Chapter 2

Elizabeth stood for a brief moment, which felt like a very long time, with her back leaning against the wall of the temple where it was still warm from her own body being held against it.

How could I let that happen! What will become of my reputation? How could he? Does he wish to ruin me-make me and my family so disreputable that Mr. Bingley could never consider marrying Jane? He said he loves me! Most ardently! I would laugh if it were not such a poor jest. Surely he is deceiving himself. Or perhaps he merely wished to compromise me and thought such a declaration was his best chance for my compliance. Or, heaven forbid, he wishes to blackmail me into marrying him! If he told anyone, if word got back to my family of what happened, of my reaction! Oh who knew that I could react so to a man's touch! Any man's touch for Mr. Darcy is nothing to me! I never knew I possessed such wantonness! What he must think of me! My behavior will simply confirm the ill-breeding of my family of whom he is so quick to judge.

Why should I care what such a man thinks of me! He accosted me! He ruined my virtue if anyone were to have witnessed such a scene! What will I do if this gossip spreads? How can I avoid marrying him? He could not love me. He has only ever looked at me with displeasure . . . No

This is where Elizabeth's racing mind stopped. If there was one thing she was sure of it was that Mr. Darcy had most certainly not always looked at her only with displeasure. She knew that now. The look she saw when he held her to the temple after . . . what he did to her, did not show displeasure but passion or lust. That look, that glint in his eye, was present in every look she could remember from him, just to lesser degrees. She thought it anger in the past for having to tolerate her company and low birth or connections. But no, she knew now that he may not have desired her presence, but he did desire her in some more physical way. The idea of such a man looking at her for months with pure lust was quite frightening.

But that is what it must have been-lust, not love. He could never love me! He simply does not know himself. He expected me to drop into his arms because he offered them to me. A declaration of love would not have included doubts and concerns-but one of lust, a declaration triggered by lust would be nothing but doubts. Surely he will not push for marriage now.

Having come to this decision, Elizabeth felt somewhat more resolved. She could feel angry about lust combined with his actions toward her. She could treat him with scorn. Love was harder to jeer. His actions would still be wrong, but his motivation would be more honorable. With lust, even his motivation was disreputable.

Her anger was still profound, tears welled in her eyes from its intensity. However, she set off back to the parsonage with determination. The rain and her need to calm herself lead her to run. The fact that the same path lead to both Rosings and the Parsonage most directly motivated her to take a circuitous route to avoid passing Darcy.

That effort was for naught as not 100 yards from the temple, head down to avoid the rain, her whole body collided with a solid mass of person . .. of Mr. Darcy.

Mr. Darcy had stalked away from the temple with purpose but he did not make it far before he was practically kicking himself and ripping his hair out at his atrocious behavior.

What have I done? What have I done! What have I done? To the woman I love more than life itself no less! I accost her! Me! The 'fine gentleman' from Derbyshire. But I cannot love her anymore, she has refused me! . . . Who am I trying to fool, I could not love her any less if I tried. I ought to know, I have attempted to forget her for months! How am I to explain myself? How can I apologize? She will certainly never forgive me! And her words before I acted out so rashly! Wickham! Why has he taken yet another precious jewell from me? Could he know what he has done? The scoundrel! At least I may warn her about him. But why would she believe me? I am a disreputable man! WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Darcy paced, bending over and jerking up and down again while pulling at his hair as this litany flew through his head. He looked quite deranged, and had Elizabeth been looking, she may have even taken pity on him. Just as he turned and popped up from bent posture he felt the collision. He had not been looking at hist path at all. He certainly did not expect anyone else out and about in the rain. When he heard a faint "Oh!" he turned with such speed he needed to steady both himself and Elizabeth to prevent a fall.

"Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Bennet! I'm so sorry!" His apology merely increased her scorn as he was apologizing for the collision alone. He noticed her expression with concern.

"No need Mr. Darcy, I ran into you." She spoke with emotionless disdain as she tried to brush past him. He, however, had not removed his steadying hards from her waist.

"Oh no, well, of course I am sorry for obstructing your path. But you must let me express my deepest apologies for my mortifying behavior just before! I cannot imagine what came over me. You have every right to be extremely angry with me. What can I do to improve your opinion of me? To make it up to you? To prove that I am not such a wretched man as Wickham is? How can I prove that Leut. Wickham is not to be trusted? How will you ever trust me again?" He said the last question almost under his breath; the rest with speed and anxiety as if he could not stop himself.

"First, Mr. Darcy, I should very much like you to drop your hands an step away, you have compromised me enough already." He did so, though sheepishly, "Thank you. There is no need for this show. You cannot be seriously concerned for my opinion . . ."

"SHOW? Your opinion is the only one that matters!"

"Oh please. You do not truly regret what happened. I saw it satisfaction and lust in your face!"

"I cannot deny . . . you always . . . your presence has always . . . has always affected me . . ."

"Yes and clearly you found it acceptable to act on such feelings as if I were lowly woman, a woman who encourages . . . How dare you sir!" The tears had come to her eyes again. She did not wish him to see how upset he had made her and attempted to run again. She did not make it five strides before he was in front of her blocking her path again.

"No! No, Miss Bennet! I cannot allow you to run away from me believing that! I have never considered you anything but proper! It was me; my weakness lead to my horrible loss of control. I can never ask for your forgiveness with enough humility and remorse to warrant you granting it, but I ask anyway. Please! Please! Allow me to make amends!"

Elizabeth was shaking her head, "You ask too much, sir. You asked before how I could ever trust you again, but forget that I have never trusted you. You have never been anything but haughty to me and your pride has injured those around me. I cannot imagine what you think you could do to make amends!"

"Wickham again? Please allow me to set the record straight about that man! He is not what he claims to be . . ."

"He claims to be the son of your late father's steward, a fact which even Miss Bingley confirmed."

"Yes, he is that, which is possibly the only truthful thing he told you. He was a favorite of my father's, that I will not deny. My father wished to provide for him."

"But you did not wish it, which is why he is poor and leading the life of a soldier."

"No, that is his own doing." She tried to interrupt again, but he put his hand up, "Please, Miss Bennet, allow me to tell the whole story. I will not elaborate unnecessarily and if you still do not believe me you may question Col. Fitzwilliam." He waited for her acquiescence. She was obviously reluctant, but her curiosity on this subject had been too great from the start. After a slight nod of her head he continued.

"George Wickham grew up with me, as you seem to be aware. His father was a good man and he was a pleasure in my father's life. However, as we grew, my father never saw the aspects of his character of which I, as a young boy near his own age, was very aware. At Cambridge I avoided his company, not wishing to associated with his way of life. But details of that would not be proper for a young lady's ears."

She snapped he head at him, clearly she didn't appreciate being sheltered after his behavior. "I hardly think you can have much to say about being proper!"

She hit her mark. The wounded look on his face caught her by surprise. She almost regretted her vitriolic comment. But he recovered quickly.

"I certainly deserve such censure. But I maintain that I do not deserve all of your accusations. Wickham never hesitated to seduce young and innocent girls. If you believe nothing else, believe that I have never done that." She opened her mouth to protest but he continued on. "I did not seduce you, admittedly my behavior just now was perhaps less gentlemanly still, but I never thought of taking your virtue."

She gave him a very skeptical and disbelieving look. He had the grace to blush. "No, I promise you! I never considered compromising you in such a way. I merely could not contain my wish to . . . please you."

"Please me? I hardly think that was on the top of your mind in that moment!"

"I wished for you to feel some small part of the passion I feel for you. Had it been done for my pleasure . . . it would have ended differently." His voice started off very small, embarrassed by his words, but ended with more assurance.

She gave him a confused look. She was vaguely aware that the sensations he had elicited in her, specifically the rush of pleasure at the end that she was unaware of being possible, had not been paralleled by him. However, her knowledge of such things was limited, so she did not question it for long.

"You had better continue your story for my patience with your presence in wearing thin."

Darcy readily obeyed, glad for her interest and lack of argument. He was already being much more vocal, especially about his very personal feelings, than he had ever been before. He was glad she did not push him to explain further since he was not certain he would have been able to say more. He was already flushed. He hoped she would attribute it to anger over the story he was sharing rather than his embarrassment over how he would have wished the events at the temple to end.

"Very well. In my father's will, he recommended to me that when next a certain valuable family living should become available it should be given to Wickham, in addition to a bequeath of 1000 pounds. Wickham, however, claimed to have finally settled against taking orders, and desired to study law. He suggested that the interest from 1000 pounds would not be enough to maintain him. He hoped for a more immediate advantage than the living that could no longer benefit him. I provided him with an additional 3000 pounds, for which he gave up any right to the living when it should fall. I hoped he was in earnest, for I knew he should not be a clergyman, and wished him some occupation."

Elizabeth betrayed some surprise on her face at such a sum. Darcy was glad to see it, but did not allow it to show.

"Upon receiving the money, Wickham essentially disappeared. At first there was some show of studying Law, but even that was quickly forgotten. I know not how he lived, until the promised living became vacant. Then, Wickham presumed to show himself again at Pemberley. He stated that he was firmly resolved to take orders, should I bestow the living on him, and that he was in some financial distress. I knew the later to be true-Wickham did not have his father's skill at saving money, but his mother's skill in spending it. I refused him, naturally, and any remaining appearance of acquaintance was dropped between us. That is until . . ."

Mr. Darcy's voice dropped and he began to pace. The next part of the story was not precisely his story to tell. If Miss Bennet desired to hurt him, this knowledge would surely be the best way to do so. He could not allow her to persist in her good opinion of Wickham, however, and her face told him she was not convinced.

"Until what Mr. Darcy? Until you saw him again in Hertfordshire in my company? Was that his next offense? Daring to be in the militia?" The attempted sarcasm was muddled by some confusion in her tone. She was clearly eager for the rest of the story, but unsure if she believed any of it.

His resolve was fixed. "No, Miss Bennet, that was, unfortunately, not the next time I was in his presence. I will continue with this account, faithfully, just please know that this is difficult for me. My sister is the dearest person to me in the world."

Elizabeth looked at him with surprise, not knowing how his sister came to be part of the story. Curious, she nodded her head in acknowledgment and he continued.

"Last summer Georgiana was to holiday at Ramsgate with her companion Mrs. Younge, in whose character I was sadly deceived. They went and Wickham, presumably by design, followed. There seems to have been some previous acquaintance between him and Mrs. Younge. Georgiana remembered him fondly from her youth and Mrs. Younge encouraged their acquaintance, allowing him greater access than any man ought to have to a young girl not yet out in society. Wickham soon proclaimed his love for Georgiana and convinced her to elope with him. At this point I arrived unexpectedly, having concluded my business in town faster than anticipated. I owe the credit of this knowledge to Georgiana herself. Upon my arrival she confessed the scheme to me, the brother she looked up to as almost a father."

The bitterness his his voice almost elicited sympathy from Elizabeth, almost. She was certainly listening with rapt attention. Darcy was hardly aware of this though, he had continued his pacing, head down. He had not heard her slight gasp at the mention of eloping, or seen her hand flying to cover her mouth.

"She told me all. I, of course, immediately put a stop to it. I found out Wickham's lodging and made it known that he would never receive even a pence of her inheritance should he continue his scheming. He fled, not hesitating to admit that his goal was her fortune, which is to be 30,000 pounds."

Here he looked up and was surprised to see the look of shock on Elizabeth's face. It was satisfying to think she believed him, but he did not let that show, just continued on.

"Georgiana has not been the same since. She blames herself for being naive and allowing him liberties that she should not. I do not mean to say anything untoward, of course, but she should not agreed to his schemes. But she is far too young to be held accountable for such faults, certainly not when dealing with such a practiced seducer. She was but 15 years old."

"I must express that though you may care not a whit for me . . . especially after my behavior towards you today, but my sister is a sweet girl, shy and unassuming. If you wish to hurt me, I ask that this information not be a part of it. Though hurting my sister would certainly be the surest way to torture me, and I know I have no right to ask anything of you, I ask anyway . . ."

"You need not worry of such stories spreading through my lips. I do not wish to compromise innocent girls' reputations." The comment was clearly meant to be harsh again, but something in that intent failed.

"I am indebted to you for that. Only Col. Fitzwilliam, as her joint guardian, and I are aware of those events. As I said before, if you do not trust me, you may confer with him about the truth of it."

"And would your cousin tell tales of his dear cousin's fallen virtue to a young girl of no importance, slight acquaintance, and wholly unconnected with him?" Mr. Darcy blushed and shook his head about to intercede, when she continued. "No, I think it more likely he will spout whatever story you tell him to say, he is, after all, at your disposal."

Mr. Darcy's blush turned to anger. "I know you are angry with me, but would you honestly believe I would make up such stories about my sister?"

"No, no I do not. I believe you would maintain your family pride at almost any cost." Her voice was low and unsure.

Mr. Darcy did not like the implications of the end of her statement, but held on to the beginning. "Then you believe my account of Wickham?"

"I do not yet know why you would make up such an account, what motivation you could have." She was speaking almost to herself.

"I want you to know the truth. Please believe me. We can find Fitzwilliam now and I will tell him in front of you to answer your questions honestly. Would that help? Or I can send for the paperwork. I have his signature on papers giving up the living." He had stopped his pacing and was standing in front of her trying to gauge her reaction. His task was made more difficult by her downcast face and desire for him not to see.

Finally she looked up, restrained tears making her eyes glisten, while she attempted composure and assurance. "No, sir, that will not be necessary."

"Then you believe me?" His face was so hopeful that she reluctantly nodded.

"I suppose I must."

Without allowing her to continue, or processing her reluctance he sped on, "How else can I redeem myself? I cannot take back what I did, but what else can I do?"

Elizabeth almost laughed at his eagerness to please. Since when had proud Mr. Darcy been so vocal? She had never heard so many words come from him at once. She was on the point of laughing at him when he struck on a topic not nearly as humorous to her.

"Your sister! Was she truly in love with Mr. Bingley?"

"Are you going to promise to make Mr. Bingley marry her?" Elizabeth said with derision.

"No, Bingley is his own man, I cannot promise anything of the sort. But if she truly loved him . . . well then I can encourage his return to Hertfordshire. Or I can inform him of her presence in town, of which I am sure he is yet unaware." He watched her reaction eagerly.

"My sister is very reserved, but I assure you she was severely saddened by his abrupt departure. Her heart was definitely touched." Elizabeth paused ever so briefly before gaining more confidence. "Despite your disdain for my family, even you admitted that my sister and I should be excluded from censure of them. Know that, whatever impression my mother might convey, we are not fortune hunters."

"Miss Bennet, I have obviously wronged you in many ways, ways that I had not realized. Bingley was a lucky man to have engaged the affection of such a woman." He conceded.

"Thank you, but words do not negate actions. The harm you caused her will not be undone. Months of heartache and confusion are not to be forgotten because of an apology."

"Of course not! How else can I make amends? I will write to Bingley immediately. But . . . a gift perhaps?"

A look of indignation crossed her face. "You wish to buy my forgiveness? I have no interest in you nor your money. In fact, at this moment my greatest wish is to be far away from you!" With that she attempted to get past him again.

He grabbed her arm and she shot him a look of deepest loathing. "Please Miss Bennet!"

"Sir, you will remove your hand and let me leave! I do not know what is possessing you to court my forgiveness with such vehemence. You cannot change who you are . . ."

"But I told you! I love you! I wish to marry you!"

"And I already told you, you are the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry! Perhaps I was wrong about Wickham, but you provided a new reason today for my disdain of your character! You cannot honestly believe I would wish to marry you. Just as I do not honestly believe you wish to marry me."

"But of course I do! I will do whatever it takes to prove it to you."

"Your behavior is that of a man experiencing lust not love." With that he dropped her hand in surprise and she ran off in the opposite direction. This time he did not chase her.

"Perhaps your assessment of my behavior is accurate, dear Elizabeth, but you will see. I will prove my love for you!" Darcy said this to himself as she was out of sight now. As he walked back to Rosings, his resolution was set. He would make Elizabeth Bennet love him.