She found herself wondering what their children would look like and presumed they would surely all have curly hair, since both she and her husband did. His was less so than hers, but she would be very surprised at a straight-haired child. Just as Jane and Bingley would likely have angelic blond children with sweet dispositions, the Darcy children would likely all be dark and either very mischievous or very serious. She found herself laughing at the picture.

She placed her hand over her abdomen and felt its flatness, wondering what she would look like swollen with child. What would it feel like to have a babe growing inside her?

“What are you doing, love?” Darcy asked as he wrapped his arms around her and placed his hands over hers.

“I was thinking about having a baby,” she said absently.

He stiffened and turned her to face him. “Are you?” he glanced down to her belly. “Are we going to…?”

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry! No, I’m not with child. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I was just thinking about the possibility.”

He nodded, his expression slightly dazed. “What do you think of the possibility?” he asked quietly, holding her close enough that she couldn’t see his face.

“I think it would be lovely. And a little frightening. And exciting.”

He pulled back and looked at her.

“But I think I would also miss this time when it is just the two of us,” she added.

He smiled. “Truly? I will miss it, too,” he said, pulling her close again and resting his head on her hair. It was some time before he realized she had called him darling for the first time.

Elizabeth caught their image in the mirror hanging across from the table. They looked so very right together, so content in each other’s presence, and suddenly she was struck with a startling realization. He was the man, in disposition and talents, who suited her best. Her liveliness was already making him easier and more pleasant in company and his greater information benefitted her immensely and engendered a respect she doubted she could ever feel for another man to the same degree.

We’re perfect for each other.

Stunned by her realization, she failed to respond to something her husband said. Were there bees in the room? Is that why she heard buzzing?

“Elizabeth! Are you well?” He was placing a hand to her forehead and looking at her worriedly.

She only stared back at him blankly.

“You suddenly went pale. Come, lie down.” He turned to lead her toward the settee but she didn’t move.

He looked at her worriedly, and suddenly she blurted, “I think I love you.” His eyes widened and she closed hers in mortification. “I’m sorry, that was badly done.”

“You—you think… what?” he asked.

“Fitzwilliam,” she said, eyes shining and color restored, “I’ve fallen in love with you.”