“And you will speak to him.”
“I know.”
“Then perhaps,” Jane continued, smiling, “you might cease your pacing and come downstairs before Mama begins to wonder at your strange behaviour?”
Elizabeth forced herself to sit—only to rise again a moment later. “What if I cannot find the words? What if—”
“Lizzy.” Jane’s voice was gentle but firm. “You will find them. You always do.”
But when the clock struck eleven and Hill announced the gentlemen, every carefully prepared speech fled her mind.
Mr. Darcy entered behind Mr. Bingley, and their eyes met across the room. For one suspended heartbeat, the worldnarrowed to just the two of them—his gaze steady and questioning, hers unable to look away.
Then Mrs. Bennet’s delighted exclamations shattered the spell, and Elizabeth was obliged to remember how to breathe.
The visit unfolded as all such visits must: tea was poured, pleasantries exchanged, and Mrs. Bennet held forth upon the superior elegance her eldest daughter’s wedding must certainly possess. Mr. Bennet, with mischievous composure, offered occasional observations upon the alarming speed with which his wife’s plans multiplied, and speculated whether Kitty and Lydia’s avid attention to the proceedings arose from sisterly affection or from hopes of future application.
Elizabeth contributed little to the discourse. She was far too conscious of Mr. Darcy’s presence—of the quiet gravity in his manner, and of the weight of all that yet remained unsaid between them.
She needed to speak to him. Needed it with an urgency that made her hands tremble.
After perhaps twenty minutes of this polite torment, Mr. Bingley rose with a bright smile. “The weather is remarkably fine today, Miss Bennet. Might we take a turn? I have been longing to show you that particular view from the hill.”
It was an obvious contrivance, but Jane accepted with her usual grace.
“Oh, what a lovely idea!” cried Mrs. Bennet. “Lizzy, you must accompany them. Jane cannot go unchaperoned, not yet, even with her betrothed.”
Elizabeth’s heart leapt. A walk—with Mr. Darcy.
“Of course, Mama,” she managed.
Mr. Darcy inclined his head. “If I may, I should be honoured to join the party.”
“Certainly, certainly!” Mrs. Bennet declared, already ushering them toward the door. “Enjoy the air—but do not be gone too long. Dinner will be at four!”
***
The four set out—Mr. Bingley and Jane leading, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy following at a slower pace. For several minutes, neither spoke. Elizabeth's heart beat so loudly she was certain he must hear it. Every word she had rehearsed was gone.
"Miss Elizabeth," Mr. Darcy began, then faltered.
She looked up. He was staring straight ahead, jaw taut, hands clasped behind his back.
"I must—there is something I ought to say."
"And I to you," she said quickly, before courage could desert her. "Please, Mr. Darcy—allow me first."
He looked at her then, surprise softening his features. "Of course."
Elizabeth drew a steadying breath. "I owe you an apology. For my conduct toward you in Hertfordshire, for my accusations in Kent, for everything I believed about you that was so utterly wrong."
Mr. Darcy's expression softened. "You have already apologized, Elizabeth. In Bath, you—"
"I need to apologize again," she interrupted. "Properly. Because I have thought of little else these past weeks, and I need you to understand." She met his eyes. "You tried to give me that letter in Kent. You wanted to explain everything—about Mr. Wickham, about Jane and Mr. Bingley, about all of it. But I refused to listen. I refused to even accept it. My prejudice was so strong that I took your attention, your kindness, your attempts to make me understand—and I threw them back in your face."
"Elizabeth—"
"I let Mr. Wickham poison my mind against you because he was sweet tongued and you were not. I believed the worst of you at every turn because it was easier than admitting I could be wrong." Her voice wavered. "You saved my life from that fire. You helped a young woman ruined by Wickham's cruelty. You tried to protect your sister from him. And I—I condemned you without giving you a fair hearing. I took everything good you tried to do and twisted it into something ugly because of my own stubborn pride."
