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by Different Thoughts


  “Yes,” I said immediately, turning fully so that I was in his lap. “Yes, Will, that’s exactly what I want.” I kissed him with feeling.

  ∞∞∞

  “It was obviously your idea,” I argued. “Just because I agreed…”

  “I think, in essence, that’s how marriage proposals work,” he replied, turning to look at me. I knew he was trying to keep things light because I had a history of freaking out over major changes in my relationship status and this was probably the biggest opportunity for me to freak the fuck out.

  “That was my proposal?” I harrumphed. “You didn’t even get down on one knee.”

  “No good?” he asked and I heard the serious twinge in his voice. I replayed the scene over in my head again and smiled in genuine, complete happiness.

  “It was perfect,” I told him with a content sigh.

  He looked at me in surprise. Minutes passed and he didn’t say anything, so I shifted closer to him, tucking my head in the crook of his neck and resting my hand over his heart. I felt it beating fast. Still he was quiet. I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Am I okay?” he repeated a bit incredulously. “Who are you, and what have you done with my commitment-phobe girlfriend?” he demanded.

  “I do hate to be predictable,” I teased, smiling when he scoffed. We were quiet for a few more minutes. “Besides,” I whispered hesitantly. “You really think I haven’t wondered about the possibility that we might spend the rest of our lives together? The idea isn’t exactly coming out of nowhere. I love you. There has never been anyone before you and I can safely say there will not be anyone after you.”

  He shot up, dislodging me from my very comfortable position tucked into his side and breathing my words safely onto his neck. Now we were both sitting up in the bed facing one another; his eyes were almost comically wide as his hands grasped my shoulders tightly, as if he were afraid I would try and get away.

  “Lizzy,” he breathed so reverently, a shiver went down my spine. “Have you really?”

  “Haven’t you?” I asked, starting to feel that familiar panic rise up through my esophagus. My first attempt at being unconcerned rather than terrified with a change in our relationship, a chance to show him I really am trying to change, and I go too far.

  “Yes,” he blurted out, possibly seeing me reverting and wanting to stop it. He cupped my face, crushing his lips to mine and causing me to make a noise of surprise. “Yes, yes, yes,” he whispered, pulling back only to pepper my face and neck with kisses.

  I laughed.

  “Good,” I said, grinning. “Me too.”

  “Lizzy,” he said, kissing my lips again. “I love you.”

  “I love you too,” I said. The words flowed easily, as I now had plenty of practice saying them; Will had practically demanded it of me after I first confessed it, and saying the words brought him such pleasure, how could I not comply?

  “I would marry you today,” he told me, his eyes burning into mine. “I would marry you right now, wearing my shirt and more hungover than I have ever seen you,”

  “Okay,” I told him, laughing.

  “Okay?” He repeated, shocked.

  “Okay,” I smiled, crawling into his lap and putting my forehead against his. “Let’s go get married.”

  “Elizabeth,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes tight. “Please, are you serious?”

  “Yes, Will,” I breathed. “I’m a bit terrified,” I admitted, “but I also really, really want to be Mrs. Darcy by the end of today.”

  “Mrs. Darcy,” he repeated with awe. “I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world, Mrs. Darcy.”

  My throat tightened and though I tried to swallow the sudden lump, it didn’t go anywhere. I cleared my throat instead and forced the words out of my mouth.

  “I love you more than anything or anyone else in the world, Mr. Darcy,” I replied, a tear escaping and sliding down my cheek. Will kissed it away, and soon I was under him and he was peeling his shirt off of me.

  He whispered words of love and devotion on almost every inch of my skin, and I did my best to return the favor. I felt as vulnerable as I have ever felt with anyone else, but pushed the words out because I needed him to hear me say them, and I needed him to know I meant them.

  We didn’t speak much after that. We both got dressed and, after looking up online where we needed to go and what documents we needed to bring, we gathered everything and left the house. On the drive to the courthouse, Will called his lawyer to tell them the news, and start the appropriate paperwork going, including updating all of his accounts so that I was a co-signer. I tried to tell him this was unnecessary, but he just gave me a hard look and I decided not to argue.

  As we were walking up the stairs to the courthouse, however, I stopped him.

  “Will,” I suddenly said, grasping his hand tightly. “I just thought —don’t you want to get a pre-nup before we do this?”

  “A pre-nup?” he asked, aghast. Suddenly his eyes had a cold, disappointed fire in them. “When have I ever given you the impression I wanted to protect my assets from you, or that I don’t already consider that anything and everything I have is also yours?”

  I had never really thought about it, but I already knew my answer.

  “Never,” I said soothingly, stepping into him and squeezing the hand I still grasped. “Never. I was thinking it would be more for the peace of mind of your family. You know I have nothing but a thousand dollars in savings and student loan debts.”

  “A pre-nup is a plan for when we eventually break up. I don’t ever want there to be a possibility that you will leave me one day,” he told me gruffly.

  “You may want to leave me one day, Will,” I pointed out, though I clutched him closer at the thought.

  “No,” he said firmly, confidently. “I won’t.”

  “Neither will I.” I tried to match his confidence. “Let’s go get married.”

  “I don’t want you to have any doubts, Elizabeth,” he said softly. “We can wait until you’re ready.”

  “I am ready,” I assured him, a bit of panic in my voice. “You know I have absolutely no experience with your level of wealth; I only wanted you to know that I would understand if you needed….” I didn’t dare say the word pre-nup again.

  “Fitzwilliam,” I dropped his hand to be able to cup his face. I kissed him softly, and then rested my forehead against his. “Please. I do not have any doubt that you are my soulmate, and I can’t spend another night not being your wife.” That slow, happy grin was back, and it made my heart soar. “That is the only thing I want you to think about when you see me; I never want you to doubt it, or doubt that I feel it.”

  “As long as you promise me the same thing,” he murmured, and then kissed me.

  The actual ceremony with the judge and our witnesses—another couple who were getting married that day—ebbed and flowed in my consciousness. I mostly remember grasping Darcy’s hand for dear life, but smiling at him in a way that I am sure could rival Jane for pure, goofy elation.

  The other thing that stuck out was that he managed to surprise me with a ring when prompted by the judge. He slipped what looked to be a silver band into my palm for when it was my turn to reciprocate, and then, he took my hand to slip a matching ring on my finger.

  The ring was adorned with a simplistic emerald, surrounded by two diamonds. The jewels were all woven together with intricate infinity symbols. I was never much for jewelry, but I have to admit to tearing up at its beauty when he slipped it onto my finger. I could have never imagined that having a matching ring with the man I love could mean so much to me.

  Now, in the car on our way home, I took his left hand in mine as soon as he stopped at a red light and could safely release the wheel.

  “My husband has surprisingly good taste in jewelry,” I told him with bright eyes and an elated smile. He matched my expression.

  “It wasn’t easy, Mrs. Darcy. I
never see you wear much jewelry, so I hoped you would like something simple,” he replied, taking on a questioning tone.

  “I love it,” I breathed, leaning over to kiss him.

  “The matching wedding band needs to be taken in before you wear it. Or, we can go out and pick a new one.” Darcy suggested. I looked down at our matching rings again.

  “I’ll wait. It’s perfect. Where did you find it so fast?” I wondered.

  “It was in the family vault at Pemberley,” he told me. “My great-grandfather James Darcy had it made for his wife Mary. When my grandfather told his parents he wanted to marry my grandmother, Mary gave him the engagement ring. Grandmother Eleanor then gave it to my father. Then, right before my mother died, she made my father promise to give it to me. Of course, he died before I needed it, but he told me the story and where to find them.”

  I looked at the ring in a new light. Whoa. I now owned a piece of Darcy’s family history, and I couldn’t help but wonder if I would one day give it to our son. I blinked away tears, looking back up at him. The look on his face told me he knew my thoughts and I smiled softly, kissing him again.

  “Where are we going?” I asked a minute later, when Darcy was obligated to return his attention to the road.

  “Wherever you want to go,” he replied. “Where would you like to spend our wedding night, Mrs. Darcy?” I laughed lightly from sheer happiness. Would I ever tire of hearing myself be referred to as Mrs. Darcy? I couldn’t imagine I would.

  “My first instinct is to say Pemberley, but it is far too easy to be interrupted there,” I explained with good-natured vexation. “I want to be alone with you, completely alone. No maids, no neighbors, no family and friends popping in.”

  “In that case, I have a place in mind. We own a cabin a few hours’ drive from here, way up in the mountains. The caretaker spends the weekends there for the upkeep,” he told me. “We would have to pick up some supplies, but then we could be alone.”

  “We own it, do we?” I couldn’t help but tease.

  He looked at me searchingly; the one thing that constantly came between us was his wealth and my resistance to it. I grinned to show him I was in no mood to argue about something that suddenly seemed so trivial and he relaxed into his own happy grin.

  “You make me so happy, Darcy,” I told him.

  “You make me so happy, Mrs. Darcy,” he grinned back.

  I laughed again.

  “To think, we might not be here if you didn’t insist on wearing a suit everywhere you went,” I teased him.

  “In that case, I will have to make sure I have a plethora of suits, for every and any occasion,” he said.

  “You just want your wife to have to dress you for social outings,” I accused him, my heart full to bursting.

  “Yes.” He turned to me, eyes bright. “I need my wife in every capacity.”

  “She needs you, too,” I whispered back. “In fact, she needs you to drive fast, because she already wants to be alone with you.”

  “She shouldn’t tell me those things if she wants me to keep her safe,” Darcy warned, his eyes darkening. “I might not be able to keep my eyes and mind on the road.”

  “Perhaps we should make a pit stop, then, Mr. Darcy.” I swallowed, suddenly flushed with heat.

  “You always have the best ideas, Mrs. Darcy,” he said in a low, deep voice that caused my stomach to clench. He pulled the car off at the next exit.

  So, we didn’t make it to the cabin that night.

  I told him as long as I no longer had to sneak out and take a cab home, I found I didn’t mind.

  ∞∞∞

 

 

 


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