Slight AU from cannon where Darcy doesn't return after Lady Catherine meeting with Elizabeth (he's not sure what to think, too scared to hope), but Bingley gets engaged and Darcy decides to brave it for the wedding. Elizabeth has started to think of all the reasons why she couldn't accept Darcy even if he was crazy enough to still love her. They inevitably get thrown together on a walk while chaperoning the engaged couple and Darcy decides he can hold his tongue no longer because Elizabeth seems to have warmed to him slightly...

They had far outstripped Charles and Miss Bennet when Mr. Darcy felt his desperation rise. Without warning, the words started spilling from his mouth.

"Miss Elizabeth, we are both aware of my inability to read people, my past mistakes in this rather glaring," he admitted with chagrin. "But I...I have come to hope that not only have you forgiven me, but you might also hold some inkling of affection for me?"

Darcy paused in his speech to gauge the reaction of the woman on his arm. Her bonnet shielded her face from his gaze.

Feeling he needed to see her face to know her thoughts, Darcy stopped their progress along the path and softly eased Elizabeth's chin upward.

The tears in her eyes shattered his heart and forced him to release her, stepping back quickly.

"Your meaning is quite plain, madam. I will trouble you no more." The pain was apparent in his voice.

He knew he must get away from her swiftly. Perhaps Bingley would understand and allow him to miss the wedding. He must depart at once.

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth cried out and stopped his retreat.

He reminded himself that he owed her this at least and turned to receive her latest lecture.

The tears coursed freely down her face now and it startled Darcy to see. He instinctively withdrew his handkerchief from his waistcoat and handed it to Elizabeth before he remembered she might not want such a token. Gratefully, she took it anyway.

After dabbing away a few tears, she began.

"Mr. Darcy, I believe it would be fairer to you if I did not do this, but I find I must. Perhaps it will aid you to know…"

Elizabeth stopped to breathe deeply for a moment, her hands wrung the handkerchief between them, clearly uncomfortable.

Suddenly her breath caught on a sob and she turned from him, a hand covering her mouth to stifle the sound. Darcy was acutely aware she needed some comfort, but he was at a complete loss as to know what to do.

But a moment later, Elizabeth straightened her shoulders and she faced him once more, determined to finish her piece. Her free hand dashing away tears before nervously smoothing her skirt.

"I confess that my motive is largely selfish, I could not bear you living in this world and not knowing…not knowing the truth of my feelings."

Mr. Darcy's confusion only increased. One such as Miss Elizabeth need not feel such pain while doing her best to kindly correct his course. Hearing nothing but reproofs from her for the remainder of his days would be better than not seeing her at all.

"Miss Elizabeth, I—"

"Mr. Darcy, I love you," Elizabeth said, forcefully interrupting him.

Rendered speechless and immobile, he simply stared at her. She loved him? The barest hint of smile peeked through as the ice that had been in Darcy's chest since April started to thaw.

There was hope at last.

She had watched his reaction most closely, but did not wait long enough to allow him to form a reply. It seemed to Darcy, by the set of her shoulders, that she was gathering her courage and setting aside her emotions to continued on.

"Knowing this, I do not know if it changes your earlier sentiments, but I must inform you that if you were to continue down that course of conversation and ask for my hand…I would resoundingly decline."

The warmth blossoming in Darcy's chest turned cold.

"P-pardon me, Miss Elizabeth? There is…there is no hope for me then?"

The courage that she had built up seemed to falter as she glanced back to her wringing hands and the tears returned to her eyes. She did not speak.

Darcy tried again, forming words before he fully thought of them.

"Your l-love for me, is…is not enough?"

At this, her sobs returned and Elizabeth sought to hide her face behind her hands.

Almost without thought, Darcy reached out and placed his hands carefully on Elizabeth's shoulders. Her obvious agony reminded him forcefully of a distraught Georgiana.

Roused by the contact, she flung her arms around his middle and Darcy found himself holding Miss Elizabeth in his arms for the first time.

The warmth he felt fought hard with his confusion and hurt and the overwhelming feeling that he needed to comfort her. Comfort won out and he found himself lightly rubbing her back and shushing her gently. Thought seemed to be momentarily suspended as his focus turned to the feel of her in his arms and her overwhelming tears.

With her head still buried in his chest, she began to speak again.

"No, Mr. Darcy. My love for you is enough. Enough to know that..." she pulled away to meet his gaze.

His breath caught at the beauty in her glistening eyes.

"My family and I do not deserve you. I could never condemn you to a life shackled to such impropriety. To be Wickham's brother..." she huffed, angry now, and pulled out of his embrace to begin to pace.

It reminded Darcy of himself, and he smiled a moment, watching her.

"It would be insupportable, Mr. Darcy, to welcome that man in any way." Turning from her path, she faced him head on. "I love you enough to know I cannot have you. You must forget about me and find someone with all the accomplishments Mrs. Darcy must have. Find someone who will be kind to Miss Georgiana and who loves you dearly. You deserve that, Mr. Darcy. Not my ridiculous family."

Her words sat heavy in the air for a moment as Darcy struggled to wade through the elation and pain her words caused. It was so bittersweet to hear about Elizabeth's love for him along with a rejection worse than the first one. It was beholding the beauty of the rose whilst gripping the thorns tightly.

Frantically pulling his thoughts together, Darcy grasped at the biggest perceived issue.

"Elizabeth, I do not care about Wick—"

"No," She cut him off again. "Do not try to convince me otherwise. He is a blight on any family and I refuse to let him be so to yours."

"He's already imposed upon my—"

"I will not hear it. Plus there is my family's status to contend with."

"Fine," he decided to change tactics, "but I do not care about your family's connections or wealth either. I have—"

"Nooo," she practically wailed. Her shoulders sagged for a moment before she stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest, clearly firm in her ideas.

"Mr. Darcy. I have thought through all of these arguments and I know you have your rebuttal, but it will not sway me. My mind is made up and I am most stubborn."

Frustration filled Darcy, his hands clenching, as he tried desperately to think a way through her argument.

"But what of my feelings for you? Are they to be so inconsequentially brushed aside?" he asked her, practically glaring at her now as his anger rose.

"Of course not, Mr. Darcy. Which is why I had to share mine as well. You deserve to know that you are quite capable of inspiring love in a woman and I am positive you shall be able to do so again. You will forget about me, Mr. Darcy, and love a woman more suitabl—"

"No."

It was his turn to cut off her speech. The anger in his voice must have surprised her because she did not speak.

"No. I will not love another. You have not been party to my thoughts and feelings these past months, Miss Elizabeth, but if you had, you would know that is an impossibility."

Again, the edge in his voice and the set of his shoulders rendered her speechless and he continued on.

"After Kent, I was angry, but that quickly gave way to mortification and I was humbled. You were right about me and I had to take action to change and be the man my parents always thought I could be. I did not think I would ever see you again, but I knew I would never forget you and the help you rendered to see me corrected."

He started to pace along the path, his anger requiring movement.

"I foolishly thought that was the only part you would play in my life, but then I saw you at Pemberly and I thought I was dreaming. I had imagined you on the grounds and in those rooms a million times, speaking kind reproofs and encouragements to me. It was not until I saw you there that I realized that I loved you more than any man should feel. There was no banishing you from my mind. I would always be seeking your approval and working to be a man worthy of you, even if you would never have me."

He stopped on the gravel strewn path, ground he wasn't sure he should see as cursed or hallowed, to deliver his final sentiments.

"When the news of Lydia came I knew that I had lost you forever. How on Earth could you ever come to love a man who so horrendously ruined the lives of the people you love? But I came back for Bingley's wedding, and you…"

He took a step forward and unconsciously reached out.

"You were grave at first, but then you smiled at me. Like you never have before."

Cursing himself, he pulled his hands back to his sides and clenched them in frustration, knowing he was not explaining as eloquently as he hoped. He had to make her see.

"Elizabeth, you own me body and soul. I only approached you again because you seemed to be warming to my attentions. But I would have left after Bingley's wedding, without saying a word if you did not feel the same way. I was fully prepared to live every day without you, completely devoted to you. I was already making plans to see my solicitor in London and transfer my inheritance to Georgiana and her future family. I was prepared to meet as casual acquaintances for the rest of our lives and…and to take these feelings to the grave."

He stared hopelessly at her, trying to convey every thought and feeling.

"Elizabeth, I am now faced with only two futures. One where we part ways and I…live my life without companionship. And one where you make me the happiest man in the world. There is only one option for my wife and if you will not have me, I will not take a wife. It is as simple as that."

Elizabeth gaped at him.

The distance between them on the path started to feel like an impassable chasm. Darcy had glimpsed his future with Elizabeth on the other side mere moments ago, but the distance was only widening between what he hoped and dreamed for and where they stood.

"Mr. Darcy, I—"

"Fitzwilliam."

"Pardon?"

Darcy sighed.

"My given name."

He nervously twisted the ring on his right hand as he explained.

"If this is the last time we have such an intimate conversation, I would ask that you would let me hear you use it." He felt himself blush, but he refused to look away from her.

"Fitzwilliam," she murmured and then smiled. "I did not know your Christian name until now."

She seemed to catch herself and remembered the magnitude of their conversation. She cleared her throat awkwardly.

Looking away from his intense gaze she said, "Fitzwilliam, your feelings may be so now, but—"

"I do not know how to further emphasize that my feelings for you are immovable, Elizabeth," he said somewhat patronizingly.

She held up a hand in acknowledgement.

"Your feelings may not change, but your resentment towards me and my family could grow to outweigh it."

He watched her unconvinced, so she continued.

"Say we marry, your family could very well cut you before the ton. Lady Catherine has all but declared that inevitable. The Wickhams," she said in disgust, "will not cease to ask for assistance or funds. Knowing both of them as we do, that is not impossible to imagine. My mother," she laughed bitterly, "will undoubtedly cause some sort of public embarrassment. I myself will most likely commit some social faux pas, due to my ineducation."

Her voice filled with the hopelessness she was obviously feeling.

"All of these things on their own could be manageable, but taken together and I am positive resentment will grow. I do not want to enter into a marriage where someone I l-love," her voice broke, "so dearly, could come to desire to be free of me." Her tears started once more.

Darcy's mind raced and his heart ached. He ruefully thought of Icarus. To have flown so high, to know she loves him, but to ultimately still be lost at sea. He had been very close to the freedom of her love. It was agony.

He fought for the words to come, anything he might say that would assuage her fears and let them be blissfully happy. But from knowing Elizabeth, he did not think there were words that could make this right. He felt great disquiet at the conclusion.

"I see you will not be moved today," he murmured softly.

"Nor any day hence."

He nodded, deep in thought.

"Might I escort you back to the house?" He mechanically offered his arm to her, his mind ensnared elsewhere.

Thankfully she took it and they turned back to Longbourn. The return journey saw them both deep in internal reverie with no words spoken between them.

Fifteen minutes later, as the house came into view, another idea struck Darcy.

He blurted out, "May I court you, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I—what?" Elizabeth gasped, drawing up short.

Darcy shook his head, amazed at his continued insensitivity.

"It would serve two purposes," he explained, shifting her hold on his arm so he was holding her hand between both of his. "Selfishly, I would get to spend time with you without hurting your reputation. You could break it off later with little but idle gossip in return. And secondly, I wish for us to get to know one another better."

His gaze intensified as he brought her gloved hand up to his mouth for a kiss.

"I have surmised that only time and constancy of my affections will convince you that whatever obstacles you perceive can be overcome. I am not the man who so carelessly altered the lives of the people around him or carried such disdain for those perceived to be lower than himself. My affections and wishes will not change, and I suspect will only grow."

"Mr. Darcy—"

"Fitzwilliam, my love. At least when we're alone."

Elizabeth stared at Darcy, seemly unable to respond.

"Please," Darcy whispered softly, knowing he was not asking just about his name.

He watched the emotions well up in her eyes, but thankfully no more tears fell.

"Fitzwilliam, you cannot say things like that." Her voice was surprisingly light and Darcy knew she needed some levity from their feelings.

He smiled in amusement.

"Like what?"

"You know perfectly well 'like what,' sir."

"I cannot say that you are the handsomest woman of my acquaintance? And that Georgiana was delighted with you and has hinted that it is high time she has a sister? I can't say that if you agreed to a courtship and then marriage, that I would do everything in my power to ensure you had such extraordinary sources of happiness attached to your situation?"

Elizabeth's answering smile faltered, causing Darcy's to slip as well.

"Give us time, my dear. I feel confident that once you know the depth of my feelings, you would not borrow such trouble by imagining a future that I can assure you will never come."

Elizabeth looked at their hands clasped between them and did not speak.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Trust me to know my own heart, Elizabeth."

She looked up at him with a spark of hope in her eyes and Darcy could not stop the heartfelt delight suffusing his face. The warmth blossomed in his chest once more.

"I promise you will have no cause to repine. And nor will I."

After a moment, Elizabeth bowed her head and Darcy felt her kiss upon the back of his gloved hand.

"Yes."

Fin