“Are you kidding? I don’t even like all my sisters. Or both of my parents.”
“Yet you think nothing of hopping on a plane or running through the midday heat to help them the minute they need you.” Darcy looked away, though his hand remained, electrically, on her forearm. He said, “If it’s not obvious, I was wrong about a lot of things, too. That morning at your sisters’ apartment, I guess I thought—” He paused. “I thought I needed to be rude to overcompensate for being in love with you. I was afraid that I was chasing you like a schoolboy, and you’d find me corny. But I went much too far in the other direction.”
Simultaneously, Liz felt a rapturous hope at his reference to having been in love with her and a panic that he no longer was. Couldn’t he indicate one way or the other, to put her out of her suffering? It was difficult to speak, but she said slowly, “Caroline told me last night that I’m not allowed to be your girlfriend. Because of my tacky family and all that. But it made me wonder—” Liz hesitated. “It made me wonder if she was mixed up. If she thought you were planning to tell me you were interested in me because she didn’t know you already had.”
Darcy was looking at her with seriousness. He said, “If I told you again that I was interested in you—do you think it would be a good idea?”
Liz nodded. She tried to keep her voice steady as she said, “I’m old enough to know that sometimes you don’t get a second chance.”
“My darling—” Darcy lifted his palm from her arm to her cheek, and she leaned into it; she thought she might weep, and closed her eyes. “I would—I will—give you as many chances as you need. My feelings for you have never changed. And all the mushy things I was too cowardly to say before, they’re just as true now. You’re different from any woman I’ve ever met. Even when you’re arguing with me, you’re easy to be around. And those times you came over to my apartment—those were the most fun I’ve ever had.”
Liz opened her eyes. “You look at diseased brains all day. No offense, but your bar for fun might be kind of low.”
“No,” Darcy said. “It’s not. I used to watch from the window as you left in your running clothes, and I’d think, One of the times she leaves will be the last time I see her. It destroyed me. I didn’t want us to have a last time, and that was how I realized I’d fallen in love with you.”
Such compliments—they were thrilling but almost impossible to absorb in this quantity, at this pace. It was like she was being pelted with a magnificent hail, and she wished she could save the individual stones to examine later, but they’d exist with such potency only now, in this moment. And in any case, the clock was ticking.
She still was holding her bouquet, and in her plum-colored silk pumps, she crouched, setting the flowers on the uneven ground; then she stood again and extended both her arms toward him. After a very brief hesitation, during which Liz silently summoned the guiding spirit of Kathy de Bourgh, he took her hands in his.
“Darcy,” she said. “Fitzwilliam Cornelius Darcy the Fifth. I know your middle name because I googled you. Is that creepy or impressive?”
“Will it hurt your feelings if I say neither?”
She grinned. “Fitzwilliam Cornelius Darcy, I admire you so much. The work you do, the way you literally save lives, how principled you are—you’re the most principled person I know. Even if it means you’re insulting sometimes, you’re the only person I know, me included, who never lies. And you’re amazingly smart, and when you’re not telling harsh truths, you’re incredibly gracious and kind and decent. I love you, Darcy—I ardently love you. And I want to know—” One of them was, or maybe both of them were, shaking; their clasped hands trembled, and inside her chest, her heart thudded. She gazed up at him and said, “I want to know, will you marry me? Will you do me the honor of becoming my husband?”
She hadn’t known he could smile so broadly. He said, “I thought you’d never ask.”
“I don’t have a ring,” she said, “but here.” She bent her head and kissed the lower part of the ring finger of his left hand, which was still joined to her right one.
He was leaning his face down to her, and she was lifting hers to him, when she said, “Oh, and I’ll totally sign a prenup. Obviously, your family has millions of dollars, and mine is borderline destitute, but that has nothing to do with why I want to marry you.”
“How romantic. I think we can figure out those details down the line.”
“And I realize I’ll need to move to Cincinnati. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I don’t even mind. The irony, huh?”
“Liz?”
“Yes?”
“Will you stop talking for a second so I can kiss you properly?”