Darcy noticed that they had circled around the path back to the bench where the entire debacle began, and decided it was time to finally come clean.

"Elizabeth, could we sit. I have some things to tell you."

"Of course, Fitzwilliam."

Darcy wiped down the seat with his handkerchief and helped her sit before sitting beside her. He took off his hat and laid it alongside himself on the bench and gathered his thoughts. Elizabeth envied his freedom, so she looked around to see if anyone was looking, and then took off her own bonnet so she could see her betrothed better.

"Elizabeth, you mentioned arithmetic in a way that leads me to believe you have more than a passing acquaintance with the sciences?"

"Yes. I find it fascinating, and my father indulged my study in any subject my interest took. I am so happy that I do not have to hide my intelligence or education from you."

Darcy stared down at his hands for a moment, and finally asked, "Are you familiar with the art of navigation? That is a task that requires both mathematics and a keen sense of direction."

"Yes, I am a bit astonished that you picked that particular topic. I have studied it in some depth."

"I would like to think of our relationship as something akin to a journey requiring careful navigation. You start with an initial heading, and then check certain waypoints along the way to ensure you are going on the route you planned. Does that make sense?"

"Of course."

"You just described our entire acquaintance, as a series of interactions, all of which you interpreted to mean we were on a particular course."

"Yes, that is a good way to describe it. I had not thought of it in those terms, but it is a nice analogy."

Almost afraid to ask, Darcy sucked up his courage and began.

"May I ask, what was the source for your initial heading? The intelligence that told you what each waypoint along the way meant?"

Wondering at the strain in her betrothed's voice, Elizabeth answered cautiously.

"Well, it is not so complicated really. My first impressions are never wrong. Never! Not once, in all my experience, have I had an incorrect first impression. That set the course for the rest of the 'journey' as you say."

Almost afraid to ask, he continued.

"Pray tell, what was your first impression of me?"

"It is simple, and nothing has occurred to change it. I saw a man who was honorable, honest, kind, generous, diligent, meticulous and careful."

Gasping, Darcy said, "You assumed all of that from a first impression?"

"Yes! It was all clear as day to me! It still is!"

There was a pause for both members of the somewhat frightened couple to gather their thoughts, and finally, Elizabeth said, "Please, Fitzwilliam. What is the nature of these questions? Does your furrowed brow indicate some type of…?"

Blowing out a distressed breath, Darcy asked, "If you are navigating from London to America, and found yourself on the shores of France, what would you conclude?"

"Well, obviously that my initial heading had been wildly off."

"If you were unaware of the mistake in direction, might you eventually end up in Berlin, and imagine it to be Philadelphia?"

Elizabeth scrunched up her face, and said, "You would really have to misinterpret an awful lot of touch points along the way, but I imagine it might be like Columbus. He went entirely the wrong direction and ended up in the wrong place because it was somewhere entirely new to us."

Darcy chuckled, not sure exactly how misplaced that analogy was.

"Elizabeth, let me ask you to do a mental navigation exercise. Before you begin, allow me to give you a few touch points that are fixed and never moving."

The lady, getting more nervous by the moment, said, "All… right…"

"The first is that of everything I have ever said to you, there is one sentence I wish you to use as fixed as the North Star, as constant as the tides, as reliable as gravity."

"Yes"

"I once said, 'You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.' Please use that as your fixed reference, because we are about to have a difficult journey, and that star is the only thing that has a chance to guide us to our home."

Elizabeth looked even more confused than before, but Darcy continued.

"Now, let us try a different starting heading. Suppose that, instead of that man you described, you saw an arrogant man stuffed full of his own self‑importance? Suppose that, on your first impression, my manners, impressed you with the fullest belief of my arrogance, my conceit, and my selfish disdain of the feelings of others? Instead of a man on an honorable and honest mission, you observed a man who was bad tempered, and wishing he was anywhere else in the world than an assembly full of people he thought to be decidedly below him."

The clearing suddenly became so quiet both members of the party could hear a tiny brook bubbling some distance off, and a small bird tweeting somewhere on the other side of Rosings. Both sat rock still, side by side but feeling as if a three-foot-wide brick wall had been built between them.

Elizabeth found herself almost unable to breathe and felt like the hand of a giant squeezing her chest. It took several minutes for her to be able to speak, but when she spoke, the happy and confident woman of the previous hour was gone, to be replaced by a timid and confused girl.

"So, 'not handsome enough to tempt you'?"

"The literal truth at the time."

"not lending consequence?"

"Something I never did if I could help it."

"You did not admire me?"

"That night, Miss Bingley commented on the 'reputed beauties' as she called them, and in possibly the stupidest and most shameful moment of my life, I replied, 'She a beauty!–I should as soon call her mother a wit.'"

Even quieter, in a breathless whisper, Elizabeth continued.

"Sir William, at Lucas Lodge?"

"All his doing."

"You watched me play?"

"I thought at the time that your performance was pleasing, though by no means capital. It was only later that I came to believe it the sweetest song I had ever heard."

"Miss Bingley's unpleasantness at Netherfield?"

"Pure laziness on both mine and Bingley's parts. I had mentioned I admired your eyes at Lucas Lodge, so she wanted to scratch them out. I simply chose to ignore her, as she is Bingley's problem, and anything I say to her just makes her worse."

"The request for a jig?"

"That was real. By then, I had begun to have a bit of a fascination for you, but I was absolutely certain it would go nowhere."

"The debates?"

"Those were real. I AM a man who loves an educated and clever woman, and that was the first time I got to see what that looks like. You were the only person, male or female that I knew within ten miles who could best me in a debate."

Elizabeth was by now breathing very shallowly, and almost inaudible.

"The half‑hour in the library?"

"Proving to myself that I could ignore you and refusing to allow any hint of expectations to form."

"The squeeze when handing me up to the carriage at the end?"

"A reflex. I had not planned to even hand you in."

Elizabeth sat for some time, running that month through her mind. Finally, with some trepidation, she continued her interrogation.

"Dancing at the Netherfield Ball?"

Staring at his clenched hands, Darcy said, "I had realized I admired you, but much to my shame, I thought your situation in life was too far below mine. All the fool me, I thought I would be elevating you too far… not realizing that it is you who would be elevating me. I fear it took me a long time to realize that I would be the one gaining all the advantage."

"How long, Fitzwilliam?"

As a small tear escaped from the corner of his eye, he said, "Until this morning."

"So, your proposal? You were not cautioning me on what my life was to become?"

"No, I was foolishly trying to show you what so‑called 'obstacles' I had to overcome to accept you."

"So, you really DID think me below you?"

Darcy could only nod his head, incapable of speech.

"But – you do love me… though, I am not certain you can love someone who you think is not your equal."

Darcy looked at her, and said, "I DO hope it is possible, because I now believe you are my superior. I hope you will be able to love me, though I am below you in all the ways that matter."

"How do you account for that? To go from such implacable opposition to acceptance to love. How did it happen?"

"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

Elizabeth sat in stunned silence for a moment, then jumped up and started walking over to the edge of the green.

Darcy started to follow here, but she shouted, "NO! STAY THERE!"

Wondering if he was looking at the last view he would ever have of Elizabeth, he was somewhat heartened when she stopped at the edge of the green and started pacing back and forth. He could see her left fist was clenched tight enough that the veins were probably standing out on the arms he would likely never see. With her right hand, her index finger was pointed, and she was for all the world pointing at things on a map only she could see as she stomped back and forth. He reckoned if this went on for another ten minutes, he would have to fetch a gardener with a spade to dig her out.

Feeling more and more dejected, he watched her as carefully as he had ever watched anyone in his life. She was clearly getting angrier and angrier, and it seemed likely that a break of their betrothal was imminent.

Just as he was tempted to get up and go to her, or call her name, Elizabeth stopped mid stride, and stood stock still for at least a minute. She was facing him, but her eyes were closed while she continued pointing to her own map of their lives. Darcy desperately hoped she was seeing some obscure route to redemption, because he could not imagine any such thing. What woman, having once assessed a man's character so incorrectly, would be willing to walk back, start over from the beginning and see if there was anything there worth saving.

The change was so fast, he would not have seen it if he had not been watching her as if his very life depended on it. All of a sudden, her fist uncurled, her other hand came to her side, her eyes opened, and she stared at him with an intensity that he thought might leave a burned‑out stump in his place.

The very next moment she started stomping toward him looking like a Viking army closing for battle. The love of his life walked briskly toward him, so he stood up to meet her. When she arrived a moment later, he was surprised to find the palm of her hand on his chest. She gave him a push back to the bench, opened her mouth and shouted.

"NO!"

Unsure whether a response was required, he met her eyes which looked like they were on fire. She stared at him with an intensity he had never witnessed, and repeated.

"NO!"

Not knowing if she expected any words, and having no idea what they would be anyway, he simply lifted one eyebrow in question.

"NO! THIS WILL NOT DO!"

He still had no idea what to do, so started to speak, but she put her finger on his lips to silence him. Her face was still only a foot from his, and her eyes were still on fire, burning with anger or love. It was hard to tell.

"Fitzwilliam, you are mistaken!"

That was unexpected, so he timidly asked, "How so?"

"You implied that my first impressions might be in error. My first impressions are NEVER in error."

Wondering what to say, he simply raised his eyebrow again, and she continued.

"I saw a man who was honorable, honest, kind, generous, diligent, meticulous and careful. I am never wrong, Fitzwilliam. That man is who you are!"

Completely baffled, he said, "Yes, it is the man I hope to one da…"

She cut him off by placing her entire hand over his mouth and shouted.

"NOT SOMEDAY! TODAY! Right Here! Right Now! That is the man you ARE!"

She stared at him, almost daring a contradiction, and then did something completely surprising. She pulled up the front of her dress to her knees and straddled his lap with one knee on each side. Her arms laid on his shoulders, and her hands curved behind his neck. She leaned forward until her head touched his forehead and whispered.

"My first impression was NOT wrong, Fitzwilliam. The man I described is YOU! The man I love is YOU! There can be no two opinions on the subject. Perhaps, you may have temporarily lost your way a few months ago, but that is not important. In essence, you are as you have always been, which is the man I described. You need not CHANGE! You simply need to BE the man I know you are. You CAN be that man, because you ARE that man! Will you let go of your mistaken idea of your own character, and BE the man that I love? If not for yourself, do it for me! Do it for our children!"

Darcy matched the intense look in her eyes but was unable to speak.

"It is time to CHOOSE, Fitzwilliam. If you are the man that I described… the man that I love with all my heart, kiss me now. If not… well, there is no NOT. There is no choice. BE what I know you to b…"

Nobody could know what more she might have said if her betrothed had not silenced her by kissing her within an inch of her life.

~~~ Finis ~~~