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"Belle," Elizabeth ventured, "I know this is not what you wish to hear, but there is nothing more for you to do. This choice is not yours to make."

"Yes, that is the worst part. I begin to feel some sympathy for your Mr. Darcy.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth said, unconsciously placing one hand over her heart, “that is not fair.”

"Lizzy," Arabella said gently, "forgive me for speaking plainly, but I must say it again. I believe Mr. Darcy cares for you far more deeply than you have allowed yourself to acknowledge. This is not merely duty or obligation on his part. This is a man who genuinely wishes to be in your company, who values your mind and your spirit.” She caught Elizabeth’s gaze and held it.

“And the only impediment to a happy union is you. "

Elizabeth could not meet her friend's gaze, suddenly overwhelmed by the implications of Arabella's words.

"I am afraid, Belle," she confessed in a whisper.

"I have spent so many years guarding against the possibility of a marriage like my parents' that I scarcely know how to trust my own judgment in the matter anymore. "

"Then trust mine," Arabella said firmly. "I have seen how open you are with him. Far more than with any other gentleman of our acquaintance. Look how a single note from him can occupy your thoughts." She smiled gently. "You may not be prepared to admit it, but I believe you care for him as well."

Elizabeth felt heat rise to her cheeks at this too-accurate assessment. "Even if there is some attraction," she admitted reluctantly, "that does not ensure lasting happiness. How can I know whether he respects and admires me in so short a time?"

"Nothing can ensure that," Arabella pointed out. "Not even time. Life offers no guarantees, Lizzy. The most prudent match based on compatible temperaments and mutual esteem can falter if you do not work to support one another."

"A truth your parents seem to understand quite well," Elizabeth noted.

"Yes," Arabella acknowledged ruefully. "And yet, here I am, willing to risk a lifetime of worry and loneliness for the chance to be with a man I only believe I love.

While you . . ." She broke off, studying Elizabeth with sudden insight.

"You fear that very emotion, do you not?

Not just the possibility that Mr. Darcy might grow indifferent, but that you might come to care too deeply and be unable to protect yourself if his sentiments change. "

Elizabeth stared at her friend, startled by her perception.

"I had not thought of it that way," she said slowly.

"I have spent so many years watching my mother's unhappiness, her desperate need for my father's approval and his unwillingness to give it that I have come to see such dependence as something to be avoided at all costs.

My mother is a trial to me, Belle, but I understand why she is this way. "

Arabella leaned forward. "I may not have the colonel in the end, but there is no such impediment between you and Mr. Darcy. Only your own fear."

"It is not so simple," Elizabeth protested.

"It never is," Arabella agreed. "I know I told you I would help you avoid this marriage. But I will confess, I have always believed that Mr. Darcy would be good for you.”

Elizabeth felt something shift inside her at these words, a loosening of the tight knot of fear that had constrained her for so long. "You speak fervently on Mr. Darcy’s behalf."

"I speak only as I find," Arabella replied. "And what I find is a man who looks at you as though you delight him at every turn. Who seeks your company with increasing frequency. Who writes notes about 'unusual pleasure' at the prospect of sharing an evening with you."

Elizabeth could not help but smile at this. "When you put it that way . . ."

"Be brave, Lizzy," Arabella urged. "Brave as I know you can be. Allow yourself to see the man who I am sure loves you, and to consider whether you might one day return that love."

"I shall try," Elizabeth promised softly.

"That is all I ask," Arabella said, some of the tension leaving her shoulders.

She leaned against Elizabeth, finally allowing her head to rest on her friend's shoulder.

"How strange that we should both find ourselves facing the prospect of love at the same moment, yet under such different circumstances. "

"Life does seem to delight in such ironies," Elizabeth agreed, placing an arm around Arabella's shoulders. "You love a man you can no longer see. I am pledged to a man my heart dares not trust."

They sat in companionable silence for a long moment, lost in their own thoughts. Elizabeth found her mind returning to Mr. Darcy's words. Perhaps Arabella was right. Perhaps there was more to his regard than mere duty or obligation. The thought was unsettling yet undeniably appealing.

"Father is right about one thing,” Arabella said at last. “If the colonel truly cares for me, this separation will not be the end of our story.

And if he does not . . ." She shrugged, though the gesture lacked conviction.

"Well, then I shall have learned a valuable lesson about the transient nature of attachment. "

"For what it is worth, I do not believe his regard for you is transient," Elizabeth assured her. "Anyone who observed his attentions could see his interest."

"As anyone who observes Mr. Darcy with you can see his," Arabella countered with a small smile. "Yet we both doubt, do we not?"

Elizabeth could not argue with this assessment. Every interaction with Mr. Darcy left her more confused, more conflicted about her own feelings.

"What shall you wear tomorrow evening?" Arabella asked, breaking into Elizabeth's thoughts with a deliberate change of subject.

"I had not considered it," Elizabeth admitted, grateful for the shift to more practical matters.

"The sea-green silk," Arabella decided firmly. "It brings out the remarkable colour of your eyes, and you have not worn it yet."

As they fell into a more light-hearted discussion of appropriate attire for the opera, Elizabeth found her thoughts returning to Arabella's words. Be brave.

But could she?