Elizabeth could barely breathe.

Throughout the rest of the sermon, her eyes kept catching Mr Darcy's.

How could one be so cruel?

His face was controlled, his icy blue eyes regarding her cooly her from a few pews over. Elizabeth was sure she didn't look so calm and collected. Her blood boiled as she sat there brewing in silence, her hands were squeezed into fists as she fought against her own mind to stay in her seat.

Once Mr Collins wished everyone a good day and prayers were said, she stood and fled the church as quickly as she could in fear of being forced to converse with the man.

How could he?

How could Mr. Darcy be so cruel?

She knew he wasn't the romantic type, she didn't dare think of him in such a way after what she had just been told in regards to her sister and Mr Bingley. Also because of the tale Mr Wickham had informed her of. She did secretly wish, deep down, that there was some sort of redeeming quality left to explain why her mind kept wandering to him. But it seems there was not. He is miserable, unkind and his heart must truly be full of hate for everyone around him to wish such unhappiness on the people he holds so dear to him. How could anyone do it, cause such pain and unhappiness to her gentle and kind sister, and even more, his own friend.

How cruel and mean he truly was.

As she ran along the soaked grass, the mud causing her to slip every few steps, she spotted a beautiful stone temple in the distance near a large lake. She headed towards it, trying to cover her eyes so she could see better as the rain continued to pour down on her.

Once under shelter, she leaned over to catch her breath. The rain ran from her hair and into her face, dripping to the floor from her nose. Slowly, she stood up straight and leaned against a column, still desperately trying to catch her breath. She released the scarf around her neck, trying to allow air in her lungs faster. She'd have to stay here until the rain calmed down, thunder roared in the distance sending goosebumps up her arm. She hoped it wasn't too long as she was sure she would freeze if it became dark.

A dark figure moved into her field of vision to her left, causing her to jump.

With a gasp, she turned to face the man.

It was Mr Darcy.

Had he followed her all this way?

"Miss Elizabeth…" He breathed, clearly as out of breath as she was. His eyes were fixated on her, the rain too running from his hair down his face. Elizabeth looked down, unable to look at him as he stared at her so intently. "I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer." She looked up at him when he said that. He has struggled? Him? She was sure he didn't know the meaning of the world. "These past months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you... I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth by rank and circumstance. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony."

She stared at him dumbfounded. "I don't understand-."

"I love you," He interrupted, unable to keep the words inside any longer. "Most ardently."

Elizabeth was truly at a loss. He loved her. Him? The man who she was sure didn't know what it was to love something. The man who had ruined her sister's life. The man who was staring at her with the widest eyes that was full of so much emotion, it was almost enough to trick her that he meant what he said.

"Please, do me the honor of accepting my hand." He finished as Elizabeth tried to find her words.

"Sir i-" She looked away, trying to think of what to say. Finally with another breath, she collected herself and stared at him cooly. " I appreciate the struggle you have been through, and I am very sorry to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done."

"Is this your reply?" He asked, trying to hide his shaking hands.

Elizabeth set her head high, "Yes sir."

He stepped closer, watching her face carefully. "Are you- are you laughing at me?"

"No." She replied.

"Are you rejecting me?" He asked sternly.

"I'm sure that the feelings which, as you've told me, have hindered your regard, will help you in overcoming it." She informed him, trying to make her feeling obvious.

She was insulted. How dare he! Who did he think he was coming and asking for her hand after all that he had done? Did he think she cared for herself and her family so little as to accept him? Surely if he knew her at all he would know that this was not the case.

"Might I ask why, with so little endeavor at civility, I am thus repulsed?" He questioned, still shocked at being rejected. Darcy never thought he would be proposing, not for a long time at least, but he had never thought that when he did there would have been a risk that the lady would reject him. But then, he had never met a woman quite like Elizabeth Bennett.

She stepped closer to him, anger now clear in her voice when she spoke next. "And I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgment."

"No believe me, i didn't-" Mr Darcy tried to explain, but Elizabeth was not done.

"If I was un-civil then that is some excuse, but I have other reasons, you know I have."

"What reasons?" He asked, clearly confused.

Elizabeth hid her disgust no longer. She glared at him. "Do you think that anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?"

He stared at her in utter shock.

"Do you deny it Mr Darcy?" She asked, trying to keep her voice steady and not break with anger. "That you've separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to the censure of the world for caprice, and my sister to its derision for disappointed hopes, and involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?"

"I do not deny it." He admitted, giving a slight shake of his head, unable to fully meet her gaze any longer.

Elizabeth was shocked that he admitted it. She wasn't sure if he would. But she knew he was a proud man, he wouldn't be able to hide his true feelings for long.

"How could you do it?" She asked with a quiver, either with sadness or from the cold she was unsure.

"I believed your sister indifferent to him." His answer was honest, she could see that clearly.

"Indifferent?" She asked, confused.

"I watched them most carefully, and realized his attachment was much deeper than hers."

"That's because she's shy!" She exclaimed. Elizabeth couldn't believe that her sister's affections were being questioned. It was plain as day to her that she had true feelings for Mr Bingley, and he to her.

"Bingley too is modest, and was persuaded that she didn't feel strongly for him." Darcy told her.

"Because you suggested it!" She seethed.

"I did it for his own good!" He spat back, no longer hiding his annoyance at being made to be the horrible bad guy. He did what he deemed right to protect his friend's heart. It was clear to him that Mr Bingley had fallen for Jane Bennett and she had not fallen for him the same way.

"My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me!" Elizabeth informed him. He had nothing to say to that. Could he have been wrong? Elizabeth took a deep breath and all he could do was watch as her jaw clenched when she looked away. She bit her lip slightly, making him clench his fist to resist the temptation to reach out and touch her. "I suppose you suspect that his fortune had some bearing on the matter?" She continued, dragging him back to reality.

He brushed that comment off, "No! I wouldn't do your sister the dishonour. Though it was suggested-."

"What was?" She asked, looking up to meet his gaze once more.

Mr Darcy paused for a moment, trying to find the right way to phrase what he was about to say. "It was made perfectly clear that… An advantageous marriage-."

"Did my sister give off that impression." She exclaimed, staring at him in shock.

"No!" No." He told her, trying not to roll his eyes. He really messed this up, sometimes he truly was no good with words. "There was, however, I have to admit… the matter of your family."

"Our want of connection? Mr Bingley didn't vex himself about that!"

He shook his head, "No, it was more than that."

"How sir?" She asked, trying to remain calm and polite was proving almost impossible.

"It was the lack of propriety shown by your mother, your three younger sisters. Even, on occasion, your father." He admitted, wishing he could take it back as soon as he finished the sentence.

Elizabeth stared at him wide eyed, she had never been so insulted in all her life. Thunder rumbled in the distance, emphasizing the awkwardness in the air.

"Forgive me." He asked. Forgive him? It was too late for that. "You and your sister, i must exclude from this."

Elizabeth continued to stare at him, letting the whole exchange between them sink in. She still had questions needing answers to another matter. "And what of Mr Wickham?"

Mr Darcy was thrown by this. Mr Wickham. Evil, selfish Wickham had been to Miss Bennett, clearly telling her all horrid untrue tales. Yes, he could see it now in her eyes as she glared at him as he edged closer to her. The hurt, the anger in her eyes. Wickham had planted a little seed of hate in her mind. "Mr Wickham?"

"What excuse can you give for your behaviour to him?" She asked, tilting her head up to meet his gaze.

"You take an eager interest in that gentlemans concerns!" Was that jealousy she could hear in his voice?

"He told me of his misfortunes."

"Oh yes, his misfortunes have been very great indeed!" He wanted to grab her, shake her and make her see that it was Wickham who was the bad one, not him. But as he looked at her, he could see her mind was already made.

"You have ruined his chance, yet you treat him with sarcasm?"

Mr Darcy lowered his voice, "So this is your opinion of me! Thank you for explaining so fully. Perhaps these offences might have been overlooked, if your pride had not been hurt-."

"My pride!" Elizabeth interrupted.

"- by my honesty in admitting scruples about our relationship. Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?" He continued, ignoring her interruption.

"And those are the words of a gentleman? From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, made me realize that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry." Elizabeth trembled as the words came pouring out, anger coursing through her.

Yet, when she finished and the most saddest expression came over his face, she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. She had never meant to say so much.

He watched her carefully, tilting his head he saw the anger slip from her. Her words had a punch, and he found himself at a loss on what to say, what to do. All he could do while this close to her was notice her scent, lavender, which flooded his mind and soul. And her lips, that parted with the tiniest of gasps at their close proximity to each other. Did she feel it too, the connection between them, the spark that blazed in his very heart? Was he truly alone in these feelings? As he stared at her, her brown eyes wide as she looked up at him, her plump soft lips parted, he was unable to resist any longer.

Bowing his head, he collided his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

His hands found her jaw, tilting her head up to deepen to kiss as they stumbled back into the column behind them. Her lips were as soft as he imagined they would be, warm but slightly wet from the rain. He could taste the sweetness of her as he opened his mouth, allowing his tongue to trace her lower lip. She started to open her mouth to him, a soft moan escaping.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a wild expression. "Forgive me-." he begged, shocked at what they had done. But for the life of him, he could not let her go.

She shook her head, her eyes continuously darting from his eyes to his lips. Slowly, she reached up and touched the back of his neck, pulling him back down to her.

It didn't take any persuasion on Mr Darcy's part, as he could think of nothing else but the possibility of kissing her again.

This time, she kissed him back, and it was glorious. Her hands pulling at his hair, their bodies flushed together as they leaned against the column for support. It was torture, to be this close to her, to feel her and taste her but not be able to call her his.

"We must stop this." Elizabeth said, pulling her lips from him but not able to move away. His body was pressing into her in the most magnificent way, her stomach doing somersaults inside her. She had this burning feeling all through her that she had never felt before, and the only way to satiate it was to have him kiss her again and again…

She gasped for air, trying to stop her head from spinning. "I am a Lady, you are a Gentleman. We can't… We must stop."

He nodded, leaning forward and resting his forehead on hers trying to catch his breath, "You are right Miss Bennett. We must stop."

But stop, they did not. Soon they were kissing again, both completely lost in the desire for one another, both unable to resist the pull they were feeling. Elizabeth was so conflicted, she had such strong feelings of hate towards this man, yet she was sure no other man would ever make her feel this way, could ever make her feel like she was falling while her feet were planted firmly on the ground.

She allowed herself this, this one kiss. Who knows, this was the second marriage proposal she had declined, she highly doubted she would get another. Even if he was insufferable, mean hearted, cruel, there was no denying he was a handsome man. A very handsome man. And yet, he could be hers if she just said yet. But no, she couldn't. She couldn't truly give herself to a man who was so cruel. But surely she was allowed one kiss to remember for the rest of her life?

Her hands roamed him, touching the soft stubble on his cheeks, gripping the strands of hair on his neck as her mouth learned from his. He felt so good, so strong in her arms.

Suddenly he pulled away, a low grunt escaping his lips as he did so. She felt empty without him near. "This is madness Miss Elizabeth. Surely now, after it has become plainly clear that you're not so indifferent to me, you will change your answer to my proposal."

"I will not." She declared, catching her breath and staring at him. "You can't kiss me into accepting you, Mr Darcy." She knew that was a low blow, she had in fact kissed him back after all.

He scoffed, shaking his head as he watched her from the safe distance he was. If he went any closer, he knew he would catch that scent again, see her now swollen lips that had seconda go, owned him so completely, and be done for.

He took another step back again, straightening his jacket. "Forgive me madam, but I must leave you. I can not be this close to you when you are not my betrothed." He said quietly and turned to leave.

Elizabeth watched him go, her heart still racing in her chest. She was glued to the spot. Did that really just happen? Did she really go from declaring her hatred for him, to the next second kissing him? Shaking her head, she sighed and leaned against the column he had her pressed up against not so long ago.

As her mind thought about him again, his lips, his hands, his eyes filled with heat as they looked at her, she felt a blush creep up her chest and face. Letting out a small giggle, she bit her lip to stop herself from laughing outright. Oh, she couldn't wait to tell Charlotte, surely she would understand this yearning now that she is married to Mr Collins. Maybe she can give her advice on how to control it.