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her husband's wry smile, stopped, and started to laugh. "Oh dear!" she said, as Darcy smiled and shook his head, "Neither of us were particularly cautious, I'm afraid."
They recalled that first occasion at Hunsford, when Darcy had declared himself in the strangest way, rushing headlong, throwing caution and sensibility to the winds, and Elizabeth had responded with a degree of sharpness of which she had never dreamed herself capable. She begged him not to remind her of the hurt and harm she had done, with her reproaches, but Darcy disagreed, claiming that her frankness and honesty had been just what he had needed to jolt him out of his smugness and complacency. "It forced me to look at myself to confront the fact that I had no right to claim the status of a gentleman unless I behaved like one to all those I met and mingled with. No, Lizzie, had you not spoken and taught me the lesson I had to learn, we might never have found out that we cared for each other." Lizzie's cheeks burned as he went on, "Look at us now, could we ever have been this happy if we had not been honest with one another?"
"You are probably right in that, dearest, but are we in danger of becoming a tiny bit smug and complacent ourselves?" She was teasing him, but he replied seriously, "Never Lizzie, whilst ever you set such high standards for us both." Lizzie smiled. "I must agree we are very happy and comfortable together. I had feared we might be too reserved with each other, but it has not been so," she said.
"That is because you, my love, with your open, honest manner, would defy anyone to be reserved," he said, smiling as he added, "it was the quality I found most engaging and hardest to resist."
This time, Elizabeth could not help but tease him. With her eyes sparkling, she quipped, "Especially when you were so determined to do just that!" Darcy would not permit her to continue, not even in jest, protesting that he had proved his love and would do so again, if necessary. At this point, Lizzie decided she would tease him no more; there was never any doubt at all of his love for her. "Could we go home?" she asked, softly, and sensing her changed mood, Darcy rose immediately and helped her into the carriage.
There was something very special between them. Theirs was no "unequal marriage" of the sort her father had warned against: a marriage in which one partner found it hard to respect the other, the kind of union that, they acknowledged without ever saying a word, existed between her parents. This type of marriage Lizzie had dreaded all her life. She and Jane had frequently vowed to remain unwed, rather than submit to that ultimate indignity. With Darcy, Elizabeth already knew she had a marriage after her own heart; she could unreservedly say that the love they shared was stronger for the esteem they had for each other.
They drove back into town, wrapped in a warm, affectionate silence, and went directly to Darcy's townhouse in Portman Square. "We're home," he said, helping Lizzie out. They embraced as she alighted into his arms and went upstairs, leaving their coats and scarves in the hall.
That evening, they dined with Fitzwilliam and the Bingleys. He was sailing on the morrow for Ceylon and India, where he was to work with the East India Company for at least three years. He confessed to being suddenly sad to leave, knowing it would be a long time before he would see England and all his friends again. He had dined the previous evening with the Gardiners, and all these farewells were taking their toll upon his spirits.
Elizabeth had sensed the sadness that seemed to overlay his earlier enthusiasm and said so to her sister. Jane was convinced that it had more to do with losing Lizzie than leaving England. Their husbands, on the other hand, much more interested in the business opportunities than in Fitzwilliam's state of mind, did not remark upon it at all.
Two days later, they were on the road themselves, deciding to make the journey North before the