OK, I admit it, I’m a sceptic about romance, and the whole prince coming to rescue the imprisoned princess, but if you are looking for a real life example that actually worked out, then the case of Elizabeth Barrett Browning is hard to deny. Hers might have been a classic Victorian romantic story. Educated as a precocious hothouse flower, under the heavy arm of a classic paterfamilias who’d certainly worry social services today, she formed a secret attachment with a fellow poet that led to her elopement to Italy. Were the Victorian morality tale to be followed through, this would have ended in disaster, but this is a rare such story with a completely happy ending. (She even got to take her beloved dog with her.)

The story is now told – complete with many of its original artefacts – at the British Library, in an exhibition entitled How do I love thee? That title comes, of course, from possibly her most famous work, which was voted Britain’s “favourite love poem” in 1997. It is from a collection entitled Sonnets from the Portugese, which describes the flowering of her love for Robert Browning, during the last months of their secret courtship. (“My Little Portugese” was his nickname for her. ) The exhibition text reports that it went through more than 100 editions in the 20th century.

It was a long journey from the 12-year-old who wrote Battle of Marathon , which she called “my darling project” — four books in heroic couplets — that was inspired by Pope’s translation of Homer. Her father had 50 copies printed privately for her 14th birthday.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, this carefully nurtured hothouse prodigy was, by the time she reached her early 30s, quite a mess, her mental state not helped by the sudden, unexpected death of two brothers in 1840 – Samuel in Jamaica of a fever and Edward, drowned in a British boating accident. She decribed it as a period of “hopeless madness”, and she spent almost all of her time in her room, doped up at night with opium

Then came her prince. Robert Browning had admired her work before they met, his first letter to her (displayed here) on 10 Jan 1845 saying: “I love your verses with all my heart”. They had much in common, including literary friends and a passion for Greek literature, and they were soon writing several times a day.

Her doctor advised Elizabeth to travel to Italy for her health, but her father would not allow it, so the couple eloped to Italy on 19 September 1846, seven days after their marriage. With them went her beloved spaniel Flush (whose biography Virginia Woolf would write).

Of their honeymoon in Paris, Elizabeth wrote she was “living in a dream”. Even four miscarriages didn’t end that, and the fairy story was complete when at the age of 44 she gave birth to a healthy son.

After their marriage the couple were never separated for a full day. On display is a one-page note, written in Florence in 1849. It may be the only letter between the married couple. “Baby” being worrying ill was the subject.

Otherwise, there are many personal letters saying how happy her marriage is, and how unhappy the dog is being made by fleas. “He tears off his pretty curls due to the irritation. Do you know of a remedy?” she wrote to Mary Russell Midford in 1847.

After this married life of great happiness, and a hugely successful career as a poet, Elizabeth Barrett Browning died 29 June 1861 in her husband’s arms. She was buried in the Protestant cemetery in Florence on 1 July. Her “prince” had done all he’d promised. (Doesn’t happen very often!)

The exhibition continues until April 5. Links: The British Library’s account of the exhibition; the Guardian Culture Vulture’s view; the the Browning Society.