Lizzie stood at the doorstep of Netherfield, soaked to the skin, wryly amused to find herself in the same situation that her mother had tried to engineer for Jane several months ago. She had set out for the house, walking, as soon as she had heard from her mother that Bing had returned to Netherfield—along with Darcy. She hadn't realized that it was about to rain.

Now, standing on the porch of the mansion, she had no idea what to do. She could ring the doorbell and say what she had come to say, or she could turn around, head for home, and maybe come back when she was a little … drier.

As she stood there, wringing out the hem of her shirt and dithering, the door opened to reveal William Darcy. He saw her and froze in surprise. "Lizzie!"

"Darcy! Hi! I was … just about to ring the bell." She took a deep breath, as he stared, seemingly unable to look away. "I need to talk to you."

Blinking a bit and finally glancing away, he said, "Please, come inside; let me get you a towel."

Lizzie stood in the foyer as he left the room at a trot, only to return with an enormous bath towel. He shook it out and seemed to consider wrapping it around her, but settled for just handing it to her. She pulled it around her shoulders, faced him, and again took a deep breath, ready to launch into what she had come here to say. She had just managed to say his name when he indicated the door to the nearby lounge and said, "Would you like to sit?"

"Um. Sure."

She made her way to the sofa, making sure to keep the towel between her damp clothing and the furniture. He sat next to her, and once again an awkward pause subsisted between them. Naturally, they both tried to break it at the same time.

"Darcy, I know what you did for my sister."

"How are you doing?"

As Darcy heard what she said, he looked down. "I … I'm sorry that you learned of that. I never intended for you to feel obligated."

"I'm glad I did hear of it. I'm glad I have the chance to thank you for it. If the rest of my family knew, you'd have their thanks as well."

At this, he looked down. "Lizzie … I didn't do it for gratitude. I did it because it was the right thing to do."

She nodded. She knew how much she had misjudged him, how good a person he was.

"Well … thank you."

At this he smiled a tiny smile. "Well … you're welcome." Another awkward pause reigned, and then he started again, hesitantly. "Lizzie, the day you left Pemberley …" He trailed off, unsure of how to go on.

"Ask me again," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Ask me to go to the theater again."

"Is there even a theater here?" he asked, confused.

"Just ask."

"Uh … okay. Lizzie, would you like to attend the theater with me?"

She smiled at him. "Yes, I would love to."

He blinked and smiled, bemused and happy. "Oh. That's. I mean …"

"Ask me to dinner."

"Well, of course, we'd have dinner …"

"Just ask."

"Would you like to have dinner with me?"

"Yes." She grinned.

"Ah." He smiled, looked down, and then looked in her eyes. "Drinks?"

"Yes."

"Movies?"

"Yes."

"Coffee?"

"Yes."

He paused and looked at her with even more intensity.

"Paris?"

She blushed and said, "Paris. Maybe not right away, but eventually, maybe … yes."

He smiled and reached for her hand, just as she reached for his.

"Let's start with dinner."