Page 113 of The Secret Diary of Anne de Bourgh

That made me laugh, though I was not quite ready to forgive him everything.

He told me more about the visit to Rosings then. I had heard an account of that visit before, but never this one.

Mr Byerly had admired the house and grounds exactly as Richard had said. He had also spoken of what a pleasure it would be to restore the house to its proper place in the neighbourhood, with company and entertainments and a mistress who could take pride in it all.

“I kept remembering you telling me about Longbourn,” Richard said. “The smaller rooms, and your wish for a garden you could tend yourself. Byerly was describing a life which would make you miserable, and I had helped persuade you to consider him.”

“Why did you not tell me?”

Richard hesitated. “I thought you loved him by then.”

I could only stare at him.

“You had seemed so pleased by his attentions,” he continued. “He brought you things, and you talked about books, and I thought—”

“That I must be in love with him because I had agreed to speak to him?”

“When you put it like that, it sounds remarkably foolish.”

“It was,” I said firmly.

Richard accepted this judgement without argument.

He said that he had tried to discover whether I was happy, but had not known how to ask without betraying feelings he believed he had no right to express. When I told Darcy that I did not love Mr Byerly, he had scarcely trusted what he heard.

“But that was weeks ago,” I said.

“I know.” Richard shifted in his chair, stretching his leg a little. “By then there was another difficulty. I could not bear to have you suppose that I sought your fortune as a means of escaping James.”

“I should never have thought that of you.”

“I hoped you would not.” He met my eyes again. “But it mattered to me.”

I considered that. I did not like the thought that he had suffered doubts of his own while I was so certain he had none.

“And now?” I asked.

“Now I have a home to offer you, and the means to maintain it.” His usual humour returned. “Though I am afraid I remain older than Byerly, and my leg is unlikely to improve merely because I have become a landowner.”

“I do not want Mr Byerly’s leg.”

Richard began to laugh. I had not intended it to be funny, but then I was laughing too, and it was a great relief after so many tears.

“I want you,” I told him. “I have wanted you for a very long time.”

He moved closer and asked whether he might kiss me.

I said that I thought he ought to.

I shall not attempt to describe it. I have never written anything in this book with the expectation that another person would read it, but I find that I wish to keep a little of yesterday entirely to myself.

When we were sitting quietly again, Richard observed that I had not actually answered his proposal.

“I have told you that I love you,” I reminded him.

“Which has made me very happy.” He raised my hand to his lips again. “Nevertheless, I should like to hear you say that you will marry me.”

So I said it, and he kissed me again.