“I think it is refreshing,” said Jane. “Who wants to constantly worry whether others are trying to manipulate us or force those who would rather not into good behavior?”

“You are wise, Miss Bennet. Strategy is best left to the chess-board. I prefer my interactions to be simpler.”

She smiled and he took her hand in his.

“For example, when I admire a woman, she will know it by the way I hold her hand, and have eyes only for her.” He looked at her meaningfully and she blushed scarlet. “I will be straightforward in my addresses, but patient and in tune with her desires. She will know how cherished she is by how I give her all of my time, all my attention,” he kissed the back of her hand slowly, “all my heart.”

Jane gasped, her breath coming rapidly.

“Miss Bennet, say the word and I will cease speaking this minute,” he whispered urgently.

She swallowed loudly, but said nothing, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

“Miss Bennet, Jane, I must tell you how much I love and adore you. I loved you in Hertfordshire, but that was as nothing compared to what I feel for you now. I promise to treasure you above all else. Will you do me the very great honor of being my wife?”

Jane’s heart practically leapt out of her chest, and she wanted to fall into his arms, but she forced herself to stop and think rationally for a moment. She closed her eyes, feeling his hands tighten around hers. Could she rely on him always? Would he be able to stand his ground against his sisters and officious friends? Would he be a true head of the family, or would she be constantly prompting him to lead and exhausting herself in the process?

An image of Mr. Walker came to mind. He was more like Mr. Darcy: dependable, predictable, reliable, and very in control. And yet, she felt nothing when she thought of him. No butterflies in her stomach, no hitch in her breath, no gooseflesh on her arms. He was pleasant and good company and nothing more.

Finally, after Bingley was sure he had aged five years, she slowly opened her eyes and smiled angelically at him.

“Yes!” she cried.

The word was barely out of her mouth before he stood and pulled her up with him, embracing her and spinning around. They laughed together and Jane felt tears of joy on her cheeks. He tenderly wiped them away with a handkerchief and she laughed nervously.

“I must go to my mother,” she said.

“I’ll go to your father,” he replied.

Smiling at each other again, they went into the house.

Chapter 29