Chapter 1

"...and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."

Her declaration hit him like a brick. He tried to process the sense of loss, the hurt, the anger, but it was too much. The fire in her eyes burned so furiously as she delivered the final blow. He finally understood. He had been a fool, and she hated him. The despair welling up inside him made the world beyond them disappear. She was standing so close. In her fury she had come within an arm's span of him, and he could smell the earthy scent of her, heightened by the rain. Conscious thought was disregarded as he leaned closer, almost unable to breathe. Eyes flicking down to her lips, mind blank, he closed the space between them.

She was stunned at the electricity that coursed through her as her lips were suddenly captured. Her breath caught, and she was momentarily overwhelmed by the pleasurable warmth that ran through her body. All too soon, however, her mind caught up, and she furiously did battle with her conflicting feelings: anger at his presumption and confusion at her body's reaction. Gathering her wits, she pressed her hands against his chest and threw him off. Gasping for air, she braced herself against the temple wall.

"Forgive me!" He cried. "I… Elizabeth… it seems I have proved you correct. I am not the gentleman I should be." He collapsed to his knees, resting his head in his hands.

She should run; she should be furious! But seeing him broken and dejected touched something in her, so she stayed. As her breath returned to normal, she sank to the floor, sitting with her back to the wall. She thought over all he had said in his awful proposal, and was suddenly struck by one point, which had been so overshadowed by his later pronouncements. "You love me?" The question was barely a whisper, but it broke through Darcy's stupor.

Shocked to find her still there, he slowly raised his head. "You didn't know?"

"But you find me barely tolerable."

As understanding slowly overtook him, so too did a new wave of shame. "It all comes back to Wickham," he said with a dejected sigh.

Elizabeth could make no sense of this. "I beg your pardon?" She said, somewhat indignantly. Her ire was beginning to rise again at the remembrance of friend's misfortune.

Darcy stood then, turned his back on her and tried to compose his thoughts. After a few deep breaths, he turned to face her once more. "If you will permit me, I should like to answer the charges you have laid against me."

Standing to meet his eye, she nodded her consent.

"Mr. Wickham is the son of a respectable man…"

As he expounded on the tale of his former friend, explaining his true character and all their dealings together, Elizabeth was stunned. Disbelief was soon replaced with embarrassment at her own naivety as she began to see her mistaken trust in the one who had flattered her. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as he described his dear sister's near ruination. "Mr. Darcy…" she breathed. "I am so ashamed. Poor Miss Darcy. I have been such a fool. I who have prided myself on my discernment of character, to be taken in by such a scoundrel. It is inexcusable."

"On the contrary, Miss Bennet. You could not have known. He has fooled many with more experience, my own father, for one. I certainly gave you no reason to think well of me. Your reproofs have made me see the error in my own conduct. I have shown you nothing but snobbery, and insulted you to boot! But I must beg your forgiveness for that. It is inexcusable, I know, but the events of Ramsgate were so fresh in my mind when I arrived in Hertfordshire. That, and the general discomfort I always feel in strange company, especially when news of my income immediately circulates a room, culminated to put me in a foul mood. I would have said anything to put Bingley off. To be sure I barely looked at you, but to be truthful, it wouldn't have mattered, as I was determined to be displeased. When I did truly look, when I began to see your easy playfulness, your shining eyes, your dazzling wit, I was bewitched. And it scared me."

All through this speech, Elizabeth watched his face, and was struck by the depth of feeling she read there; remorse was plainly etched across his brow. She began to see that the proud facade he wore could be a protection against all those in society who saw only his wealth as something to be captured. He had built up walls to protect himself, but they had been too fortified. "Scared you?" she repeated.

"I have never felt this way before. I thought it only infatuation and that distancing myself from you would cure me of it, but quite the opposite occurred. Seeing you here again, I realized it was so much more than infatuation. And in my arrogance, I assumed you would be expecting my declarations, wanting them. I thought only of my own feelings." He signed and searched her face for a hint of her thoughts. The anger seemed to be gone, but beyond that she was unreadable. "Elizabeth, Miss Bennet, please tell me I have not destroyed my chance at happiness. I beg of you, give me a chance to win your respect."

She studied him again, his earnest, longing gaze pierced her, but she was not ready to capitulate. "I accept your account of Mr. Wickham. I should have seen the impropriety of his relating such a tale on so short an acquaintance. I am heartily sorry for making such unfounded accusations. But what of my other charge? How could you bring such pain to such a dear creature as Jane? What harm has she done to you? To be sure I know our family's faults, as you so kindly laid them out earlier, but if you have put them aside in your own case, I can hardly think they are more grievous in your friend's."

At this, Mr. Darcy raised his hands to his head in dejection. "I can only beg pardon for my words and actions by laying before you my reasoning. Although your family's improprieties were distressing to me, my only true concern was that I saw no special regard on your sister's part. If, as you say, she is merely shy, and does in fact harbor tender feelings for my friend, I am truly sorry for my part in their pain. I knew of her being in town, as Miss Bingley shared the news of it, and together we decided to conceal this fact from her brother. Perhaps this deceit was beneath me. At the time, I believed it in the service of a friend, whom I have often seen in love. I feared Miss Bennet would be persuaded by her mother to accept my friend without the proper affection."

"It does you credit to have such a care for your friend, but why should you be the judge of my sister's affection? After all, you hid your own so well."

Darcy let out a curt laugh. "Yes, ironic isn't it? Perhaps… perhaps I may have had a less noble reason. Perhaps my fear of my own growing affection for you pushed me to compromise my own morals."

"I see." She paused, considering her next words carefully. "Well Mr. Darcy, such an earnest confession deserves one in return." Darcy raised his brows in honest curiosity. "Although I immediately laughed it off, your initial insult of my person wounded me more than I cared to acknowledge. You wounded my vanity, and I'm afraid your slight colored all our future interactions. I decided I disliked you because it made it easier to discount your opinion. Charlotte has tried to tell me on more than one occasion that you admired me, but I always discounted it. I baited you whenever I could, more often trying to cause you pain than not. However did you come to love me?"

"I hardly know. I was in the middle before I knew I'd begun. But your care and attention to your ill sister I found very pleasing. The strength of your convictions made me admire you. I have never met a woman like you." Encouraged by the blush rising in her cheeks, he stepped closer once more and took her hand, searching her face with a questioning look. "May I call on you? When do you leave Kent?"

"Will you tell Mr. Bingley the truth?"

"Yes. I could hardly keep such a thing from him now. I can't promise what his actions will be, but I can no longer stomach the lie."

"That is all I ask. Yes, you may call on me. I leave Kent next week. I will spend a few days with my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner in London, where Jane is still residing. Perhaps you would call on us there. The Gardiners are sensible people, my favorite relations, in fact."

"Then I should be delighted to make their acquaintance."

"Even though they are in trade, and reside in Cheapside?"

He winced, but said, "Yes. I am beginning to understand I have long put too much merit in society's ideas of superiority. Indeed, look at what I have for an aunt! I must beg your forgiveness. I aim to mend my behavior. If you will guide me, I believe I have the chance to be a better man."

She blushed and looked away, suddenly bashful. "Sir, you give me too much credit. I who have shown such poor judgement and lashed out with unfounded accusations."

"Only out of your own innocence. You must not be too hard on yourself."

"Thank you." She was suddenly struck by his closeness. He was still holding her hand, and the tenderness in his gaze was unmistakable. Her eyes locked with his and, breath quickening, she could not look away. He moved closer, agonizingly slowly. When their faces were a breath apart, his eyes once again flicked to her lips. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she was once again overtaken by a flooding warmth as his lips met hers. It was a soft kiss, tender and loving. His free hand came up to brush her cheek as he pulled away to once again gaze into her eyes.

"Thank you, Elizabeth. For this second chance." She smiled sweetly, breathing slowing. "We should go now. I am sure your friend and cousin will be anxious for you."

Dazed, she could only nod. Darcy stepped away, and as the rain had cleared, guided her back along the path to the parsonage. At the gate he bowed. "Until we meet again, Miss Bennet."

"Mr. Darcy," she replied, answering with a curtsy and a smile. She turned to walk the short distance to the house, glancing over her shoulder several times to see him watching her go, until she turned around a bend, and he was out of sight.