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He did not sit. “I spoke poorly yesterday,” he said. “I have been trying all night to determine how to say it better.”

Elizabeth held out her mother’s letter. “Before you do, I would like you to read this.”

He looked at the pages and then at her. “It is addressed to you and your sister.”

“Yes. It is from my mother.” She kept her hand steady. “You may as well face the entire truth. If you are going to regret me, Mr. Darcy, I would you did so now rather than later.” It would break her heart, but she must know.

He took the letter and read it without taking a seat.

“What is this about Mr. Collins?” he inquired.

Oh dear. Perhaps she ought not to have simply handed the letter over. “Now it is my turn to ask that you keep a confidence for me.”

“Of course.”

“My family knows, and I believe Charlotte Lucas, but she did not hear it from me. Mr. Collins made me an offer of marriage and was refused.” Several times, but she did not say that aloud.

Mr. Darcy’s countenance underwent several changes. His mouth fell open a little, his eyes closed, he shook his head once in a tight little tug, and then he composed himself again. “My aunt’s rector made you an offer of marriage?”

“Is that so difficult to believe?”

“Not that he would offer, of course, but that he believed he was worthy of you⁠—”

“Mr. Collins is my father’s heir, Mr. Darcy. He will have Longbourn one day, and as unwelcome as his offer was, he made it in part so that my mother and sisters would not lose their home.”

Mr. Darcy muttered something she could not hear but then said, “Fortunately, you were sensible enough to refuse him.” His eyes widened. “Is that why you are in London? Did your parents send you away?”

“My father agreed with my refusal. But it was easier to have me in London for a few weeks so that my mother would not lament quite so loudly. And then it was decided that Jane should accompany me.”

“Your sister was not the only reason you came to town.”

She would be fair here. “No, although I suppose it might appear that way, especially as I could not speak about Mr. Collins. Jane wished to know about Mr. Bingley, one way or another. I was only too happy to leave my mother at home and give her time to recover.” She paused. “We came for each other.”

Mr. Darcy’s brows knitted together as he returned to the letter.

She watched his face for the expression she had seen at Netherfield, when Sir William had spoken of Jane’s engagement as a certain event. It did not come. One corner of his mouth did tighten slightly as he read.

“Your mother thinks better of my house than of me,” he said.

“Well, you did insult her daughter’s looks,” Elizabeth said with a small shrug. “Capital offence, you know.”

“I see.” He finished reading, then folded the letter along its creases and handed it back to her. “I told you yesterday that your family did not signify. That was untrue. They mean a great deal to you, and so they must also to me.”

Elizabeth looked down at the letter in her hands.

“I wrote to my aunt last night to inform her that she may meet the Gardiners and Mrs. Bennet when we are all in London together. Your father too, if he can be persuaded to travel.”

Despite everything, Elizabeth laughed. “You did not write that.”

He smiled. “I did. I have been told I must stop deciding what is best for other people and thought I had better begin with my own relations. They now know the truth and must decide on their own how they mean to respond. I am master of my own sentiments and intentions; I cannot be master of theirs.”

Elizabeth worried her bottom lip. “I was unjust to you yesterday.”

“I did not give you a good answer.”

“No,” she agreed. “But it was an honest one. I find I prefer that.”

“Honest is not the same as correct. You were right to question me.”