Good morning! This is the final installment in our little tale. It has been a pleasure to write, and I hope you all leave lots of comments if you enjoyed it! Have a terrific weekend!—Elaine Owen

"My behavior has been less than gentlemanly," I was forced to admit, though it went against the grain. "How do I atone?"

Miss Elliot looked around the room thoughtfully. "Your comment about my friend's looks injured her feelings. You might wish to start there."

I had already forgotten it. "What do you mean?"

"When you said she was tolerable, but not handsome enough to tempt you."

I recalled the lady's lustrous hair, her light and pleasing figure. "I only said that in order to put Bingley off. Who was she?"

"She is the friend I mentioned earlier, the one with whom I am staying, Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn. Your friend is overflowing with admiration of her older sister."

Bingley and his partner, Jane Bennet, moved past us just then, and I saw that he did, indeed, seem enchanted. "I would not want my carelessness to injure Bingley in her eyes."

"Nor will it. Elizabeth is not petty. But you do owe her an apology."

"Would it be enough if I were to ask her to dance?"

"That would be a good start."

"I will ask Bingley for an introduction."

With that the dance was over. I led my partner off the floor and stopped near Wentworth, who was staring pointedly away from us, in that fixed attitude people assume when they pretend they are ignoring someone. I took Miss Elliot's hand in mine and made a show of bowing over it to kiss it, a gesture I never use. "Miss Elliot, it has been a tremendous pleasure." I said, speaking more loudly than is my wont, to make sure Wentworth would hear.

Miss Elliot replied politely, "The pleasure was mine."

"On the contrary, it was all mine. I hope we may meet again soon. Very soon." I sensed more than saw Wentworth stiffen in response. As I turned away from Miss Elliot I glanced at the gentleman and confirmed that my gesture had its intended effect. Jealousy is a poor mistress but sometimes a useful servant.

Bingley had likewise just come off the floor. He, Miss Bennet and Miss Elizabeth were standing together and I made my way straight to him. I made a mental note to apologize to him later, but for now I had to settle for, "Bingley, would you do me the honor of introducing me to your friends?"

Bingley was obviously surprised, but he has not a resentful bone in his body. He happily made the necessary introductions and I did my best to imitate his way of being agreeable to all. Miss Bennet must share some of Bingley's good nature for she met me with unassuming ease and grace. Miss Elizabeth, however, was another matter. When I bowed to her she looked at me skeptically and said as little as good manners would allow.

We made the usual polite conversation for a minute or two; then Bingley and Miss Bennet drifted away, leaving me with Miss Elizabeth. The last dance of the evening would be starting shortly, and I had little time left to correct my earlier failing. I addressed Miss Elizabeth with all the courtesy at my command. "Miss Bennet, may I have the honor of your hand for the final set, if you are not already engaged?"

"I thank you, Mr. Darcy, but I have no intention of dancing for the rest of the evening." The words were polite enough, but there was an edge in her voice.

I am not used to ladies turning me down, and for a moment I was taken aback. But I should not have been surprised. I had grievously insulted her, and she had no particular reason to give me another chance. I would have to try harder.

"I can assure you, Miss Elizabeth, that I did not ask you for a dance simply to fulfill a social obligation. Rather, it is the only means at my disposal to apologize for my insufferable manners earlier this evening."

"There is no reason to dance with someone you find merely tolerable, when an apology would suffice." She arched an eyebrow at me.

So, Elizabeth would not accept a meaningless gesture. She was determined to hold me to account in full. "I am deeply sorry, Miss Bennet, for speaking the way I did and injuring your feelings earlier this evening, and I humbly beg your forgiveness."

"Very well. You have asked my forgiveness and now you have it. There is no reason to put yourself to the trouble of a dance." She still looked at me challengingly.

(Have I mentioned, cousin, that Miss Elizabeth has the finest eyes I have ever seen in a lady? You will agree with me if you ever have the pleasure of meeting her.)

I was determined to win not just her forgiveness, but also her approval. "I hardly think a mere spoken apology is enough to atone for what I did. Please give me the pleasure of this dance, and allow me to show you that I can be much more of a gentleman than I have been so far this evening." I held out my hand.

She frowned and hesitated, but finally she placed her hand in mine. I read astonishment in the faces of all those around us as I led her to the floor. Were the onlookers amazed that I had returned to the dance, or that I had so quickly reversed my opinion of the lady in question?

The dance started and we moved through the opening steps without speaking. Elizabeth finally broke the silence between us. "How pleasant it is to be at a dance! How soon one tires of being at home, and looks forward to meeting with friends both old and new!"

I agreed, hardly knowing what I said, and the conversation halted once more. You know, cousin, how awkward I have always been in such settings. And I was overwhelmed by the beauty in front of me. Elizabeth's eyes and figure are only part of the dower given her by nature's sure hand. She also has regular features and a lovely complexion, and altogether she is one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance. I tried to think of an intelligent response but my powers of composition had utterly fled.

After a pause, Elizabeth addressed me again. "It is your turn to say something now, Mr. Darcy. I talked about the dance and you ought to make some sort of remark on the size of the room, or the number of couples."

Finally my mind began working again. I assured her that I would say whatever she wished me to say, and she answered, "Very well. That reply will do for the present. Perhaps by and by I may observe that private balls are much pleasanter than public ones. But now we may be silent."

By some miracle I conjured up a coherent answer: "Do you talk by rule, then, while you are dancing?"

"Sometimes. One must speak a little, you know. It would look odd to be entirely silent for half an hour together, and yet for the advantage of some, conversation ought to be so arranged as that they may have the trouble of saying as little as possible."

"Are you consulting your own feelings in the present case, or do you imagine that you are gratifying mine?"

"Both, for I see a great similarity in the turn of our minds. We are each of an unsocial, taciturn disposition, unwilling to speak, unless we expect to say something that will amaze the whole room."

She certainly summed up my disposition neatly, having known me for less than half an evening. "This is no very striking resemblance of your own character, I am sure. But as to mine, I am forced to admit- it is a faithful portrait. I am ill qualified to recommend myself to strangers."

"Can I ask you the reason for this? How a man of sense and education, who has lived in the world, is ill qualified to recommend himself to strangers?"

"I have not the talent which some people possess, of conversing easily with those I have never seen before. I cannot catch their tone of conversation, or appear interested in their concerns, as I often see done."

"I would think that you could become more proficient in these things if you would go to the trouble of practicing more."

It may seem that Miss Elizabeth was upbraiding me, and indeed she was. But there was such a mixture of archness and sweetness in her tone that I could not be offended. Besides this, her wit disarmed me. I was utterly undone in her presence.

Cousin, I think I have been bewitched. If you were to tell me that a divine hand arranged last night's events in order to show me my future path I would believe you. Society has its notions of the woman I should choose for my wife: handsome, wealthy, of good breeding, discreet and ladylike, and able to add to the honor of the Darcy family name. But last night I discovered for myself what I want in a wife: a wit that charms without malice, a sweetness that upbraids without anger, a level of perception exceeding my own, and above all, a pair of fine, bright eyes.

Bingley and I will shortly pass through Meryton on our way to call at Longbourn, so I will close this letter now in order to post it to you from there. Perhaps I will meet you again at Rosings. I understand that cousin Anne has a new companion by the name of Isabella Thorpe, who is both beautiful and charming, and that Lady Catherine particularly wishes to forward an acquaintance between you and this lady. Perhaps Miss Thorpe will capture your heart the way Elizabeth has already captured mine.

I almost forgot to tell you that I saw Miss Elliot and Wentworth one more time before the end of the evening. They went dancing past Elizabeth and myself, hand in hand, with such naked joy on each of their faces, so much pleasure in each other's company, that it was obvious they have reconciled. Wentworth will be a fool if he does not secure her hand immediately, in the most permanent way possible.

You can send your correspondence to me here at Netherfield, for I do not intend to leave this neighborhood until I have made my feelings known to Miss Elizabeth, however long that may take. Until that time I am

Your obedient servant,

Fitzwilliam Darcy