She took a deep breath and shuddered against him. “It is one of the only things you have ever asked of me, Papa. I could not do it for someone I loved less.”

“Very good, my dear. In time, I hope you will come to see you do this for yourself as well.”

Feeling all the weight of the promise she’d just made, she leaned on her father and wept bitter, heart-rending tears.

~

Elizabeth slept fitfully and when she set out to meet Mr. Darcy, she looked wan and tired. She pinched her cheeks and reminded herself to be polite, then headed towards the grove. Mr. Darcy was already there, pacing near the stream.

“Miss Elizabeth!” He smiled and approached her quickly, taking both her hands in his and squeezing them tightly. “I am so glad to see you.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t come?”

He only smiled in response and looped her arm in his. They walked in silence a few minutes before he said, “I gather you spoke with your father?”

“Yes, we spoke last night,” she answered, her eyes on the ground.

He stopped and faced her, causing her to do the same. “Miss Elizabeth, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” She blushed and looked down, not knowing what to say. He needed no encouragement to continue. “I am sorry I spoke to your father before you. It had not been my intention.” She nodded. He took a deep breath and straightened his tall frame fully. “Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the very great honor of accepting my hand in marriage?”

She took a breath, rose her face to his long enough to see his eyes shining in expectation, looked back to the ground and said, “Yes, Mr. Darcy. I accept.”

He smiled radiantly and raised one hand to his lips and then the other, pressing fervent kisses on her gloved hands.

“Thank you, Elizabeth.” She startled and looked up at the familiar address and he smiled to see her surprise. He caressed her cheek with one hand, slowly and deliberately, and she grew so flustered she looked all around, not knowing where to rest her eyes, and finally settled on the buttons of his waistcoat.

He took her arm and began walking again, this time pulling her as close as possible and resting his hand over her smaller one on his arm. His thumb rubbed lazy circles on the back of her hand, giving her the strangest urge to swat him away.

“Are you looking forward to the seaside?” he inquired.

“Yes, I am. It will be my first trip and I am quite eager to see the shore,” she said, grateful to speak of something other than their engagement.

“May I write to you there?”

“You may,” she answered quietly.

“And will you write to me?”

She flushed. “If you wish it.”

“I do. Has your father spoken to you of a wedding date?”