He shifted in his chair nervously a few times, stared down, and finally looked directly into her eyes.
“I knowexactlywhat it is like to pine away for a seemingly hopeless love for four months. In a supreme bit of irony, the cause of my distress is exactly the same as your sister’s.”
“I do not understand.”
“The cause of both my misery and Miss Bennet's is the same: myself!”
She looked startled but had no idea how to answer, so merely nodded for him to continue.
“I misjudged Miss Bennet, so I misadvised my friend. Now in this case, he was not really deserving of her anyway, but still, as you say, it was not my place. Your sister’s revenge was well earned and better aimed than she imagined. She probably took me as a target of opportunity, but she had good reasons to avenge herself on me, even if she did not know them all.”
Elizabeth was more confused than ever. “I understand how you were responsible for Jane’s suffering, but you have yet to explain how you are responsible for your own.”
“Because I fell in love about the same time your sister did, but I allowed my stubborn pride, the expectations of my family that were impressed upon me with vigour since birth, and the expectations of a society I mostly despise; to cause me to abandon my love without a fight and try to convince myself I was wrong for all these months.”
Elizabeth was fascinated beyond measure. “Based on the timing, it must be someone in Meryton. I probably know her. It is likely not too late, and I will certainly be able to help you escape your self-imposed exile. Your case may not be hopeless.”
She leaned forward excitedly. “Who is she?”
“You, of course,” he said, as if he were explaining the most basic fact to Mr Collins or Lady Catherine.
“Me!” she gasped, then sat in stunned silence for a full minute, unable to utter a sound while he looked on with the same half-smile he used to wear when he stared at her in Meryton.
She finally sighed. “You should probably explain yourself.”
“It will be my pleasure. Who did I most egregiously insult the first night of our acquaintance because her beauty tongue-tied me so badly that I did not recognise the feeling any better than a green boy? Who kept my attention so raptly that I could not help staring to the point you probably hated me, or thought I was mad? Who was so tongue-tied I could never speak to you properly unless we were debating? Who was too cowardly to apologise for that first slight, as would any gentleman? Who asked you to dance thrice, only to get one dance? Who was so frightened of his own feelings that he ran back to town like a craven idiot rather than face them like a man?”
She stared at him in shock for quite some time, and finally squeaked, “I dearly hope this is not some elaborate revenge.”
He chuckled, leaned forward, and boldly laid his hands open on the table, waiting patiently while looking her in the face.
After some time, she nervously put her hands into his and allowed him to grasp them.
He smiled and it melted her heart, though she was still exceedingly nervous. She remembered her thoughts of a few moments earlier, and her regret that he might soon leave her sphere. She certainly felt something more for the man than she had in Hertfordshire—notmoreper se, but a similar intensity of opposite feelings.
“My revenge will be sweet indeed,” said he with a smile, “and I plan to exact it over fifty years at least.”
She stared for some time, and finally squeezed his hands, though she was still incapable of speech.
He continued with a soft, wry, smile.
"In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."
She was far less startled than she would have been had he said it without warning, which in her addled mind seemed as if it might have been possible absent Jane’s prank.
Still incapable of speech (or coherent thought) she squeezed again.
This he considered sufficient encouragement; and the avowal of all that he felt, and had long felt for her, immediately followed. He spoke well about how much he admired her, had admired her since he really took notice of her at Lucas Lodge, and admired her dedication to her sister and her ability to withstand the slings and arrows of the superior sisters; but was prevented first by his own reticence from making a better impression, then by his own stupidity in abandoning her without a word.
He concluded with representing to her the strength of that attachment which, in spite of all his endeavours, he had found impossible to conquer; and with expressing his hope that it would now be rewarded by her acceptance of his hand, little though he deserved it.
He spoke of apprehension and anxiety, and his countenance showed he was experiencing it at a level that was likely to kill him.
She was feeling unaccountably nervous herself, both responsible for his happiness, and the sudden fluttering she felt in her own breast. She wondered if she were belatedly recognising that she had been in love with the man all along, or if she just could not imagine disappointing her mother with another rejection.
She was not sure if she liked the way her hands were trembling, as he could certainly feel it as well as she could.
When she started speaking, it took little time to realise she was babbling like Lydia.
