“No. However, this is the first time I meant to be discovered.”
“Oh. Well, I beg your pardon. My words…were not meant the way they sounded.”
“I hope they were.” He took two steps toward her and continued. “You see, I have another confession to make. I am not an impulsive man.”
“Yes, I am aware of that.”
“A report of a most alarming nature reached me just this morning and although I am now sure it is not a falsehood, I instantly resolved to set off for Longbourn to make my sentiments known to you.”
“And what report was that, sir?”
“That you are not to marry Mr. Hamilton.”
She averted her eyes, looking back at the moon. “Yes.”
His heart racing, he took another step forward. “And might I ask why?”
She did not look at him until after she replied. “He asked and I refused.”
“But why did you refuse?”
Shrugging her shoulders, she began to ramble. “I realized we did not suit. He is a kind man but does not understand my temperament. I would not make him a good wife.”
He took another step closer and raised his hand, tracing her jaw with the back of his fingers. “Elizabeth,” he said, his voice husky with emotion, as she closed her eyes. “Why did you refuse?”
She began to lean into his touch then stopped, straightening her back and opening her eyes. “It does not signify now, sir. I think we must return to the house.”
The moonlight captured a lone tear that had escaped and was streaming down her cheek. “Please tell me,” he whispered, as he rubbed the wet trail with his thumb, cradling her face with his hand.
She wavered a minute longer before almost breathing out her answer, while raising her eyes to meet his. “Because it was not you.” His heart beat so loudly, he wondered if she could hear it.
It took him only a moment before he ran his thumb across her lower lip. “Elizabeth, my love,” he breathed, slowly leaning in and gently kissing her. She did not resist and his kiss deepened.
All at once, her hands came up to his chest and pushed him away. “Mr. Darcy,” she said, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “You are a married man! I am not Miss Bingley who would steal another’s husband. If you will excuse me.” She briskly walked toward the house.
“Elizabeth, wait. You must listen to me!” Her pace only increased as he ran to catch up with her. “You must hear me out.”
“No, sir. I cannot. Your words would be like water to a parched soul. Do not ask this of me.”
Her steps did not slow, but he quickly overtook her. He reached for her arm and stopped her. “Elizabeth, listen to me.” She continued to struggle out of his hold. “I am not married to Anne.”
She stilled.
“I am a free man.”
“How? How is that possible?” she asked, spinning to face him.
“Anne found the letter from my mother which Mrs. Smith wrote. It exists! Lady Catherine had hidden it at Rosings and was forcing the marriage for the sole purpose of having control of Pemberley. I did not marry Anne.”
“You did not marry Anne?”
“No.” He smiled, tracing her arms with his hands and slowly clasping her fingers. “I cannot marry a woman who is in love with another.”
“Colonel Fitzwilliam?”
“Yes.” He raised her hands to his lips and kissed her fingers. “She loves Richard, and he her.”
“So, you are not married?”
