Till Elizabeth entered the drawing-room at Netherfield and looked in vain for Mr. Wickham among the cluster of red coats there assembled, a doubt of his being present had never occurred to her. Her youngest sister applied to Mr. Denny for an explanation, and the young man told them that Mr. Wickham had returned to town for urgent business. He added that he did not imagine the business would have called him away so urgently if he had not wished to avoid a certain gentleman. Denny nodded toward the doorway, and Elizabeth turned to see Mr. Darcy looking at her. She nervously turned away from him back to her small group, hoping the color did not rise in her cheeks. The conversation carried on by the others was lost on her, and her attentions were not reclaimed until her cousin approached her for their set.

Mr. Collins proved a miserable dance partner, often stepping wrongly and apologizing constantly. At a turn in the sequence, Elizabeth again met Mr. Darcy's eyes from across the room. With a flutter in her chest, she quickly looked away and avoided glancing toward that corner during the rest of the dance. When she was finally released, she noticed Mr. Darcy approaching, but she turned to an officer near her and was able to secure the next dance. Elizabeth witnessed Mr. Darcy's annoyed expression at her having escaped him.

Her dance with the officer was more pleasant in execution, but every turn brought her face to face with Mr. Darcy, who stood by the perimeter of the movement, his gaze never venturing from her. After the music stopped, she was in a position to exit the floor opposite him and moved toward her friend, Charlotte Lucas. She hoped that by engrossing in conversation with her, Mr. Darcy would keep his distance, but she soon found herself addressed by him. He took her so much by surprise in his application for her hand, that, without knowing what she did, she accepted him.

The dancing recommenced then, and he extended his hand to escort her to the floor. Elizabeth eyed him warily, but when she slipped her hand into his, she felt a heat exuding from his palm and a shock run up her arm. He seemed tense, and she was unsure of her own feelings. She had certainly hoped to avoid him tonight, but whether it was out of anger or embarrassment she could not decide.

Mr. Darcy knew from the moment he saw Elizabeth that she was avoiding his company. He watched her dance with an awkward, ugly man first and grew increasingly frustrated after she next stood up with an officer. He was clearly trying to gain her attention from across the room, but she seemed determined not to look at him. Darcy stayed close by to make sure he could gain the next dance with her, but her exiting the floor and moving away from him delayed his advances again. Now that he finally had her attention though, he suddenly felt words escape him. They could hardly hold the conversation he wished to have in a crowded ballroom during a dance.

They stood for some time without speaking a word, but Elizabeth was not unaffected by his touch. One intimacy of the dance brought his hand to her lower back as they promenaded, and their frequent handholding still sent her stomach aflutter. Determined not to let her emotions show, she reminded herself over and over in her head that he was promised to his cousin and that she still did not even know his true opinion of her.

The thought that they might make it through two dances without a word spoken crossed her mind when he made some observation about the dance, and she replied with a remark on the number of couples. After another pause of some minutes, the sequence brought them to the end of the line away from most of the crowd, and they turned toward each other.

"Miss Elizabeth, we must talk," Mr. Darcy stated in a low, quiet voice.

"Must we?" she rejoined, looking archly at him. "I cannot think of two people who have less to say for themselves."

"You are angry with me."

She remained silent as their formation with another couple brought them apart.

"This is hardly talk for a ballroom dance, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth eventually supplied as they rejoined.

"Then where and when might we speak?" he asked. "I did not find you in your own home when I called. I can only seem to stumble across you in Meryton, and then there was little opportunity."

"You did not stay long enough in Meryton to join our conversation," she said as she noticed his complexion darken. "When you met us there we had just been forming a new acquaintance."

"Mr. Wickham is blessed with such happy manners as may ensure his making friends- whether he may be equally capable of retaining them, is less certain."

"He has been so unlucky as to lose your friendship and in a manner which he is likely to suffer from all his life," replied Elizabeth.

It was worse than Darcy initially imagined. He thought her distance of this evening was due to his delay in speaking to her, but it appeared that Wickham had also insinuated himself.

Elizabeth continued, "I remember you once saying that your good opinion once lost was lost forever. Are you careful in forming those opinions?"

"I am."

"And never allow yourself to be blinded by prejudice?"

"I hope not," he replied with a firm voice wondering at the direction of her speech. "May I ask to what these questions tend?"

"Merely to the illustration of your character," she said, endeavoring to shake off her gravity. "I am trying to make it out and determine your opinion."

"In regards to Mr. Wickham or toward yourself? I readily believe that your performance in sketching my character at the present moment would do no credit to either of us."

"But if I do not take your likeness now, I may never have another opportunity. We have now been in company twice since the first time you said we needed to talk, yet nothing of substance has been said. I cannot imagine how I might sketch your character based on conversations that may never happen, so I must use what little information I have."

The dance came to an end and each applauded politely for the musicians and other dancers. Mr. Darcy escorted Elizabeth from the floor. She made to remove her arm but instead found him firmly guiding her toward the doors to the terrace. Mr. Darcy was relieved to find it unoccupied, and breathed easier knowing that they might now have a few minutes to discuss what had transpired the previous week at Netherfield and apparently whatever lies Wickham had espoused.

"Is it wise for us to be out here alone, Mr. Darcy?" Elizabeth asked stiffly, "I would not want rumors to inconvenience you in any way."

Darcy eyed her warily, trying to read where her present hostility was truly stemming from. When he had come to her room in Netherfield, she was embarrassed by their actions, but welcoming of his attention. Now she seemed distant and cold. He had not expected this reaction, though he hardly knew what he should have thought. The fact that she had not come down to see him at Longbourn was a hint at her feelings, but seeing her apparent anger in full force surprised him.

"Elizabeth, surely you must know that I have tried to speak with you sooner regarding that night… but between the rain and your feeling ill the day I did come to Longbourn, could I have said anything sooner?" he implored.

Elizabeth, a little jarred by his intimate use of her name, replied, "And what would you have said to me, Mr. Darcy? There is no one aware of what has transpired. No one to call you out or besmirch my character. What can there be left to discuss other than assurances of my secrecy? Do not worry, I will say nothing of what transpired between us; your engagement faces no threat from me."

"Engagement?" Darcy inquired, but before he could continue, the door to the terrace opened. Miss Bingley approached them exclaiming how she had been looking all over for Mr. Darcy as dinner was starting and he had promised to escort her to the dining room. She cast a glare at Elizabeth as she took Darcy's arm. "Miss Eliza! I hear from your sister you are quite enchanted with Mr. Wickham! Did he not tell you he was the son of the late Mr. Darcy's steward? He has treated the family in a most infamous manner, though Mr. Darcy is not the least to blame!" She smiled up at him, oblivious to the angry look upon his face. "I pity you for the discovery of your favorite's guilt, but considering his descent, one could not expect much better. Mr. Darcy, is that not correct?"

Elizabeth did not await his reply before responding that she was aware of his descent from Mr. Wickham's own telling, but would not align on the implication of this guilt and descent being of the same matter. Mr. Darcy looked as though he wished to interject, but she had heard enough to know she would receive no satisfactory reply. She left the couple on the terrace and found her family entering the dining room.

The evening continued to spiral downward. All throughout dinner, her mother spoke gregariously and within earshot of Mr. Darcy of the fortunate alliance her Jane was about to make with Mr. Bingley. Elizabeth tried to quiet her mother, noticing Mr. Darcy's attitude tense with every loud proclamation of excitement from Mrs. Bennet. Her younger sisters flirted loudly with every officer in sight. Mary led an inappropriately long set on the pianoforte before her father stepped in to publically ask her to stop. Mr. Collins even interrupted Mr. Darcy's dinner to introduce himself as Lady Catherine's parson and cousin to the charming Bennet family, and was not even properly embarrassed by Mr. Darcy's cold reception of him. The only bright spot of the evening seemed to be Mr. Bingley's attentions to Jane and her sister's warm but quiet reception of them.

After dinner, Mr. Collins declared his intention to remain by her side, eliminating the possibility of other dance partners. Mr. Darcy also lurked a very short distance from her, but remained quiet and distant in his air. Charlotte Lucas managed to engage Mr. Collins's attention for a brief moment, and Elizabeth took the opportunity to slip away, noting that she would certainly owe her friend a long apology the next day. She managed to escape the ballroom relatively unnoticed, and turned down the hall to avoid the crowd. She slipped into the library and leant against the section of the bookcase where Mr. Darcy had first approached her, trying to sort out her thoughts and feelings in that regard. She had seen her family act with little regard for decorum before, and she feared that the only reason it now embarrassed her so fully was that she cared about Mr. Darcy's opinion of them and of her.

Darcy could not thank the brilliant Miss Lucas enough for distracting the ugly man who claimed to be Elizabeth's cousin so she could slip away from his officious notice. He saw her sneak out of the ballroom and knew that if he could find a few minutes with her now, he could set everything straight. He first found his man and sent him to his room to fetch a package, directing him to bring it discreetly to him in the library. He may not have seen her directly go there, but where else could she have gone?

He entered the library and, as expected, found her there leaned up against the shelves. Her arms were crossed, and she looked more exhausted than surprised to see him. He closed the door behind him and approached her. Standing in front of her, he lifted her chin to make her look at him. The doubt and uncertainty there caused him pain, but he longed to understand it.

Elizabeth felt Mr. Darcy's warm hand on her jawline, and cursed herself for feeling pleasure at his touch. She moved away from him and toward the window. "What do you want from me?" she questioned. "Have you followed me here for more intimacies? I am done being your plaything."

"Plaything?" his voice rose getting defensive at such an accusation. "I have nothing but noble intentions toward you, Elizabeth! How could you doubt such a thing?"

"But you are engaged to your cousin!" she replied, also raising her voice. He exhaled sharply and shook his head in disbelief.

"Did your own cousin who follows you around like a puppy dog tell you that? I shall have to have a word with my aunt that her parson is a spreader of false gossip about our family."

"It was not my cousin, but Mr. Wickham," she returned defensively. "He said you were intended for your cousin to unite the great estates of Pemberley and Rosings."

Darcy clenched his fists in anger. "I am not engaged, and I would caution you to think twice about anything that man tells you. Elizabeth, if you are in any doubt as to my intentions, you must know that I intend to behave honorably toward you. We must marry."

Elizabeth was astonished into silence at his proclamation. He continued on about his struggle with his duty to his position and his duty to her given his actions. He spoke of his growing attraction for her, but there were feelings besides those to be detailed, and he was not more eloquent on the subject of tenderness than of pride. His sense of her inferiority- of its being a degradation- of the family obstacles which judgment had always opposed to inclination, were dwelt on with warmth which seemed due to the consequence he was wounding. He continued on in such a manner for several minutes.

Elizabeth felt the sting of his words as it echoed her previous fears of her feeling that she was so below him that he could approach her in such a manner. The only thing that surprised her was that he felt it within his duty to actually propose marriage. She interrupted him as his speech was winding down and stated, "Mr. Darcy, as I previously said, you need not feel an obligation to me. Consider your duty fulfilled in offering your hand in marriage, but I am not of the opinion that we must marry."

He waited for her to continue, but when she did not, he asked if that was all the reply he was to receive.

"You told me you liked me against your will, against your reason, and even against your character! Am I to enter into a marriage without respect? From the earliest moments of our acquaintance you have given me every reason to dislike you. Despite my weakness at your attentions, my feelings toward you, though not indifferent, have been unimpressed by your pride and mistreatment of those you find below you. Your opinion of me was clearly so low to approach me in such an ungentlemanly manner, and my doubt of your character was further solidified by your mistreatment of Mr. Wickham."

"What lies did Mr. Wickham tell you exactly?"

Elizabeth repeated Mr. Wickham's tale to a clearly affected Mr. Darcy. He shook his head in disbelief as he replied, "And this is your opinion of me! This is the estimation in which you hold me. A story from a man you hardly know and throwing against me my own feelings because they did not flatter you. Did you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your connections? To congratulate myself on the hope of relations so decidedly beneath my own?"

Elizabeth replied with composure, "You are mistaken, Mr. Darcy if you suppose that the mode of your declaration affect me in any other way than as it spared me the concern which I might have felt in refusing you, had you behaved in a more gentleman-like manner."

A soft knock came at the door. Elizabeth started looking nervously at Mr. Darcy. If they were caught alone together now, it would certainly lead to scandal, and after her blunt refusal of him, she feared forcing them both into an unhappy situation. He approached the door, and found his man behind it.

"I apologize for the delay, sir. Here is the package you requested. And a letter just arrived by express," Carson stated.

"Thank you, but I no longer need the package," Mr. Darcy said handing the small box back to Carson. "I will read my letter in here, please see to it that no one enters." His man nodded and left. Mr. Darcy had held the door so that Elizabeth was not seen, for which she was grateful.

Darcy looked briefly at Elizabeth, but turned away from her as he tore open the letter. He recognized his sister's hand. After a few moments, he let out an exclamation, and pounded his fist against the mantle. Elizabeth started at his outburst, unsure of how she could leave now without being seen given his attendant was standing outside the door. Mr. Darcy moved toward her, handing out the letter.

"Here is a testimony to you favorite's character," Darcy said thrusting the letter into her hands. She picked it up and read curiously.

Dearest William,

I am sorry to disrupt your stay with Mr. Bingley, but I must alert you to what has transpired. As I walked out this morning with Mrs. A- we were approached by none other than George Wickham. He took me by surprise, and could not make a scene in public, but I am now afraid to go out for meeting him. He talked of continued feelings for me to the point where Mrs. A became uncomfortable. I do not know what to do or how to react. Just as I was recovering from the trauma of this summer and my foolish actions, he has returned me to turmoil. If you cannot come back quickly, let me join you in Hertfordshire where I know I can be away from him and safe with you. Please respond quickly, dear brother, for I do not intend to leave the house until I know I will not meet him again.

Yours,

Georgiana

"What does this mean?" inquired Elizabeth, aghast at the thought that the charming Mr. Wickham had upset the younger sister of Mr. Darcy with his attentions.

Mr. Darcy then related his side of his tale with Mr. Wickham, elaborating on the specific details of the living being rejected by Wickham as well as his attempted elopement with his sister the past summer. "She was then but 15 years old," he concluded to a stunned Elizabeth. "I am sorry to disabuse you of your opinion of him, but he is not to be trusted."

Elizabeth sat in silence, having retired to the settee during his speech as her shock grew during the story.

"I am shocked, stunned," was all she could manage to reply. A doubt of its being true could not hold up to the honesty of detail that Mr. Darcy had provided, especially in regards to his own sister.

Mr. Darcy approached but remained standing before her. "Truly, Miss Elizabeth, I would have stayed here to argue the necessity of marriage between us, but as such an event has arisen, I must leave immediately for London to secure my sister's safety. I ask you once more, will you not consider my proposal? I understand there are differences of opinion to work though, but perhaps my version of dealings with Mr. Wickham may have assuaged some of those doubts. The others we can discuss, but I feel an obligation given my actions to ensure we marry."

She looked up at him, seeing a look of desperation there. For a moment, she considered it. He had been kind in their interactions, and perhaps she might be as happy as any woman finds herself in the marriage state. But recollections of his pride and his opinion of her family intruded. Would he simply carry her away to Pemberley and never associate with a Bennet again? She could not imagine finding happiness in such an arrangement.

He knelt before her to bring his face even with hers. "I noticed your cousin's attentions to you. Do you see yourself as obligated to him?"

"I am not obligated to my cousin in any way, and would never enter into any arrangement where I cannot respect my partner and he cannot respect me. My family's situation with the entail does not factor into my decision regarding you," replied Elizabeth defensively.

"Does your family agree with your intention to deny your cousin?" asked Mr. Darcy, trying to regulate his offense.

"He has not made any offer, so the issue has not presented itself."

"The situation will arise, and I fear that you will be forced into a situation most unpalatable to you."

"My family would not force me into any such arrangement, and I have given him no sort of encouragement."

"Ladies have been forced into marriage for far less advantage than an entailment, despite their feelings on the matter."

Elizabeth glared back at him, again taking offense at his estimation of her family's motives.

"Thank you for setting right my misconceptions about Mr. Wickham," she replied after a small pause. "But as long as I can leave this room tonight without the taint of scandal, I find it unnecessary to pursue marriage. Given your previous sentiments, congratulate yourself on your escape from such connections and do not feel as though you have wounded me in any other way."

He rose, and with a curt bow and a meek "God bless you," he left. She overheard him tell his man to ready his things, and then he was gone. She waited another ten minutes before venturing to the hallway. Upon seeing it empty, she returned to the ballroom. When her cousin approached her to ask where she had disappeared to, she merely replied that she had sought some fresh air, and he was satisfied with her reply.