Let's hear it for 50+ reviews! Thanks guys! Longer chapter this time- 3 full pages on Word.

Elizabeth POV

The next day I departed from Netherfield. I dreaded leaving my dear Fitzwilliam, but I secretly knew that soon I would never have to leave him again. My family was glad to have me back, but my mother kept questioning why I left. "Mother," I said impatiently, "Miss Darcy needed my help with something and had requested to spend some time with me. I did not want to disappoint my friend." It wasn't a complete lie, she had needed my help, even if she herself hadn't requested for me. "I see," she said. Ever since Fitzwilliam and I started courting, my mother had all but refused to talk to me, which was unusual, because I would have thought that she would have nothing to comment on but his fortune. My theory is that my mother is minutely afraid of Mr. Darcy.

Longbourn was in such a commotion over the engagement of Jane and the approaching wedding of Mary. Kitty and Lydia were fighting for the attention they held previously and were very persistent. My father was, as always, in his sanctuary, away from all of the women.

"Jane, I am so happy for you," I said to her that night as we sat in our bed talking. "Oh, Lizzie, Charles is so wonderful. I feel as though I might die of excitement!" she said, "Now we must get Mr. Darcy to propose to you!" I blushed, trying not to let her know I had a secret, but she knew, as any sister does.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression before it changed to surprise and said, "Lizzie! Did he..? Are you engaged to Mr. Darcy!" I colored more and replied, "No, Jane, I am not. Not yet." I knew my face still showed that I was hiding something. "Yet? There is something you are not telling me?" she asked. So I told her. I told her of how I had eavesdropped on Charles and Fitzwilliam, and that he planned to propose to me soon. I also informed her that a letter was given to our father regarding the manner. "Does Mr. Darcy know that you are aware of his plans?" asked Jane. "No, he has no idea that I know he is going to propose."

"Forgive me for taking away attention from your engagement," I teased, "Mrs. Bingley!" Jane hit me softly with a pillow and looked at me mischievously before blowing out the candle. Once our chatter had died down, Jane fell asleep quickly, as I could tell by her steady breath. I thought once more of Fitzwilliam and I too succumbed to sleep's sweet solitude, dreaming of what was to come.

The next morning, Tuesday, I finished unpacking my things and helped poor Mary with keeping Mama distracted. Mary was never the center of attention before, and I could tell she felt uncomfortable being treated so. Whenever Mama was being too loud or having nothing to do, I would remind her of something she may have forgotten to do. Then she would walk off, exclaiming, "Two daughters to be married! Oh my!" I wondered at how she would react in a few days when she learned that I will be married to Fitzwilliam. Not only will she have three daughters married off, one of them secures our family to Longbourn while the other two are married to affluent men! I will be glad for any peace that may come into our household.

I spent the rest of the either with Jane, reading, or attempting to embroider a handkerchief. I did not have the patience or the steady hand to decorate it with a pattern that resembled anything remotely recognizable. I found that I could not concentrate on reading today. My current read was a book borrowed from Georgiana. It was a child's book, but it was in French, so I tried to translate it.

Near three in the afternoon, a carriage from Netherfield approached our home, and I thought that it could be Fitzwilliam. I rushed out with Jane to discover who it was. My hopes were in vain, for it was not Fitzwilliam, but Mr. Bingley who stepped out of the carriage. "Miss Elizabeth, Jane, how do you do this afternoon?" The question seemed to be aimed only at Jane, but that was only to be expected. Both Jane and Mr. Bingley were such kind and caring people. I retreated and let them have some time together.

It was then that I ventured into my father's study, where I knew I was always welcome. I knocked on the door and poked my head in, "Papa?" He looked up from the papers he was reading and hastily shoved them into the drawer. "Lizzie! What is on your mind, child?" he asked nervously. I smiled to myself. I believed he may have been reading the note from Mr. Darcy and he was probably expecting me to be asking for his permission right now.

"Nothing in particular, I just came here because Mr. Bingley has just arrived and I did not want to be bothering Jane." I said. My father looked as though he was lost in a train of thought. "Oh. Good. Now Lizzie, how is it that you have not come to me in a while because of a scrape on your knee after falling from a tree, or running in here after chasing the animals around the yard?" I was surprised at this question. It was true, I hadn't come to him complaining of an injury or telling him stories of beating the animals in races. "Papa, I'm not a little girl anymore. I have grown up," I answered. He looked forlorn as he replied, "Yes, I suppose you have."

I gave him a kiss on the forehead and left him, touched that he missed my childhood antics. I knew I was his favorite daughter and that he would be hurt that soon he will no longer hold the first place in my heart. These are the thoughts I pondered as I sat through the afternoon, as I ate dinner silently, and as I fell asleep. My dearest Fitzwilliam was now the most important man in my life, and while it made me happy to the point of screaming, another part of me felt sad that my father would no longer be so prevalent in my life.

The next morning I slept late. I do not know why no one woke me, but as soon as I finished dressing, Mrs. Hill knocked and alerted me that Mr. Darcy was here to see me. I all but ran down the stairs to see him. "Elizabeth," he said as he saw me, his voice just above a whisper. "Good morning, Fitzwilliam," I said, "I have not yet taken my morning walk, would you like to join me?" He agreed, "Yes, of course."

We wandered out on our walk and I noticed that as we talked, Mr. Darcy became increasingly more nervous. I knew he was going to propose to me, but I tried not to let him know. What I did not notice until we had arrived was that he was slowly leading us towards the same clearing that we had so often talked about such serious things in. I was delighted that he too thought it was a special place for us.

I sat down on the fallen tree as I had done before, and all conversation seemed to have stopped. We were having a discussion on a book we had both read from the Netherfield library when we both just stopped talking. Fitzwilliam stood facing away from me for a moment before turning around and lifting his eyes from the ground to look at me.

"What have I done to deserve you, Elizabeth? You are remarkable—in all aspects. You are beautiful, sincere, and not afraid to speak your mind. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that I would have the chance to say this to you." Here he moved forward to kneel on one knee in front of me and he took my hand and stroked in for a moment. "I would delighted to never separate from you again, to be with you always, if you would just… marry me?"

I took his hand in both of mine and held his fingers before curling them with mine. "Yes, Fitzwilliam, I will marry you!" I said, the last words being drowned in my happy tears. I did not know exactly what happened next, but I soon found myself being spun around in my fiancé's arms. After he set me down, he still held me close and I gazed up at him.

"Fitzwilliam," I started," I want to be honest with you. I was not planning on telling you this, but…I must commend Bingley- he is a better secret keeper than you thought." I watched his thought process before he understood and responded with a surprised tone in his voice, "What? You knew I was going to propose?" I nodded, "Yes darling, but that did not make it any less special." "How did you find out? Did he tell you?" he questioned. "No, do not blame Mr. Bingley. My keen ears picked up yet another thing I was not supposed to hear." I said, alluding to the things I had overheard him say in the past.

"Well, I shall be careful to make sure you aren't around next time I have a secret," he teased. I responded in a joking voice, "You should not keep secrets from your wife, Fitzwilliam, or else she shall have to leave you!" "Very well then, Elizabeth, here is a secret," he said. "And what would that be?" He looked into my eyes and I felt as though they pierced my very soul, unleashing the love that lived there. He leaned closer and slowly whispered, "I love you." Then I kissed him, or maybe he kissed me. Either way, I knew that this was the man I was destined to be with forever.

Here is a shout out to all you propriety fans and followers of historically accurate social etiquette: I'm sorry, I know they would not have kissed, but I had to. I just had to. I hope you understand.