Elizabeth looked towards Darcy. He had not moved from the bookshelves, though the strain in his expression was clear even in the low light. "Because speaking has not helped us before."
"That is because neither of you says what you mean," Jane replied with unexpected firmness. "You decide what the other must think, become offended by it and then refuse to explain yourselves."
Jane continued before Elizabeth could answer. "Richard has known Mr Darcy all his life. He has assured me that his cousin is a gentleman of honour and that he would never seek to take advantage of you."
Elizabeth's face warmed. "You discussed that with him?"
"I did not tell him everything. I told him only enough to understand why you were distressed."
"And what was enough?"
There was a silence beyond the door. "I told him you were upset and that something had passed between you which you had misunderstood."
"There was no misunderstanding."
Darcy moved then, taking a step towards her. "There was."
"You are truly leaving me here?" Elizabeth asked, trying to keep her voice low as she contained her anger. There was no answer.
Elizabeth stood in the middle of the library in her nightclothes, staring at the locked door. "I shall never forgive either of them."
"I believe they are relying upon your affection overcoming your anger."
She turned towards Darcy. "Do not defend them."
"I would not dare."
For the first time that day, something very close to laughter threatened her composure. She suppressed it at once.
Darcy remained where he was, leaving several feet between them. His coat and cravat were still in place, though he looked less composed than she had ever seen him. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and the hand resting at his side closed once before becoming still.
"I am sorry," he said.
Elizabeth looked away. "You have already said that." She folded her arms across herself. "Very well, say what you came to say."
Darcy drew a slow breath. "You were right to question my intentions. I had given you no reason to understand them, and when you asked me plainly, I answered with anger instead of honesty. I was offended that you could think so badly of me, but I had done very little to deserve a better opinion."
Elizabeth's arms loosened slightly, though she said nothing.
"I should not have taken you onto the terrace without first making my feelings clear. I should not have kissed you as I did and then expected you to trust that I meant more by it than desire. You could not know what I had not told you."
"And what had you not told me?"
His gaze held hers. "That I love you."
The words were spoken simply, without hesitation, and Elizabeth felt every prepared defence abandon her.
Darcy took one step towards her, then stopped. "I love you more than I believed it possible to love anyone. Last night, as I watched you dance, I knew that I could never willingly choose another partner, whether for an evening or for the rest of my life. I wanted to tell you then. Instead, I allowed myself to be governed by desire and left you with every reason to doubt me."
Elizabeth's breath caught, but Darcy continued before she could speak. "You were mistaken in believing that the difference between our circumstances could make you anything less than precious to me. I do not deny that I considered it. I was proud enough to believe my judgement of such matters important, but whatever objections I once possessed have lost all power over me. I think only of what my life would be with you in it, and how empty it would feel without you."
He came no closer, though the effort of remaining where he was showed in every line of him. "Georgiana would love you. Pemberley would become happier for your presence, and I..." His voice faltered for the first time. "I would spend the rest of my life trying to deserve the happiness you would bring me. I cannot promise never to offend you, because you have already proved how easily I manage it, but I can promise that I would never treat your honour lightly or ask anything of you I was not prepared to answer for before the world."
Elizabeth stared at him, unable to reconcile this man with the cold, proud gentleman she had first met. "Are you asking me to marry you?"
"I am telling you that I wish to." His expression softened, though the strain remained. "But I will not ask tonight. Not while you are distressed and not when you may believe yourself obliged by what has passed between us. I want your answer only when you are certain it is freely given."
She swallowed. "And if I refuse you?"
