Chapter Text
"Fitzwilliam!" Elizabeth laughed as she practically skipped to keep up with the pace his long legs were setting. "You seem very eager to get me out to the garden."
"Forgive me, my love." He slowed, but did not explain his enigmatic smile.
He also did not maintain the leisurely pace they usually enjoyed at this point of the day, when the sun was hot in the sky. She had always believed she preferred a brisk walk, but that was before her husband - now, she relished when they meandered together, taking in the beauty of nature and each other while arm in arm, or hand in hand, as if time held no power over them. She knew he was up to something, of course, but she enjoyed the boyish light of mischief in his eyes far too much to pry. She was content to be led wherever he wished to take her.
They did not go far - across the lawn and toward the river, until they came to a small table and chairs, a picnic basket waiting on top. Elizabeth exclaimed her delight, but found it odd he seated her facing the road to the stables instead of toward the more picturesque view. He noted her puzzled expression and caressed her cheek.
"Will you indulge me?"
Unable to deny any request he made so earnestly, she nodded. He kissed her in gratitude before setting out the food.
They spoke easily, warmly, while enjoying their repast. Several times she caught her husband looking at her peculiarly, eyes brimming with emotion. She knew he would speak of it when he was ready, so she did not ask, but reassured him in the other ways she had learned over the months of their marriage: fond smiles, lingering touches, sprinkling teases and jokes into their conversation.
When they had both eaten their fill, Darcy pulled out a small jewelry case wrapped in a bow and slid it across the table. "Happy anniversary, my love."
Surprised, Elizabeth looked up at him - they had married in the winter, after all. Then the moment of confusion passed, and she realized what he meant: he had positioned them in the same place as when they had encountered each other during her tour of Pemberley, giving them the same view they each had then. "You dear man," she scolded him. "I do not need a gift. I have nothing for you."
He reached across the table to take her hand. "You have given me everything, Elizabeth. Sitting here, allowing me to see you here - again - it is what I desired but dared not hope for, that day. You know I wished to keep you here."
Overcome, she stood and leaned over the table to bestow a lingering kiss. "Are you sure here is precisely where you want to keep me just now?"
It was not long before they retired to their rooms.