Thanks for the many reviews for the previous chapter – I really wanted to continue writing, but was getting stuck on the next bit. I wanted it to be a great chapter so spent my time on it. I will do my best to update again quickly, but please please review – it makes the author happy! ;)

Chapter 14

Mr Darcy was in his study still reeling from Lady Catherine's visit earlier. He cursed himself now for losing his temper and throwing his aunt out of his house. He could only pray that his 'spy' had not heard his angry defence of Elizabeth, as it would just reconfirm the belief that he valued her above anything else, even his family. Mr Darcy groaned, his head resting against the cool window pane. He wanted to inform Colonel Fitzwilliam of the visit, however had been unable to find him anywhere for the past three hours. Mr Darcy was terrified that he had ruined all of his efforts to distance himself from Elizabeth. He had already blundered twice in his plan, the first was in making love to Elizabeth last night, and the second was in defending her so forcefully this morning. Mr Darcy knew not how he could bear it any longer.

He did not register the sound of an angry Elizabeth storming through the house until she entered his office.

The wind blew the leaves from the trees, the clouds darkened overhead, and low rumbles of thunder sounded. Elizabeth did not notice, as she strode angrily towards the house, determined to confront Mr Darcy as soon as possible. Her footsteps resonated through the empty halls of Pemberley as she made her way, unchallenged, to his study.

Without pausing to knock, Elizabeth opened the door, and positioned herself in front of Mr Darcy's desk, hands on her hips and temper flaming. "Do you have any idea what you have done?" She demanded, her cheeks streaked with slashes of crimson. Her hands shook with a fury that she had never experienced. She didn't even notice that Mr Darcy stood with his head resting on the window pane, a picture of despondency.

Mr Darcy was weary, the scene with Lady Catherine this morning had taken the last reserves of his energy, and now to have Elizabeth facing him, looking like a vengeful goddess, threatened his peace of mind even further. He did not want to have to do this right now. When he spoke, it was half with exasperation and half with resignation. "Pray, please tell me what you are speaking of?"

"Are you telling me that you are so unconcerned by what you have done that you don't know?" Elizabeth asked incredulously. "Or could it be that there are so many misdeeds that you cannot deduce of which one I am speaking?" She spoke hotly, ignoring the look of utter shock on Mr Darcy's face.

When he had recovered, Mr Darcy spoke. "Elizabeth, I do not have time for guessing games. If you do not inform me as to what you are referring, and cease insulting me, I will conclude this interview immediately." His anger was increasing by the moment. All he had attempted to do was protect the woman he loved to his own pain and suffering, and here she was challenging him with a passionate rage.

"You cannot just walk away from me, Sir, when what I say is not to your liking."

"I can, and I will, Madam!" Mr Darcy strode around to the front of his desk where Elizabeth stood, towering over her in his own increasingly volatility.

"I suppose I should not be surprised," Elizabeth countered, not flinching away from the intimidating stance of her husband. "After all, running away is what you seem to do best." The words were designed to sting and sting they did.

However, Mr Darcy refused to show that Elizabeth had wounded him with the blow. He raised his eyebrow in sardonic query, inviting yet challenging her to continue. Elizabeth stumbled on the next words. "You couldn't escape fast enough this morning, could you?" She questioned, pausing before continuing in a rush of words. "Or at the ball when you practically ran from me in the garden, or after the accident at Lambton. It seems to me that at every sign of trouble or confrontation, you..."

Mr Darcy cut her off with angry retaliation. "Is that what this is all about then?" He sneered, eyes cold and dark. "Has your pride been injured by my refusal to act as your lap dog? Am I not paying enough attention to pamper your vanity?" As soon as he spoke the words, Mr Darcy regretted them. Elizabeth was speechless, stunned into hurt by the cruel words, and for a moment could not find the words to respond. Mr Darcy did not know what had possessed him to say what he had. Elizabeth was the least vain woman he knew, and the words were untrue. He made an apologetic move towards his wife, her eyes brimming with hurt that she was unable to completely hide. "Elizabeth... I didn't mean..." But as he would have touched her, Elizabeth stepped back as if burned.

"You are mistaken, Sir," she spoke in a dangerous whisper, her eyes pricking with unshed tears. "That was not what I was speaking of when I entered the room, although your behaviour towards me has been abominable. I was referring to your callous dismissal of Lucy and Peter's father. How can you live with yourself after breaking up a family so cruelly? How can such actions be justified?" Elizabeth demanded, warming to her theme.

"You, Madam, have no idea what you are speaking of. Can you really trust me so little that you would think I would do so without good reason?" His manner had quietened, as he pleaded with Elizabeth to understand.

"Explain to me your reasons, then?" Elizabeth refused to relent. This time, she was going to get answers, no matter what she had to do.

"I cannot. You will have to trust me." Mr Darcy spoke.

"How am I supposed to trust the man who has shut me out for weeks?" Elizabeth reasoned, her voice softening as she relived the hurt that he had inflicted. "How can I believe what you say when you promised me on our wedding trip that we would never sleep apart, and again and again that you loved and adored me?"

Mr Darcy stared at his wife, moved beyond restraint. He bit his tongue to stop from declaring his undying devotion to Elizabeth where they stood. "Have you nothing to say, Sir?" Elizabeth demanded, when he did not respond.

Mr Darcy forced himself to say the words, whilst promising himself that this would all be over soon. "What would you have me say?" He shrugged with seeming nonchalance.

Elizabeth retreated in shock. "You have answered me with your cold and unfeeling response. I don't believe that you ever loved me the way you said. I believe that you merely wanted to win me. That I was a challenge to you that you could not resist."

"You speak nonsense, Madam." Mr Darcy turned his back to Elizabeth so that she would not see the war that was raging within himself. This was all for the good.

"Nonsense..." Elizabeth's voice became shrill, and she winced to hear it. Softening, she continued her tirade. "I do not speak nonsense, and if I did, you would be vehemently denying it. Instead you stand there, cold and remote, refusing to look at me. You never changed, did you?" She whispered the final words, gulping as she held back the threatening tears. "You just pretended to change until you became bored of the challenge. You made me love you... rely on you... and then you discarded me as if I were nothing. Well, it serves me right for believing that you were a better man than the likes of Mr Wickham. For ever believing you were anything but the proud and arrogant man that I first took you for." Elizabeth walked to the door, pausing as she turned the door handle. Her parting words were muffled. " I hope that you are proud of yourself, Sir, for deceiving me so wholly, and that you may live with your decision for the rest of your lonely life." She slipped from the room quietly, vision blurred with unrestrained tears as she ran to her chamber.

Mr Darcy shook with passion. He could not move for long moments, while the merciless words resounded through his head and heart. His whole being ached, both for his beautiful, injured, Elizabeth, and for himself. He would never wish for anyone to think of him what she just revealed. But Mr Darcy knew somewhere deep within himself that she wouldn't be so distressed if she didn't love him. He knew that he hadn't lost her yet... but resolved to try to make it up with Elizabeth, before she could harden her heart towards him any further.

Her eyes burned from seemingly endless tears. When Mr Darcy entered Elizabeth's chamber, she sat in the window, her knees curled against her chest, her head against the window pane, her eyes vacant as she stared out into the dark night.

"Elizabeth..." Darcy spoke tentatively from the door, advancing to the bed but not beyond. He wanted to reach out for her, but as yet, did not know where he stood with his wife.

She did not look up, and gave hardly any indication that she had heard him. Her husky whisper was so soft that it could have been imagined. "Go away."

"Elizabeth... please, you misunderstood..." He spoke, advancing towards Elizabeth, so close that he could touch her.

"Will you give me your reasons for dismissing Peter Smith?" Elizabeth whispered.

"I wish I could tell you, Lizzie, I wish that I could make all this pain disappear. I promise that I will tell you as soon as I am at liberty to, please say you will wait?"

"I heard what you said to Lady Catherine." Elizabeth spoke tentitavely, and Darcy groaned inwardly with despair. "Perhaps it did not turn out as I had expected! Those were your words. You do not have to lie to me anymore, Sir. I know that you think me a disappointment, and I will stay out of your way from this moment on."

Darcy placed a hand on Elizabeth's soft hair, and stroked it, pleading with her to listen. "Listen to me... I did not mean..."

She jerked her head away. "I don't want you to touch me, Sir!" she spat. "Just forget it. I do not wish to know."

"Elizabeth... please?" Mr Darcy pleaded, his heart breaking for his wife.

"Leave me alone. I am tired." It was her last word.

Elizabeth, my love,

You cannot imagine how broken I am at this moment. My heart truly aches for us, sweetheart. I believe that we both have an equal measure of pain this night – you, because you believe that I never truly loved you – and me, because you believe that I am a cruel and selfish man and will not forgive me.

How I wish that I could come up to our chamber this moment, and sweep you into my arms, and kiss away all of the tears that you have shed over this. That I could tell you everything, my love, and calm all those fears you have. That I could cradle you in a warm embrace forever, and smell your familiar, enticing scent.

Lizzie, I could not resist you last night when I came home and found you sleeping in my bed. And for that I sincerely apologise. For if I had not given in to my need for you, we may have been able to delay this confrontation for a few weeks longer – mayhap enough time for me to resolve this situation once and for all. When you came to me then, I would have explained everything – my reasons sound and solid.

What I said to Lady Catherine was unforgiveable, but I said it to convince anyone listening that I believed that I had made a mistake in marrying you. What I meant was that had things turned out the way I wanted, this separation would never have occurred, that you and I would have been together at that very moment. I hope you will believe that. I threw Lady Catherine out of the house when she insulted you too far, Lizzie, I suppose you did not hear that part of the conversation.

Just know my Lizzie, that I will always adore you. I pray that soon you can read this letter, as you can read my previous letters. You will then know that I rarely think of anything else, save you. To have you believe that I am what you first thought me, proud and arrogant, selfish and cold, is a torment for me, even though I am guilty of some of these things. I am not perfect, Lizzie, but towards you I could never be truly cold. You move me to feelings of the deepest regard, and I know that you always will.

Love forever,

Fitzwilliam

Please don't kill me! Please review!

In the next chapter: The observer reappears!