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He stood beside her, close enough to notice the garnet bracelet upon her wrist. The terrace looked across a lawn bright with rainwater. Beyond the low wall the orchard lay quiet, and an occasional drop fell from the leaves.

"May I speak to you plainly?" Darcy asked.

Elizabeth's heart quickened. "I hope you always do."

"I have known you for several years. At first I knew you chiefly as the spirited girl whom my uncle had taken into his protection. I admired your courage, but I had no notion of the pleasure your friendship would later give me."

Elizabeth turned toward him, suddenly incapable of an easy answer.

"As time passed," he continued, "I came to value your judgment, your kindness to Georgiana, and the manner in which you make the lives of those around you more generous and lively. I now find that ordinary days are better when I may speak with you, and that when we are apart I wish to tell you everything that has occurred."

He paused. His reserve had not disappeared; it had become something more vulnerable.

"I love you, Elizabeth. I have tried to determine whether I was imagining more than friendship in your regard, and I find I would rather hear your answer than continue guessing. Will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

For a moment Elizabeth could only look at him. She had imagined the possibility, had dismissed it, and then had allowed herself to hope. Hearing the words spoken with such quiet certainty was quite different from imagining them.

"Fitzwilliam," she said, and stopped.

He waited. The patience she loved in him was suddenly a terrible kindness, for she saw in his expression that he truly feared her answer.

"You have made me very happy," she said at last. "Yes. I will marry you."

The change in his face was so immediate and unguarded that she laughed through unexpected tears. He took her hands and pressed them gently, as though the promise required a moment to become real.

"You are certain?" he asked.

"Entirely. Though if you intend to ask again, I shall need to prepare a more eloquent answer."

"No. I should not risk it."

He drew her nearer and kissed her hand. Elizabeth wanted him to do something less ceremonious, but she was no more practiced in such moments than he appeared to be. When he asked softly whether he might kiss her, she answered by raising her face. His kiss was gentle and brief, but she felt the promise of it long after he stepped back.

"I ought to tell you something," she said.

Darcy looked alarmed. "I hope it is not that Richard has been wagering upon my intentions."

"I could not swear he has not. But I meant something else." She took his hand. "I have always been aware that I possess very little fortune of my own. I do not wish you ever to suppose that I accepted you because you can offer security. I have known what it is to need a home, and I could not bear to make you another obligation."

Darcy's expression became deeply serious. "Elizabeth, I know why the matter troubles you. I cannot erase the treatment you endured at Longbourn. But I ask you to marry me because I wish to share my life with you, not because I believe you incapable of making one for yourself."

She breathed out slowly.

"I do not need you to arrive with a fortune," he continued. "I need you to arrive as yourself. I can imagine nothing more fortunate than that."

She smiled. "Then you must prepare to endure my opinions."

"I have already found I cannot do without them."

They remained on the terrace until the evening air grew cool, discussing Georgiana's delight and Richard's certain objections to the size of any wedding breakfast. Darcy asked whether Lady Matlock would still expect him at Sunday supper after their marriage. Elizabeth laughed at the solemnity with which he asked. She found herself reluctant to leave the terrace even after the lamps had been lit indoors.

When they entered the drawing room together, Richard looked at their joined hands and gave an exclamation of triumph.

"At last!"

Saye closed the book he had been reading. "Richard, do attempt to allow them to speak before you announce a victory that was not yours."

The Earl rose. Lady Matlock put down her sewing, and Georgiana, who had arrived that morning, looked between Darcy and Elizabeth with dawning hope.