Page 45 of Pride, Prejudice, & Pretense

He stared at her hard, as if testing her words against her expression. "I take it you don’t mean the deconstructed banana split you had.” There was a beat of silence between them. “Wickham's charms are real, I grant that. Not real in the sense that they reveal the deeper man, but real in the sense that they are present and effective.”

Another beat. “Kellynch explained that you were recently back from a deep-cover assignment with no time to decompress. Facing someone like Wickham when you're…not at your best, it isn't easy. You've done a good job. But then, you have charms, too, real in both senses, although Wickham will never know that." Darcy seemed to be predicting and promising. It seemed like a genuine compliment might be lurking in all his words.

She smiled, and her annoyance lessened. They chatted for a while about the debriefing the night before, about Wickham…all in low voices, intimately. Lizzy continued to relax. The restaurant began to fill.

They ordered, and the meal came. The food was delicious, simple, and hearty. Not showy like the food at Alinea. NoEyes Wide Shutundertone of creepy debauchery that Wickham had orchestrated.

"I chose the location of Fanny's apartment partly to be close to this place," Darcy noted after a lull in the conversation and a long, oddly jerky sip of Chianti. His hand seemed to be shaking, but Lizzy considered it to be just an illusion from the candlelight. "What do you think of the food?"

"I like it better than tobacco-cured potato crisps I ate last night," she said, chuckling. "No, seriously, these cannelloni are wonderful! The sauce is perfect."

Darcy smiled. "Good." He tugged on the lapels of his jacket, his hands fidgeting, straightening. His fidgeting was not a trick of the candlelight. A scan of the room preceded a determined nod. "Okay, we have an adequate audience. Are you ready?"

"Now? Before dessert?" Lizzy was surprised both by his timing and by his real agitation over a fake proposal.

"Yes, I want to do it while I still have Ned's proposal in mind. I wrote it out today. I’m often better on paper than in person.”

Shocked, unprepared for his preparation and nervous energy, Lizzy watched, her lips parted, as he stood, straightened his jacket again, and then produced a small blue box from his pocket. He looked at her with warm, enveloping adoration. She could feel her heartbeat, her whole body registering her pulse.

In a moment, gracefully, he was on one knee beside her. Knee bent but back straight. Everyone in the restaurant had noticed him standing and then kneeling. Darcy and Lizzy had their audience. The sound of dining died down as the customers listened. Sinatra warbledI See Your Face Before Me.

He spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear. "Fanny Prince, from the first time I saw you, I was smitten. You didn't know that, of course, but I was. I didn't know it either…not at first. I’m sometimes slow to understand myself. We quarreled, remember? But we got past the quarrel. And we now happily share ownership of that disputed copy ofWives and Daughters."Lizzy laughed. Darcy did, too. He looked younger and more carefree than she had imagined he could, as if the proposal was revitalizing him.

"Here's what I know: I can't stop imagining a life with you. I want to stop merely imagining one and start living one. Fanny Prince, my darling Fanny, will you marry me?"

He opened the box. The ring was small and plain, but bright and shining.

Will you marry me?Her heartbeat almost made her deaf to the final words, blood whooshing in her ears.

All around her were big anticipatory smiles. Red and white checks. Votive candles flickered happily, arrayed like stars, glorious. Gangsters glared down from the walls as if gentlyextorting her answer. The universe organized itself around their small table.

At the center of it all, Darcy smiled up at her, the ardent emotion on his face absolutely convincing, the most method of Method actors, his acting undetectable.Perfect.

"Yes, Ned," Fanny said, rising, her voice quiet at first and then louder. "Yes, I'll marry you."

She extended her left hand as she spoke, a pledge. Lizzy’s.

No, Fanny’s.

Ned reached out and took Fanny's hand. Lizzy felt the dampness of Darcy's palm. He had the ring in his other hand, and he slipped it deliberately on her ring finger. It fit her as exactly as all her cover clothes did. She suddenly knew who had arranged for them to suit her and Fanny as perfectly as they did.

Darcy stood, lifted Lizzy to her feet and into in his arms, and kissed her. He sold the kiss to the restaurant, and he sold it to Lizzy. It felt real. The other customers broke into applause around them, but she was only distantly aware of it, auditory background. In the tactile foreground were the touch of Darcy's lips on hers and the touch of Darcy's ring encircling her finger. The two touches shaped her world.

He kept her hand as she seated herself again. She reached for her Chianti and took a quick sip between swollen lips. She felt the breathless, fiery blush on her face and hoped he did not take it for anything but embarrassment at her part in the charade.

Darcy studied her again. "That went well, don't you think?" he asked in a whisper as he sat down, leaning toward her and gently releasing her hand.

She nodded, unable to speak.

A foundation of fact.

BOOK THREE: Fanny and Ned

One night to be confused

One night to speed up truth

We had a promise made

---