Chapter 4

Once past the receiving line at Netherfield, Elizabeth looked around for Charlotte Lucas, whom she had not seen for a week. That she also might be looking to see Mr. Darcy, who was tall enough that it should have been easy enough to spot him, as well, she would most firmly deny. As it was, the familiar company meant her progress through the room was slow as she was greeted by many of her neighbors, among the first being Jonathan Martin who asked her for the first dance as his sister was engaged with her betrothed. She had to repress a smile at his method of asking, but she was pleased to find a partner for the first dance so quickly.

After a few more encounters and another dance invitation, Elizabeth spotted Charlotte and was surprised to see her talking with Mary who somehow had maneuvered through the crowd ahead of her. She was equally surprised not to see Mr. Collins by her side, as it had seemed as if he planned to be glued to her side for the evening.

Charlotte greeted her warmly then said, "Mary was just telling me about your mother's infirmity." There was a hint of a smile as she added, "It must vex her greatly."

"Indeed," Elizabeth said. "It took all our persuasion to get her to agree to the least of Mr. Jones's strictures by reminding her of the dire prognostications if she did not."

"No, she has never believed that silence is a virtue," Mary said. "I should find her, as I am sure she is feeling this trial greatly." With that she immediately left leaving Elizabeth slightly puzzled as Mary and Charlotte had never been particularly close.

"So is it true that it seems likely that your cousin will be making an offer to Mary?" Charlotte asked. "Reports are that he was quite attentive to her at your aunt Phillips' party last week."

Elizabeth smiled wryly. "It certainly seems so, and both Mary and my mother seem pleased by the notion."

"And you? I understand you have had a change of opinion lately."

Confused, Elizabeth said, "My cousin is perhaps not my favorite person, but I am pleased that Mary is pleased."

"No, I was referring to a certain gentleman from Derbyshire," Charlotte said.

"There is nothing I can really say, except that yes, my opinion of him has improved a bit. He is not so disagreeable even if he is quite proud," Elizabeth said.

"He has reason to be," Charlotte said. "Nevertheless, I am sure you could secure him if you put your mind to it."

"I very much doubt that, Charlotte," Elizabeth said. "Mr. Darcy seems a man who is immune to being 'secured,' and I have no intention of making a fool of myself in any such attempt."

Charlotte looked as if she might press her point, but there was not time enough as the dancing was about to start. Mr. Martin approached, and Elizabeth was glad to push away the topic of Mr. Darcy, as she was getting quite frustrated with people suggesting unbelievable possibilities. The first dance with Mr. Martin was pleasant enough. He was not an inspired dancer, but he rarely moved incorrectly and catching glimpses of Mary's dances with Mr. Collins, who rarely moved correctly, Elizabeth was quite content with her partner.

After that first dance Elizabeth checked to see how her mother was faring. While she was obviously not happy about having to remain silent, she was enjoying her role as brave invalid, a contrast to her usual flutterings, and while she was incapable of indulging in her desire to boast of what she considered to be the inevitable good matches of her daughters, she was receiving her second favorite occupation of hearing the gossip of the past week from her cronies. And beyond that she seemed to be enjoying the number of young men approaching to ask her daughters to dance.

Nearby, Mary sat on a chair, Mr. Collins hovering by her side. "Oh, Cousin Elizabeth," he said. "Cousin Mary seems to have hurt her ankle, and I feel I should see to her comfort— as well as your good mother's," he added as an after thought.

Elizabeth looked at Mary who had a slight smile on her face, and Elizabeth realized that she was doing her part to spare other people's feet, and possibly help keep their mother and sister in line. "That is very... kind of you, Mr. Collins," she said. "Mary, I hope your ankle is not too bad."

"Not very," Mary replied. "I believe with a little rest it will be well."

"I am glad to hear it," Elizabeth replied, before moving off a little to leave Mary and Collins together.

"Cousin Mary," Mr. Collins said, "is there anything I may get for your relief."

"No, thank you," Mary said. "But perhaps you might see if my mother would like some punch."

"Of course, how remiss of me. I should see to it at once. But are you sure there is nothing that I can get for you, dear cousin," he persisted.

"I am quite sure for the moment, but perhaps later," Mary replied. "I think my mother is in more need just now."

Finally seeming to realize that he was helping no one by simply standing there, Mr. Collins bobbed his head slightly and hurried over to Mrs. Bennet. Mary watched as he then scurried towards the refreshment table. He was no great dancer, and he would never be the world's best speaker, but she could not help but like him for his good intentions however ill he managed to express them. She glanced over at Elizabeth who was near Charlotte again and wondered if the small conspiracy they had entered to see that Elizabeth would have partners enough to see her up to just before the supper set would work. It helped that Charlotte's brother John was a lively young man who would not bother to ask too many questions about why they wanted that; he'd simply think it was some kind of joke between the three of them, and he and his friends did like Elizabeth enough to think it no hardship. However, so much depended on Mr. Darcy wishing to dance with Elizabeth and not being put off by that being her first free set. Both Mary and Charlotte did hope that he would be encouraged by the fact that she was not being "slighted by other men"; they both understood that most men found a woman more enticing when other men also noticed them. Of course, they both understood this as the women that no men really noticed.

At that moment, Mr. Collins returned bearing two glasses of punch, one of which he handed to her mother before returning to her side.

Holding the cup a little awkwardly, he said, "I know that you said that you did not wish a cup, but then when I was there I thought you might have changed your mind, and I would not wish you to have to wait if you had, but if you still did not, I might give this to another of my cousins if they are thirsty, or..."

Mary interrupted him. "Thank you, Mr. Collins; I believe I am thirsty after all. It was very thoughtful of you."

He beamed at her as he handed her the glass. "It is my pleasure, Miss Mary."

~o~O~o~

Darcy entered the ballroom quietly, determined not to draw attention to himself. Indeed for some time, he had been standing in an upstairs room watching the arriving carriages. After his billiards games with Bingley, he had spent a trying day avoiding Miss Bingley who once she had discovered his presence downstairs, seemed determined to seek his approval of all her plans, not that there would be any time to make any change of note. Once he had retreated to his rooms, he had no intention of returning downstairs until the dancing was about to start. It was one advantage of being a guest of the host rather than the host himself. If he had been looking for the arrival of a particular party, he had not admitted that to himself, at least until he saw Elizabeth Bennet step out of her family's carriage. She looked beautiful, and yet he could not help but imagine how much more brightly she might shine in richer materials with some of the Darcy jewels around her neck. He shook his head, trying to clear that image from his head.

He had waited until he was sure she would be well inside before venturing downstairs. Now, he hovered around the edges, not sure if he was trying to hide from his hostess or the object of his fascination. He was determined to steer clear of both at least until after the first dance ended. He was successful in avoiding the latter but not the former who managed to spot him half way through the first set, and Miss Bingley also managed to spy Miss Elizabeth at the same time.

"I see Miss Eliza has found herself a partner in Mr. Martin," she said, pausing long enough for Darcy to respond if he wished. He did not, so she continued, "I believe he is an old friend of the Bennet family. It would be quite a fitting match, as surely he would be quite used to her impertinent ways."

Darcy refused to respond and merely continued watching the dance. He saw no partiality on either's part, just as he had seen none when he had met Mr. Martin the previous week, but that did not mean that he felt any sense of complacency in observing them. Also, while he knew he would need to ask Miss Bingley to dance at some point during the evening, he absolutely refused to ask her at this moment while she was trying to force some reaction from him about Elizabeth— Miss Elizabeth.

"Pray do not allow me to detain you from speaking with your other guests, Miss Bingley," he said. "It would not do for me to distract the hostess from her duties." He kept his voice as flat as possible.

Miss Bingley blinked at him for a moment before putting on a rather insincere smile and saying, "I would never dare call you a distraction, Mr. Darcy, though you are all thoughtfulness, sir."

"Not at all," he said, seeing that she did not intend to quit his side. "If you would excuse me, madam." Having seen one of the guests approaching, he took the opportunity to move away before she could come up with a reason to detain him, and while it was bordering on discourtesy, he could not regret escaping her and leaving her to others, as he moved to find a better place in which to observe Elizabeth while waiting for the opportunity to ask her for a dance of his own.

~o~O~o~

Elizabeth's second dance was with an officer who was a good dancer and a pleasant conversationalist; it was not quite as difficult to be distracted from wondering where Mr. Darcy was as she had not yet seen him that evening. After that she returned to Charlotte, who wisely refrained from bringing up the subject of Mr. Darcy. However, the gentleman himself soon appeared and after an exchange of greetings, asked her for the next set.

"Mr. Darcy, I am afraid that my next open set is the supper set," she said, both disappointed that she had not an earlier one open and convinced he would rather not dance that particular set with her.

"Then I will look forward to it," he said. "You seem quite in demand this evening, Miss Elizabeth."

"I rarely sit out save when gentlemen are scarce. It is of no consequence to me, as I rarely feel slighted." This was the closest she would come again to directly reminding him of his initial insult to her after his missing her last reference. She wondered if he often insulted people so casually that he would forget so easily. Of course, she knew of her own tendency to judge instantly and unfairly, but wondered whether his insult was a reflection on his character or his manners.

Mr. Darcy frowned slightly as if trying to comprehend why her words sounded familiar and then his eyes widened as he recollected.

"It seems, Miss Elizabeth, that I owe you an apology as well as a dance," he said after a moment.

"Do you?" she asked with an all too innocent smile.

"As you know very well," he said, a slight smile of his own appearing. "I spoke poorly about matters that I both knew nothing of and insulted a very handsome young woman in the process."

"Oh, am I now handsome enough to tempt you, Mr. Darcy?" she asked, part of her wondering if this was saying too much, but if he was going to withdraw, then better it be now.

"I believe you know the answer to that well enough," he replied seriously. "Will you forgive me for my most inaccurate and foolish words?"

She tilted her head as she looked up at him. "For the moment, I believe I will," she said.

"So I have but a temporary stay," he said. "You intend to make me work for a full pardon, I perceive."

"Do you believe you deserve one?"

"No, but I would still wish it," he said.

"Then it is entirely possible," Elizabeth said. "I am learning that first impressions are not necessarily the best or at least final indicators of character."

"And I am learning that some times it would be better to be silent than speak."

"Or perhaps that there are better ways of indicating a refusal than insulting a third party," Elizabeth indicated with a smile, "as I believe that you have too well embraced the concept of silence at times when it would be well if you spoke."

"That is too true, Miss Elizabeth."

At that moment, Elizabeth's partner for the next set appeared, and their conversation ended, with great reluctance on both sides. During those dances, Elizabeth became very aware of Mr. Darcy's gaze as he watched her. She knew now that those stares were not meant to display disdain but something else entirely.

He did not approach her after that set, but in the next he stood very close as he danced that one with Miss Bingley while she danced with Mr. Lucas. As they were old friends and the dance a familiar one, it left Elizabeth with leisure enough to overhear the conversation if such it could be called.

"How elegantly you dance, Mr. Darcy," Miss Bingley said. He barely acknowledged the compliment nor did he return it, though she did not seem to notice as she continued on. "I always believe that this dance requires true proficiency." She batted her lashes at Mr. Darcy who seemed to be looking past her shoulder. As he merely nodded, she continued, "And we are so fortunate as to have just the right amount of couples on the floor. None of the crowding you would get at a public assembly."

Elizabeth wondered at Miss Bingley's conversation fitting so much into the bland mold of polite dancing conversation. Was there nothing more personal she could say beyond that first compliment on Mr. Darcy's dancing? She certainly was not garnering any more than the barest attention that courtesy required. In fact, Elizabeth had the oddest feeling that wherever he seemed to be looking, Mr. Darcy's attention was directed not towards his partner but to her. And every time the dance moved them together, Elizabeth felt all the force of his attention for the moments that they were together, always smoothly with never a misstep, the same of which could not be said about her turns with her own partner, as she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on him rather the man next to him, though she did her best to avoid discourtesy to Mr. Lucas.

Of course, it was made rather more challenging when she had to ignore Miss Bingley's increasingly overblown compliments. Apparently, there was nothing that was not infinitely superior in Mr. Darcy as compared to the common man, and while she did not directly insult anyone, her implication that the rest of her guests were inferior beings in comparison as well as the underlying apology for inflicting them upon him was not lost on Elizabeth, no matter how subtle the lady in question believed she was being. When the set finally ended, Elizabeth was feeling oddly disquieted, not only by Mr. Darcy but her own changing reactions to him. It was almost a relief to get away from him for a little time to recover.

However, when it came time for their own dance, Elizabeth was again discomposed and somewhat unnerved by Mr. Darcy's attention. Now that her dislike had all but dissipated, she was not quite sure what had taken its place nor was she sure what Mr. Darcy's intentions were. He still seemed a man too certain of his own consequence, and yet even she could not mistake his earlier conversation as a lack of interest, and whatever else she had thought of him, she had no reason to believe him a dishonorable man who would play with a woman for his own amusement.

In consequence of the discomposure of her feelings, the first part of their dance was conducted in silence, until Elizabeth drew on her courage. "Tell me, Mr. Darcy. Are you always such a taciturn dancer?"

"I must confess that I do rarely speak," he replied. "It is a flaw that I am not certain how to rectify."

"Well, I believe that the easiest way would be to converse," she said with a smile. "However, if you are at a loss for a topic, perhaps I should speak of the dance and you could comment on the size of the room or the number of couples." Rather like the obsequious Miss Bingley, she reflected.

"Do you mean to talk by rule then?"

"If it will ease your difficulties. Or would you rather we not speak unless we can amaze the whole room."

"Is that what you think of me— of the two of us?"

"I must not comment on my own performance, but I have not yet completely sketched your character. There appear to be such different aspects as to puzzle me exceedingly."

"You once said that intricate characters are the most amusing."

"I am no longer so sure if amusing is the proper term."

"So do you have another term?" he asked.

She looked at him with a curious expression. "I am not sure. Perhaps intriguing would be better."

He said, "Intriguing does seem a better word; I would prefer not to be the only one to be studying an intriguing character."

"And how is your study coming along?" Elizabeth asked. "I will not be so bold as to inquire as to the name of the object of your study."

"That is because I believe you may be all too aware of it yourself."

"If I am, it would not be proper to admit it," she said.

He smiled at her just as Sir William Lucas paused in his walk across the room to address him. "I have been most highly gratified indeed, my dear sir. Such very superior dancing is not often seen. It is evident that you belong to the first circles. Allow me to say, however, that your fair partner does not disgrace you, and that I must hope to have this pleasure often repeated, especially when a certain desirable event, my dear Eliza, " he said as he looked at Jane and Mr. Bingley together, "shall take place. What congratulations will then flow in! And perhaps that might encourage a certain reserved gentleman..." Sir William glanced towards Mr. Martin who was standing nearby talking quietly with his sister's betrothed. Then noticing Mr. Darcy's expression, he suddenly said, "But let me not interrupt you, sir. You will not thank me for detaining you from the bewitching converse of that young lady, whose bright eyes are also upbraiding me."

Mr. Darcy's eyes focused on Mr. Martin for a long moment before returning to Elizabeth. "Sir William's interruption has made me forget what we were talking of."

Elizabeth found she could not decipher Mr. Darcy's expression, but she was feeling a certain amount of irritation with Sir William and his well meaning gossip. "I believe we were discussing character study. However, at the moment, I am contemplating the dividing line between observing characters and transmitting gossip, as well as how frustrating it can be to be the object of others' observations."

"It can be frustrating indeed," Mr. Darcy said with the conviction of a man used to being the subject of speculation.

"So I have observed," Elizabeth said with a wry smile. "At the moment, I feel it would be better for those who wish to pass on good wishes to wait until there is confirmation that there is something on which to anticipate."

"Is it the accuracy or the inaccuracy of speculations that troubles you?" Darcy asked.

Elizabeth was not sure which bit of Sir William's speech he was referring to. She had hopes of Mr. Bingley and Jane but felt that any anticipation of their marriage was premature. "Can we ever be certain how accurate an outside appraisal is of a situation? I know I have prided myself on my discernment only to realize that my impression was not so correct as I believed it to be. Have you not had any similar experience of your own?"

He appeared to deliberate. "Yes, I have," he said, "and it has been a humbling experience." He fell silent and seemed to look past her at nothing in particular but brought his eyes back to her after a brief moment. "Perhaps that is the point."

"I am forced to agree with you, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied before the dance put the end to their exchange.

~o~O~o~

Darcy was losing the war Every moment with Elizabeth Bennet weakened his defenses. He had never been so open with any woman as he was with her. He never flirted; he never encouraged women, but with her it was a battle to not offer her his hand and heart. He had watched her dancing with other men and envied every smile they received.

He had been more than annoyed with Miss Bingley's insinuating remarks about Elizabeth's first partner, though he had seen no specific interest on either's part either this night or the night of the Phillips' party. But then his tolerance for Miss Bingley's attentions had become almost nonexistent. Since politeness dictated he ask her to dance, he did so, but the only pleasure he had had was in his proximity to Elizabeth. He was amazed that he did not misstep as he hardly noticed anything but her. In point of fact, if anyone had asked him what Miss Bingley had said during the dance, he would have been unable to answer as he certainly did not retain a word of it.

That was not the case with Elizabeth. Every word she spoke seemed to etch itself into his mind, and he was most pleased that their dance had been the supper set as he wanted nothing more than to spend as much time with her as possible, even as he told himself that it was not wise to do so.

Much as he enjoyed the dance, he had been disturbed by Sir William's implication that he might have a rival for her. It had been easier to dismiss Miss Bingley's earlier assertion as she was unfamiliar with Mr. Martin, but Sir William knew them both. In all his previous deliberations on Miss Elizabeth, Darcy had not taken into consideration the possibility of another claiming her if he did not, and the distaste— no, more accurately revulsion— he felt at the prospect of her marrying any other man was forcing him to reevaluate any notion of leaving her behind.

At supper, luck seemed to be with him as he and Elizabeth found themselves sitting far from Miss Bingley and the younger Miss Bennets who were sitting near the still quiet Mrs. Bennet. While they were all far more subdued than he ever seen them, he could not but be glad to have Elizabeth to himself out of their immediate purview. He had wished to return to the conversation they had broken off during the dance, but it seemed too serious a subject to continue at the moment. However, there was no shortage of conversation as Elizabeth proved quite adept at drawing him out when he found himself beginning to retreat to taciturnity. She was not shy about engaging others in conversation as well, and while he selfishly would prefer to monopolize her attention, he could not but see how Elizabeth's ease with others would translate well to his sphere.

After supper, there was some talk of singing, and Darcy was pleasantly surprised to see Elizabeth and her younger sister Miss Mary perform a duet together. He had always been captivated by Elizabeth's performances, and this night was no exception. While perhaps not the most practiced of performers, she had a way of capturing the emotion of the piece that more than compensated for any errors that crept in. However, what most caught him at this moment were the lyrics of the song she was singing, "Love Will Find Out the Way," most especially the verse:

You may esteem him

A child for his might

Or you may deem him

A coward for his flight;

But if she whom Love doth honour

Be conceal'd from the day—

Set a thousand guards upon her,

Love will find out the way.

He wondered if he were a coward trying to fight this feeling as aside from her lack of fortune and connections, Elizabeth Bennet was proving to be everything he could wish for in a wife, and he wondered if such cold calculations were more of a way to hide from the unaccountably strong feelings she elicited from him. He had every reason to be proud of his position and ancestry, but was Elizabeth really so far beneath him?

She was the daughter of a gentleman, and would he not be a hypocrite to hold her ties to trade against her when he was close friends with Bingley whose fortune was made from trade? Perhaps, some of her family did not behave as they should, but did he not know people of higher rank who behaved far worse? His aunt Catherine was as much the grasping mother as Mrs. Bennet, with the addition of being overbearing and dictatorial; he had often overlooked her poor behavior because of their relationship and her rank, but really did that justify her? Then there was his uncle Oliver, so bitter about being the second son of an Earl and such an utter snob he had barely spoken to Darcy's own father because he had no title of his own. Even his uncle Matlock could be embarrassing with his hearty bluntness. Then there was... Darcy forced himself to stop as he realized his list of less than properly behaved relatives was longer than he would have previously have admitted to.

His father had taught him to be proud but it had always been in conjunction with the notion that of those to whom much was given much was expected and that birth alone did not a gentleman make. Somewhere along the line, he had allowed those principles to be warped out of their proper perspective until he did put too much value on rank and judged others more harshly if they were not of his circle, while excusing equally poor behaviors if performed by those of rank or consequence.

Elizabeth, lovely Elizabeth, never treated him with undue deference; she was willing to point out his less than polite behavior but with such a mixture of sweetness and archness in her manner that he could not take offense. With her, he felt that neither his rank nor his fortune mattered to her, but his behavior as a man did. It was a novel feeling and one he found increasingly irresistible.

His thoughts were interrupted by the snide voice of Miss Bingley. "What a provincial choice. No style. No sophistication. But what else could be expected from that family?"

Darcy grimaced. "I thought it was charmingly done." He watched as Elizabeth and Miss Mary left the piano.

Miss Bingley made a scoffing noise. "I think you are mistaking 'fine eyes' for a fine voice."

"Unlikely," he said, moving away from her towards Elizabeth. When he reached her, he said, "That was a lovely performance."

"Thank you, sir," Elizabeth said. "I believe it owes much to my sister's playing."

"Do not underestimate the charm of the singer," he replied.

Elizabeth blushed slightly. However, any reply was lost in the sudden loud cry behind them. They turned to see Miss Bingley sprawled out on the floor near the pianoforte. It seemed that on her way to the instrument she had somehow tripped and fallen against a table, knocking over a full glass of wine onto herself. Turning as red as the wine on her dress, Miss Bingley struggled up with the help of a footman and then calling to her sister left the room as quickly as possible.

The moment she was gone, Darcy turned his attention back to Elizabeth, while trying to ignore the buzz of conversation around them, though he could not help hearing some speculation that Miss Bingley had been imbibing too freely during the evening and how they were shocked that such a lady would overindulge. Though he knew he should, he could not feel overly sympathetic to Miss Bingley as she was reaping what she had sowed, much as he had. His consolation was that he seemed to be on the way to redeeming his previous disdainful behavior, and looking into Elizabeth's fine eyes, he finally surrendered to the knowledge that the only proper redemption would be to convince her to marry him.

As a first step, he asked, "Miss Elizabeth, would you do me the honor of dancing the last set with me?"

She looked up at him with a bright smile. "Mr. Darcy, it would be a pleasure."

~o~O~o~

When Mary returned to Mr. Collins side, he was gushing in his praise.

"Allow me to congratulate you, dear cousin, on a lovely performance, highlighting as it does your sisterly devotion and modesty," he said. "For I consider music as a very innocent diversion, and perfectly compatible with the profession of a clergyman. Not that I am at all proficient in the art, but I hope I can properly appreciate the artistry of others and the uplifting manner in which they perform." He ran out of breath there, while Mrs. Bennet merely nodded vigorously in agreement.

"I thank you, Mr. Collins," Mary said. "It is good to know that you find pleasure in simple entertainments as well as your calling."

"Lord, how dull this is!" Lydia exclaimed. "I cannot wait until the dancing starts again." She then snorted in laughter. "Though Miss Bingley was not so dull."

"Lydia, that is uncharitable," Mary said immediately. "We should be compassionate on those who suffer misfortune."

"You are most correct, cousin Mary," Mr. Collins said.

Rolling her eyes, Lydia turned to stare around the room. She caught sight of Elizabeth as she approached where Mr. Collins and her sisters stood. "Lizzy! Lizzy! You will bear me out. Wasn't Miss Bingley a frightful diversion? I'm sure you saw."

"Indeed, as did everyone," she replied with only the slightest hint of exasperation in her voice. "I also heard what Mary said, and she is quite right. We should have compassion in the face of someone's misfortune."

Clearly unamused, Lydia strode off in search of company she would find more agreeable.

The scene with Miss Bingley played over and over in Elizabeth's mind. She brought a hand up to her mouth to conceal the smile she was fighting to suppress. "Yes," she said thoughtfully as she watched Lydia go, "we should."

~o~O~o~

To Darcy it seemed far too long until the last dance, but at last it came. He was vaguely aware of the notice they drew as he led her to the floor, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on the lovely woman before him.

As they stood waiting, he was determined to speak and show Elizabeth his admiration, though his experience in that area was nonexistent, as it had always been ladies trying to garner his attention not the other way around. "Miss Elizabeth," Darcy started, "May I enquire as to whether you have been continuing your study?"

"Of what study do you speak, sir?" she asked.

"Of character."

"Character, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth smiled wryly. "May I ask to what this portends?"

Darcy hesitated for a moment before speaking again; this was difficult yet exhilarating. "To the state of my pardon."

"Indeed? Are you still working on that?" she asked nonchalantly but with an undercurrent of mischievousness.

"Am I?" he replied with a hint of lightness in his voice but an undertone that was serious.

"As I recall, I granted you a pardon."

"A temporary one." He looked at her intently. I know your forgiveness may be given, but I very much doubt you will ever let me forget such a thoughtless untruth.

"Ah, I see. And you are hoping for something more permanent." Her eyes were bright and sparkled in the light.

I most certainly am, my lovely Elizabeth. He could spend a lifetime gazing into those eyes and never weary. "Yes. I remember your telling me that first impressions are not necessarily the best indicators." I hope to not only have improved but to have the opportunity to capture you as you have captured me.

"So it appears," she said with a laugh.

"I have..." he faltered uncharacteristically as he struggled to find the right words for her, "My manner is what one might consider reserved, some might say resentful. However, knowing you to be a student of human behavior, I am hoping you have been judicious in your final sketch of my character."

"You think I have made one?"

"Not necessarily. Only that when you do, that you will forgive my earlier words," he said.

Elizabeth smiled more broadly. "I think I can find a way."

Darcy smiled in return. With any luck, love will find out the way