A faint, rueful smile touched his lips. “I thought I had only to ask, and I would receive.”
Elizabeth’s expression softened.
“But I understand now that love is far more than wanting someone. It is not merely the happiness another person gives you.” He looked at her. “It is protecting them. It is considering their needs before your own. It is wishing for their happiness even when it requires sacrifice.”
His voice became quieter. “I thought love meant that I wished to make you mine.”
A pause.
“Now I know it means that I wish to make you happy.”
Elizabeth’s eyes filled slightly.
“I do not wish to love you as I did before.”
He shook his head. His fingers tightened gently around hers.
“And I do not want only to be loved by you. I want to care for you. To stand beside you. To be the person you can trust when the world becomes difficult.”
He looked at her with complete honesty.
“I want you, Elizabeth.”
A breath.
“But more than that…”
His voice softened.
“I want you to choose me.”
Elizabeth looked away for a moment.
“But what of the scandal?”
The question was quiet, but Darcy heard the concern behind it.
“The family will still be spoken of. People will still judge.”
“Yes.”
She looked back at him. “And you?”
Darcy was silent for a moment.
A year ago, that question would have troubled him more than he wished to admit. He would have considered every consequence, every whisper, every opinion formed in drawing rooms by people who knew nothing of the truth. He did have an unmarried sister.
But so much had changed.
“We have done what we can.”
Elizabeth watched him carefully.
“Your family is leaving Longbourn. Miss Lydia has been removed from the situation. Wickham will answer for his actions.” He glanced down at their joined hands. “There is no action left to take merely to satisfy the opinions of others.”
“But society…”
“Society will always have something to say.” There was no bitterness in his voice. Only certainty. “I have spent too much of my life allowing the imagined opinions of others to influence what I ought to do.”