The sun had just begun to paint the sky with its rays when she heard him approach three mornings after Lydia and Georgiana's untimely attack. Elizabeth had secured permission from her hosts to wander the gardens at will - but young Mr. Darcy had insisted that she not stray too far given their sisters' recent misfortune.

Perhaps even more telling was his absolute certainty that it was his duty to accompany his friend and guest in the gardens each morning - despite his blatant excuses whenever Miss Bingley sought the same assistance from him.

"Miss Elizabeth." Her dutiful companion appeared beside her just as she reached the bend in the path.

"Mr. Darcy." She smiled.

He offered his arm without another word, and she took it, as she was wont to do these days.

They wandered the eastern part of the gardens today, its blooms an entirely different pattern than those facing other parts of the house. As he did in the previous days, he regaled her with tales of his childhood - and of memories of his mother.

It had become apparent to Elizabeth, despite his lack of direct allusion, that Pemberley had long needed a mistress - and she gained a newfound understanding of just how eligible the man beside her was in the eyes of society.

It was no wonder then that Miss Bingley envied their friendship so.

"Do you tire, Miss Elizabeth?" He asked her a minute hence.

"I - no, not at all." She looked up to meet his eyes, surprised at his inquiry.

"You appeared - distracted."

She smiled slightly, apologetically. "Forgive me. I fear my mind was preoccupied."

"I understand." His free hand came to rest upon the gloved one she kept on his arm. He had been taking greater liberties with such touches of late. "Your bravery and calm, despite proving so very helpful in the face of adversity, must have come at a toll upon your person."

She felt her steps lull, her mind still striving to comprehend.

Another few seconds of thought wrought her understanding that he referred to Lydia and Georgiana's recent incident - again.

"You need not acknowledge my part so repeatedly, sir." She smiled. "Had it not been you, Mr. Wickham may be harming more young ladies still."

"And yet, if I had been sufficiently persistent in persuading my father about his habits - "

"You tried - did you not? Resulting in your being sent to Longbourn?" She longed to cease his self-recrimination.

When he lifted his eyes to hers, they carried warmth and and richness of depth.

"I find that I have no cause to repine - over that arrangement."

"Nor I - Mr. Darcy."

He did not reply in words; she kept her silence. In the whirl that had been the past few months, her feelings towards this intriguing young man had warped from petty annoyance to curious friendliness to genuine concern and, perhaps, to a hint of something more.

Dared she hope his emotions had undergone similar changes - in her favor?

Slowly, he closed his fingers around hers. She waited as he secured their hands into a warm, firm clasp.

"You have forgiven me for my ruse then," he said.

"Gladly - for you have paid penance enough."

"Thank you - "

"Sir, you do not need - "

"For your friendship - and vivacity - and brightness of being and love."

She did not know how to respond.

"I hope, Miss Elizabeth, that we - " His voice was tender. She smiled patiently as he spoke. "The length of our acquaintance and its premise may have been unconventional, yet I hope we - an understanding that we - "

She raised her brows slightly as he fumbled.

"I hope that our interactions since our arrival at Pemberley - however disrupted and, sadly, under keen and observant eyes. Please forgive - that is - we - "

He sighed nervously. She squeezed his hands slightly, assuring him as she could.

"Mr. Darcy?"

He chuckled and sighed all at once. "Yes, Miss Elizabeth."

"Are you having difficulty expressing your thoughts?"

He nodded softly, a shadow of a blush tinging his cheeks.

"I find, madam," he said then, "that it was almost easier to speak my mind when the mantle of being Pemberley's heir had not rested on my shoulders."

She nodded, understanding dawning.

"And if you were speaking as someone else - as a - steward, perhaps?"

He met her eyes again - and this time, there was nothing but certainty in his gaze.

"If I were speaking as a steward in training - a man entirely under your mercy?"

Her patient smile and nod encouraged him in his nerve-wracking endeavor. He hoped she at least knew what he was trying painstakingly to express.

"Well, then, I suppose - I would have very few riches or promise of life to offer." He felt his smile turn sheepish. He held her hands as tightly as he could without pressing them with undue force. "But my feelings would remain unchanged."

"Feelings, sir?"

He stepped closer, until a mere foot separated them.

"Please permit me to tell you, Miss Elizabeth, how dearly I admire and esteem you. I would like to hope - that despite the many variances that have come between us during the course of our acquaintance - that I have made myself clear regarding my - affinity and preference for you."

She lifted her shoulders slightly, as if expressing uncertainty. "I suppose."

No - such ambiguity could not be borne!

"I love you," he blurted, with no hesitation now. He watched as her lips fell slightly apart. "I have long considered such feelings weak or even silly - nearly unmanly in their giddiness. But there truly is no other word for how I feel now. I care deeply for your welfare and would find it the greatest privilege of my life to have you by my side."

Slowly, she rewarded him with a beautiful smile.

"And, pray, tell, Mr. Darcy - " Her smile turned nearly mischievous - like the ones she would offer him during their Longbourn friendship days as Miss Lizzy and Mr. William Young. "What path of life would you suggest for the benefit of my welfare?"

He smiled in relief now, believing at last that she at least entertained his attentions beyond friendship.

"If I may, madam." He cleared his throat, nerves returning. "I would like - I hope you would - that is - "

He sighed deeply. She giggled.

She was radiant - and he longed for many more years with her as the nourishing sun of the kingdom of his life.

"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, Elizabeth?"

Her smile turned even brighter, even richer, even more striking than ever before.

She swayed their clasped hands between them. "Yes, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy - I will."

He hugged her then, anxious to feel her close - and he reveled in the joy with which she returned his embrace. He stepped back slightly to give them room, before swinging her around in jubilation. Her laughter rang around them in clear, ecstatic peals.

"Thank you, my love - for granting me your future," he gushed when he placed her back on the ground at last, both of them visibly panting. His hands caressed her face. "I promise I shall cherish it."

"As long as you permit me to climb any tree I wish in Pemberley, I think I could hardly complain."

It was his turn to laugh - and to hug her again.

They spent the rest of the morning in unparalleled joy, wandering the gardens with the occasional glimpse towards what he now believed to be his favorite spot. He promised to speak to Mr. Bennet that very day, and she teased him about having his father be his greatest supporter in their unconventional courtship.

As far as Darcy knew, she was entirely right.

The sun shone brightly by the time they both conceded that they no longer had any excuse for further solitude. Returning indoors too late could only induce fresh panic for their families, who recovered still from the shock of Georgiana and Miss Lydia's attack.

And if his dear and lovely Elizabeth surprised him right before the final turn in the garden with a long, sweet, and delightful kiss - Darcy made sure no one was the wiser.

Three Years Later

"Ah, Lydia says there is nothing in his manner that could suggest romantic intent - but Papa's letter clearly contradicts her assumption!" Elizabeth - his Elizabeth - announced triumphantly from the couch where she'd surrounded herself with letters from Hertfordshire. Despite spending every summer together, she and her sisters corresponded as fervently as friends who hadn't met for years.

Darcy smiled, the eloquence of his love for his wife growing ever stronger. The two babes sleeping in the nursery tonight proved their passion in the most tangible of ways.

A stray, sad thought of how his father had only lived to meet his first grandchild flitted through Darcy's mind. But, as he had learned to do, Darcy mourned quietly until the moment passed. Some things felt more sacred when left unsaid.

"Poor Jane is all nerves about her impending confinement, despite every assurance I've given her that all would be well," Elizabeth lamented at the letter she now held. "We don't all squeal like the animals."

Darcy smiled. "You do not, I'm afraid - but rather squeal worse."

"Fitzwilliam Darcy!" His wife's face was all indignation. "I bear you two sons and you dare insult me so!"

Darcy chuckled as he walked over to take a seat beside her. Even now, the edges of her lips are curling into a smile.

He folded her supple form into his arms. "I must admit I worried for you more dearly at each birth than the day I saw you plunging from that Longbourn tree."

"You were there to save me then - can't you merely do it again?"

"But what if I am not?"

"Not what?"

"What if I had not been there that day? Or, the next time you deign yourself fit enough to scale Pemberley's forests?"

"You did promise me leave to climb any tree I wished."

"A promise I have kept."

"No! You did not - "

"The only time I refused you was when you were carrying Benny - and was I not right to have insisted upon it?" He leveled a firm, husbandly look at her.

Her mock discontent melted away soon enough. "Very well. But I do miss my Longbourn days."

"As do I."

She smiled then - and rewarded him with many loving kisses. Thank God for the privacy of their spacious sitting room!

"We can visit your father and sister when the babe is fit to travel. Georgiana needs your help in preparing for her season as well."

"And Jane and Charles too."

"Yes, of course. One cannot plan to visit Longbourn without including Netherfield in one's plans."

His wife beamed at him. The warmth of domesticity that he felt made him wonder why he had ever used to think marriage to be a trap of any kind.

"I must admit some degree of curiosity over this Mr. Collins who may or may not be courting Lydia."

"Did you not say he was a vain and silly man?"

"Reports of him certainly said so - though my father describes him as more well-meaning and ill-equipped than truly foolish."

"I see."

"I suppose it shall be Lydia's choice."

"For certain." He kissed Elizabeth's brow, enjoying the way her curves leaned against his torso. "Can you picture your sister a parson's wife?"

"Well." Elizabeth trailed her fingers up and down his chest. He could feel his own body warming further. "If I could marry a steward - what would stop my dear sister from marrying a man of a cloth?"

"Well said, darling, well said."

A/N: And they live happily ever after :) I struggled with writing this proposal. They all run together after a while! I hope it was done in a refreshing way. In other news, I have been getting a bit of a lack of inspiration recently. I hope it's just a temporary lull and not a permanent loss of creativity. Here's hoping there can be more stories to share with you all! Thank you so much for supporting my stories :)