Amanda drew back from Darcy's kiss. They looked at each other.
Darcy pulled off his left glove and drew from his little finger a small gold band. "Amanda. I give you this as demonstration of my faith. Will you be my wife?"
"Yes. Oh, yes." Amanda trembled as he placed the ring on her engagement finger.
"It was my mother's," Darcy murmured. "It looks well on you."
They stood side by side gazing out at the view: the parterre, the ornamental lake, the autumnal trees lining the horizon.
Darcy turned back to her suddenly. He hesitated, then bent to kiss her again, eyes open, looking searchingly at her. At last he broke free and said, "Your kiss. What you do ... your tongue.. .it is... remarkable."
Amanda thought quickly. Best not to mention the hours spent snogging behind the bike sheds with a variety of lucky sixth form blokes. "It is the way a woman might kiss... her husband," she suggested.
His eyes lit up.
"And we are betrothed," she added, in case he had as yet missed the point.
"Yes," he said. "Show me again."
"Gladly..."
This time his comment was a little fainter. "You inflame my passions."
She burst out laughing, but stifled it. She hugged him close. "I feel the same way. Assuming women here are allowed to have their passions inflamed, that is."
"A married woman," Darcy said pointedly. "-Not that she would ever speak of such a thing."
"-Except with her husband, of course," Amanda added. She fixed him with a hard stare. "With her husband she might share all kinds of intimate things. All kinds of... knowledge." She laughed again. "Your face is a picture. Listen. You know I am not... that I have had... experience. " She raised a hand as he started to speak. "I won't speak of it. Don't worry. But you must realise that this might give me a certain advantage over some blushing young girl terrified at the idea of being taken into your bed."
It was clear that Darcy did indeed realise this. "All this must wait until we are married," he said awkwardly. But his hand lay on the small of her back as they stood, supposedly admiring the scenery. "I would not dishonour myself –or you – by any other suggestion."
"Of course." Damn. "I can wait." Could she? She would have to.
A glint in his eye told her he knew what she was thinking. But he made no remark.
"We still need to get to know each other," she said then. "I don't know anything about you really. What's your favourite food, what were you like as a boy, what are people going to say when we tell them we're getting married?"
He gave a small smile. "French pastries,I could eat them all day – insufferable – and I care not. Does that progress things a little?" He kissed her gloved hand. "And for yourself?"
"Um, ice cream, swotty and always reading, and I can't wait to see the looks on their faces."
She saw again his smile, his shyness mingling with his self assurance.
In the house behind them, a bell began to ring.
"It is time," Darcy said. "You were not expected. You should go to your room, refresh yourself as you need, and I will send for you. We will announce our engagement at breakfast."
"Ok. Yes. I'll wait upstairs." They began to walk towards the house, a modest distance apart. "Darcy-"
He stopped, turned to her enquiringly.
"I'm so happy," she said. "I will try ever so hard not to foul this up." Like last time, she thought.
He bowed. "I will endeavour not to let you. For I am happy too."
They nodded at each other, not touching, and walked into the waiting house.