But that does not make our marriage meaningless while we are living it.”

“No, it does not. What troubles me is that we do not know what we shall remember afterward.”