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Elizabeth gaped at him. It had not been a week since she thought him attached to Caroline, and then briefly believed him engaged to his cousin Miss de Bourgh.

And all the while she had refused to acknowledge her own disappointment and envy; she could not, even now, admit to herself that she wanted him.

Something felt terribly wrong, and she withdrew her hand.

“Sir, if you merely desire your sister to have the society of a sensible woman for her improvement….”

“No! No, not at all,” he cried, rising to his feet and turning rapidly scarlet. “That is, of course I believe it would be a fine thing - perhaps I should say that imagining you as Georgiana’s sister has shown me the depth of my own regard, but it is not the work of a moment.”

Elizabeth also stood. “It is for me, sir.”

His countenance grew distorted with agony. “And this is all the reply I am to expect? I have placed myself entirely at your command, done everything to please you, to make amends - I have borne my family’s secrets to you with implicit faith in your compassion and discretion.”

“And for this you are entitled to a reward?” Elizabeth hissed at him.

His shoulders slumped. “I love you, Elizabeth, most ardently.”

“You do not know me,” she insisted. “You have heard praise of me from Caroline, and observed one tender conversation with your sister - it is reckless to believe that such meager inducements as these would make a happy marriage. It is impossible, for you disdain my family as much as your relations slighted Jane and I - and the feeling is perfectly mutual on that score. Just last night at the ball we spoke of being friends as if it were something new to be embarked upon.”

“Friends,” he scoffed. “Could I have made my regard any clearer? Ought I to have flattered and japed and smirked as my cousin does with every lady? Ought I to have ignored….” He brought his fingertips to his lips and let out a snarl of frustration.

“I made every effort to dance with all your sisters, to speak to them with every consideration of what life may be like with so many new sisters to think of, and I have long pondered how they might have been accommodated.”

“Reformed, improved enough to be relations of the Darcys,” Elizabeth retorted. “And how long before you realize that I, too, am far from perfect?”

“You have said enough, madam. Forgive me for speaking so earnestly with you.”

He dipped into a curt bow and stalked away, and Elizabeth spun about to conceal the tears that streamed down her face.

She had wanted him to like her as she liked him, but he had been far, far too hasty.

She wished to be loved in such a way as was impossible without time for deeper affection to grow, and his haste proved that he thought only of how she might be of use in his sister’s improvement.

And what would become of her own sisters?

Were they to be forced to endure such stern admonishment for their failings, held to a higher standard than they had ever known - would he always fear they would disgrace him?

She could not answer these questions; surely he could not, after dancing once with each of them.

But he was walking away from her, perhaps forever, and Elizabeth could not bear it.

She thought of what his sister had said - how Miss Darcy seemed to think that Mr. Darcy had some other reason to speak to Mr. Bennet…

which may suggest that his proposal was not the mere impulse of the moment.

She turned around, and saw that he had stopped and was also turning back to her.

They both stilled, their gazes locked and searching.

“I spoke too sharply, too hastily,” she breathed, gasping through her gentle sobs.

Mr. Darcy took a few slow steps toward her. “You said before that a hasty marriage is no substitute for time.”

She nodded. “I have only just begun to understand my own feelings, my… wish to know you better and earn your admiration. That it was so swiftly given….”

“Not swiftly,” he said, taking a few more steps, until he was close enough that he might again reach out for her. But he did not. “Had you really no idea, when you teased me at Lucas Lodge? Has it not been evident in my every look? Every word I have spoken to you?”

“I had no idea,” she breathed. “It was not until we returned from London that I examined my own feelings. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun - oh! But what about poor Miss Bingley?”

“Miss Bingley is soon to get the greatest shock of her life, if my cousin is to be believed,” he blurted, and then laughed madly at his own indiscretion. “Let us hope that he does a better job of it than I have.”

“What? You mean… oh! Yes, he was often whispering in her ear last evening. I thought he only meant to vex her.”

“I think he wishes to vex her for the next fifty years.” And then he smiled as he had done that day in London, the first time she had ever seen him do so, and it was just as devastating on this occasion.

She took a step to close the distance between them.

“You are far wiser than your cousin; can you not see the merit in a proper courtship, sir? A lady ought to be better prepared to receive such addresses. If you are indeed still at my command, I would have you court me properly.”

She held her breath as she awaited his reply, summoning every ounce of courage she could muster to hold his gaze after such a bold speech.

“I have only one condition.” When she nodded for him to go on, Mr. Darcy said nothing else, but took her in his arms and kissed her.

For a moment Elizabeth was too stunned to do anything but wrap her arms around his neck. As the pleasant sensations burned through her body, she began to return his ardor, but he released her all too soon. “That was your condition?”

He gave a devilish grin that would have done the colonel proud. “I had to know - as you wish to know me better.”

“I see…. And what have you learned?”

“That I could do that for the next fifty years.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow at him, suppressing her elation. “Then you must court me most assiduously, sir,”

“I shall go to your father at once.”

“No - no, not yet. He will only tease me, and Mamma - no. Besides, I do wish to be sure it will not pain Miss Bingley. Please allow me a few days.”

“Anything you wish,” he said at once, and she could feel the relief fairly radiating from him.

She had thought only of her own feelings, but now she began to comprehend his.

He loved her, and she had nearly given up any chance at what happiness that love might bring, once she had come to know him as she felt she ought to.

What had felt very wrong a few minutes earlier seemed now quite right, and she had every hope of her feelings growing into a love that equaled what shone so ardently in his gaze.