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His tone conveyed a mixture of disappointment and teasing, and thus Elizabeth responded in kind. “You have met my mother, sir. ‘Foolish, headstrong girl.’ Indeed, those words have been her constant companions, or so I have been told, since the day I was born. It seems I was in no hurry to make my entrance into the world,” Elizabeth exclaimed before remembering herself.

“Headstrong indeed—but foolish, I think not,” Darcy declared. “You are by far one of the most intelligent women I know.”

“I assure you that there are those who would disagree with you. My father, for one, would vigorously argue otherwise.”

“What evidence would he put forth in defence of such a stance?” Darcy asked, his voice disbelieving.

“I am afraid that my papa would refer to my marrying Ben’s father as an illustration of his point.”

Clasping his hands behind his back, Darcy said, “It is my understanding that your late husband hailed from a prominent family—highly regarded among Society. He was a young man of considerable fortune. What father would look unfavourably upon such a match for one of his daughters?”

“His opposition had more to do with my late husband’s age. Papa believed staunchly that a young man, especially one conferred with every blessing that such a young man ought to have, must take time to travel and know the world before taking on the obligations that marriage entailed.”

Here, Darcy ceased walking and encouraged Elizabeth to do likewise. He captured her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Allow me to tell you once more how sorry I am for your loss.”

Elizabeth smiled. There was a time when such sentiments, regardless of how kindly conveyed, evoked a profound longing in her heart. The pain of it all diminished with each passing day. “You are very kind, sir,” she said, pulling back her hand and taking up her former attitude.

“Indeed, I was stubborn in my determination to marry even against the favourite wish of a most beloved parent. But foolish, I shall never teach myself to consider my action as such, for I know without a shadow of a doubt that had I to do it all over again, I would not alter one thing; regardless of how ensuing events unfolded. I may have lost my father’s good opinion, but my son is the fruit of my marriage. There is nothing in the world that is more important to me than being Ben’s mother.”

“Ben is a blessing to everyone whom he meets,” Darcy said at length. “I, for one, am a better man having met him.”

Her spirits rising to playfulness, Elizabeth laced one arm around Darcy’s, clasped her hands, and leaned closer to him as they walked along the path. “Does this mean you now have cause to consider my stubborn nature a virtue rather than a fault?”

“Oh! A virtue absolutely,” he replied, settling an assuring hand upon hers. “I believe I am indebted to you for your stubbornness—an indebtedness I look forward to repaying time and time again if you will but allow it.”

“Mr. Darcy!” Elizabeth proclaimed, “You, sir, are incorrigible.”

Late that night, Geoffrey Collins and Elizabeth sat by the fire. Save the two of them, the household was perfectly still as the children were tucked in their beds, and Mr. and Mrs. Collins had also seen fit to retire.

The gentleman reached for Elizabeth’s hand and cradled it inside both of his. She was not entirely comfortable with this manner of affection although she rather suspected she ought to be. Regardless of the leanings of her heart, Elizabeth had committed herself to a lifetime with the man who sat next to her; not the one who was, by now, a new constant companion in her thoughts—the one whose eyes she had gazed into tenderly mere hours earlier and the one who was some miles away at Rosings Park and most likely suffering emotions akin to her own: Mr. Darcy.

Collins’s voice pierced Elizabeth’s musings. She heard him say, “Moments like these are paramount to me, my dear. Would that the two of us were already man and wife, so that I might demonstrate the strength of my desire for you in ways stronger than this.” He raised her hand to his lips.

Elizabeth wished to withdraw her hand, for this was the same hand Mr. Darcy had kissed earlier upon their parting on their morning walk. She could not. She would not, however, acknowledge her intended’s piercing gaze. Feeling the weight of his stare, she looked instead at the glowing cinders.

This is the life I have chosen for myself, she silently considered. At length, she faced her suitor and smiled, hoping it would be enough to appease him. There are worse fates than being admired by such a man, her thoughts beckoned. He will be a decent husband and a good father for my son.

Collins moistened his lips and gradually leaned closer to Elizabeth.

I am to be married to this man. I dare not twist away. Nor shall I close my eyes and pretend that the lips that inevitably will touch mine are the lips of the man who captivates me. But close my eyes, I must.

Mere moments later, to Collins’s displeasure were Elizabeth to judge by the manner in which he jerked away and approached the mantelpiece, a third party wandered into the room.

“Ben,” Elizabeth cried, her voice a mixture of patience and alarm. He strode straight to her and accepted her affectionate embrace. She cradled his head to her bosom and threw a conciliatory glance at Mr. Collins.

His complexion became pale with anger, and the disturbance of his mind was visible in every feature. “The boy ought to be upstairs asleep in his bed, not here cuddled in your lap,” uttered the aggrieved gentleman as he moved abruptly toward Elizabeth and her son.

Smoothing her son’s unruly hair, she spoke softly. “No doubt, he suffered a nightmare. He is still accustoming himself to being at the parsonage. I shall accompany him to bed and sit with him for a while. That always helps.”

Collins folded one arm over the other. His voice thick with resolve, he demanded, “How do you expect him to grow into a man when you coddle him in this manner?”

Her spirits soaring to defiance, Elizabeth arched her brow. “Ben is my son, and I shall raise him in a manner that I deem proper, sir.”

“As his father, I will have my own opinion on the matter of how the boy is brought up, and you would be imprudent to suppose otherwise.”

Standing with her son, Elizabeth declared, “I do not believe now is the time for such a debate. Pray you will give me leave to retire for the evening.”

“I shall wait for you here, for there is much I would discuss with you before saying goodnight.”