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"I know that Fitzwilliam Darcy has begun visiting this family with an unusual devotion to our bookshelves. I know that he watches you when you laugh. And I know that you have ceased taking an entirely impartial view of his character."

Elizabeth covered her face. "Aunt, how dreadful."

"It is not dreadful. It is rather delightful."

"But if he should decide I am unsuitable—"

"Elizabeth, look at me."

She did.

"You have spent years learning that affection is not an obligation. Do not now imagine that your happiness must be granted only if you can demonstrate your usefulness to a man. If Mr. Darcy loves you, it will be because he loves you. If he does not, your worth remains exactly what it is."

Elizabeth nodded, her eyes bright. "I shall try to remember."

"And whatever happens," Lady Matlock added, "you will always have this home."

Darcy, meanwhile, had been closeted with the Earl for the better part of an hour. The conversation began with matters relating to Pemberley and ended in a silence so prolonged that Lord Matlock laid down his pen.

"Fitzwilliam, you have read the same paragraph twice. I should be interested to know whether it contains some defect invisible to me."

Darcy set aside the document. "I wish to speak to you about Elizabeth."

"Then I shall give you my full attention."

"I intend to ask her to marry me."

The Earl remained still for a moment. Then his expression changed into one of unmistakable pleasure.

"I had hoped you might," he said.

"I would not ask without first making my intentions known to you. You have been a father to her in every way that matters."

"I am grateful you understand that." Matlock leaned back. "But I will remind you of something else. She has learned, at some cost, to defend her own wishes. The decision is hers, whether I approve or not."

"I should not dream of treating it otherwise."

"Good. And if she refuses you, you are not to inflict your wounded dignity upon my household. Richard is quite capable of supplying enough of that."

Darcy's mouth curved. "I shall endeavor to suffer privately."

The Earl regarded him fondly. "You have always been a man of duty, Fitzwilliam. I hope you will give yourself permission to be happy as well."

"I believe I might be happier with her than I have ever been."

Matlock's eyes grew moist before he looked down at the document. "Then you had better ask her. I have no desire to be responsible for keeping either of you waiting."

The opportunity arose in the late afternoon when the rain passed and a pale sun appeared beyond the clouds. Elizabeth had gone out to the sheltered terrace behind the house to examine the roses that survived Richard's morning expedition. Darcy found her there beside a stone urn, the book he had given her resting upon a bench.

"You have already begun reading it," he said.

She looked up. "I have begun it twice and reached the same page on both occasions. That is not the author's fault."

"Then I hope it has pleased you so far."

"Very much. You remembered something dear to me. I do not know how to thank you."

"You have thanked me sufficiently."