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When he had gone, Charlotte closed the door and leaned against it.

“Lizzy,” she said slowly, “it seems to me that chance has just changed your life considerably.”

My hand went to Jane's letter.

“It may change my entire family's life as well.”

Chapter 3

Darcy

She had accepted.

During the journey to Rosings, I repeated this truth to myself with the obstinacy of a man afraid to wake from a dream. Elizabeth Bennet had agreed to become my wife.

I knew she did not yet love me. She had told me so with a frankness any other woman might have judged imprudent. Yet she had spoken of esteem, of possible trust, of an affection that might grow. I knew her integrity well enough to know she would not have spoken those words without believing them.

That was enough.

I had desired her with a violence that had at first offended my pride. I had sought her faults and found only more reasons to watch her. Her vivacity provoked me. Her laughter reached places within me I had thought long closed. Even her unfavorable opinion mattered more to me than the admiration of women from whom I wanted nothing.

That evening, she had given me a chance to become worthy of her.

Fitzwilliam was in the Rosings library when a servant announced me. He looked up from his book and studied me.

“You look like a man who has just won a battle or declared one.”

“I am engaged.”

The book nearly slipped from his hands.

“To whom?”

I gave him a look that made him laugh.

“Forgive me. Your answer seems obvious, but your eagerness was not. Miss Bennet?”

“Yes.”

He rose at once and shook my hand with a warmth that touched me.

“I congratulate you. Sincerely. She is admirable.”

“I know.”

“Now there’s a declaration of enthusiasm worthy of you.”

I looked toward the fire.

“She does not wish the engagement announced before her father has given his consent.”

“Reasonable.”

“My aunt will not see it that way.”

Fitzwilliam grimaced.

“My aunt rarely finds anything reasonable unless she decided it herself. Do you intend to tell her this evening?”


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