Elizabeth Bennet sat on a boulder and looked over the land she knew by heart. To her, it was the most beautiful place on Earth. She had walked every miles, climbed on most of the trees, she learned to swim here, she made friends, she read under the shadow of those very oaks on her right. She loved it, as much as she sometimes wished for more, she still appreciated what she had and was proud of it. However, as much as she wanted to deny it, something had changed in her since April. Since November even. Since him.

Oh, how he infuriated her ! She hated the condescending look in his frost blue eyes, the frown marring his handsome face and the tense way he held himself. If she was honest with herself -something she often found herself unable to be when it came to him, he had caught her eyes like no one else ever had the very second he stepped into the Meryton assembly. Before hearing about his fortune and connections and vast estate, she had been caught by his clear, intelligent eyes so unlike anything she had ever seen. They had reminded her of the morning sky in winter when one couldn't tell if it was going to rain or if they will be bestowed the shiniest sun of the season. Then she had seen his other features, from his jet-black hair, to his strong jaw, passing by his aristocratic nose. That he had been the tallest man in the assembly had only been another pleasurable surprise. Through her humor and teasing, Elizabeth had really been looking forward to an introduction, she had wanted to get to know this man who had managed to attract her eyes so easily. Therefore, when she heard his words, it had cut deeper than any insult her mother had ever thrown her way, worst than the time of her and Jane's introductions when she had to bear all the comments about the large inequalities in the repartition of beauty in their family. If she hadn't loved her sister so dearly, if Jane hadn't been such a pure soul, she may have grown to resent her for all that. Truth was she had gotten used to it and it hadn't even bothered her anymore, but to hear it from the mouth of the one man who had caught her attention had been a hard blow she hadn't been ready for. Thus was born the resentment which would only grow along the months and insults.

Since she had sent the letter, she felt at peace. If somewhere deep down in the recess of her heart, she felt something akin to sadness or regret, she ignored it. This page was turned and now she had to focus on her family, for if this unpleasant experience had been useful in any way, it was for having shown her the error of her ways.

From a young age her father had treated her differently. She was his favorite daughter, but she was also the almost-son he had. Thus she had been taught things, a father only taught his heir, she had loved it then and still loved it now. A few years ago, when she had taken over the running of the estate, though technically and not officially, not one of their tenants, not one person in Hertfordshire had raised an eyebrow, it had been done so smoothly, she had been participating for so long, that the only feeling expressed had been relief. By her father, for he could now spend every day in his library and not be bothered, by the tenants for the little miss was the most efficient, gentle, fair mistress one could dream of. She was good at what she did and enjoyed walking the land to see the progress they had made. Her position in her family allowed her more liberty for she could talk to her father like none of her sisters could. If she happened to be the less liked by her mother, she couldn't do anything but bear it. Over the years, she had half-heartedly tried to push her father to be more invested in their education, to see what was becoming of the youngest, how lost, ill-mannered, vulgar they were being. But his father wouldn't bother with his wife's cries and complains. The truth was she wouldn't either, so she had stopped trying to work with her parents and only intervened when she felt the need to, to prevent embarrassment and humiliation for all of them. She figured it didn't matter, many girls in town acted much the same anyways.

However upon her return from Kent, after learning what Jane had lost to her family's awful behavior, what she had lost -no matter that she hadn't wished for it, it was in the principle, she knew she couldn't keep going the same way anymore. She had a serious talk with her father, exposing the cold hard facts and though her words may have been on point, she knew his actions were more motivated by the expression appearing on his eldest daughter's beautiful face when the dear girl thought no one was looking : the heartbreak and pain was too much for any father, but it was Jane, the most precious soul he knew, his princess who though not as close to him as his second, always brought him tea personally in the afternoon, and came to check on him on the nights when he was too engrossed in the book to sleep and chose to stay in his library. It was unbearable to see pain on her face. So from then on, he had agreed with everything Lizzie had to propose, no matter how stressful and how much shrieking it would ignite.

Lizzie was happy for the way things had turned and as she stepped back into her house, even the cold disdain of her mother couldn't lower her spirit.

« A letter for you, Miss, » said the maid handing her the object.

Elizabeth thanked her with a smile and went up to her room to open it. She was the one exchanging with everyone involved in the business of taking care of their estate, she also had a few investments going on and the servants knew they had to keep everything from her mother who still believed her second daughter only able to walk around aimlessly everyday.

Sitting at her writing desk she looked down at the piece of paper and froze. It was from the last man on earth she expected to receive a letter from.

Miss Elizabeth,

You could not have been more wrong on many of your assumption but the last thing I want is to cause you any harm, so I'll endeavor to be as amiable as possible hoping you will honor me by reading this letter. Receiving your own was the greatest pleasure for me, and I at least dare to hope this one won't cause any annoyance upon reception. I cannot say I regret everything I've done, for your refusal, no matter how harsh, helped me grow in a way that would never have been possible had you been any kinder I believe, but I still wish to beg for your forgiveness. Just thinking about my behavior toward you and your family brings me great shame. When we parted, I felt little other than anger and my only preoccupation was my bruised ego for never have I been set down before. However those feelings quickly left way to other much less pleasant emotions, one of them being shame.

About Mr Wickham, I feel great relief knowing you believe me and I hope you will be successful in avoiding him. Personally, I already took to getting him away from Hertfordshire, and it shouldn't be long before he takes his leave if it isn't already done.

My dear sister is just as shy as I, we take it after our mother whom my father liked to tease by saying she had only married him for access of Pemberley, where one could spend days walking around without meeting anyone to talk to apart from servants. Though I spend a respectable amount of time in London for business and mandatory socializing, and even after the years spent at Cambridge with the cheerful, amiable Bingley, I still haven't found any way to get past my shyness. My sister is even worse I fear, maybe because she had lost her maternal figure very early on. Since the Ramsgate incident, her reserve had gotten so much worse, and despite my own nature I will try to follow your advice because it cannot be good for her.

I apologize if those confidences make you uncomfortable, but you have to understand you, and my cousin the colonel, are the only people I can freely speak with about such matter. It is hard being responsible for a young woman, and as much as my aunts try to help, they cannot do much. You know better than anyone how much of a bad exemple I set when it comes to social behavior and I dearly hope whatever I did wrong is still salvable.

I will end this letter by renewing my apologies, insisting on those I owe to your elder sister. If she is half as miserable as Bingley , I am the devil indeed for the part I played in separating them.

If hoping to hear from you again is not too much, I will conclude this letter with only a goodbye.

Fitzwilliam Darcy

Elizabeth sat shocked at her desk. She couldn't make anything of what she had just read. Who was this polite man ? Who was it who showed her respect and amiability ?

Her chest warmed and ached at the same time, for she regretted this man had not been the one she had met. It amused her a lot too, and she welcomed the distraction after a full day of bearing her mother's relentless verbal attacks. Mr Darcy was indeed the only man who had ever offered her something else, something to dream about at first, then something to lash out at later. Now he could be something else entirely. Elizabeth had no doubt his affection was long gone, but if his words were to be believed, her own behavior had influenced his in what she hoped was a good way, and if anything she would like for him to be a friendly acquaintance.

If this status allowed her heart and mind to rest, she will gladly promote him to friend even.