Turning off her machine at the sound of the horn, Elizabeth took a quick glance over her filled-out operator's log before laying down her pen and heading off the floor towards the break room. The sound of rushing footsteps behind her alerted her to Charlotte's approach just in time to brace for the overly-exuberant way in which her friend threw an arm around her neck.
"I'm done, I'm done, I'm done forever!" Charlotte chanted, skipping a little.
"Char!" Elizabeth protested, laughing at the other woman's antics. "You could at least pretend you're going to miss me."
"No, I can't," Charlotte protested airily, releasing Elizabeth to pull open the door that led into the main hallway. "Because you're going to come and visit me on occasion at my new desk and we'll definitely stay in touch outside of this place."
It was Charlotte's last day as a sweeper on their shift. Beginning the next week, she would be taking the secretarial position that had been created on the day shift, a prospect that had made her almost annoyingly cheerful.
"I still don't understand why you didn't even go for the job," Charlotte commented, despite their having had this particular conversation two or three times already. "I mean, you say what you like about the timing of things, but it's still better hours, better pay and better work."
Elizabeth shook her head. "You know I can't trust anything that relates to him." They had stopped using Mr. Darcy's name in conversation since he had become the new owner of Blue Line. Not wanting to gossip openly about a man with that much direct power over their employment, Darcy had simply become "him," always spoken with heavy emphasis.
"Besides, I'm not sure I'd want to go sit at a desk any more. I like operating."
She loved it, actually. Elizabeth would cheerfully never sweep again, but operating was different. There was something almost heady about standing at the head of that machine, keeping it fed and tracking her progress. It wasn't as monotonous or stressful as sweeping had been. It was up to her to make certain she was pulling the correct mail and tracking it accurately. It was up to her to keep everything moving at a pace her sweepers could handle but still try to sort the highest possible average of mail every hour. She relished all the different challenges about the job and couldn't begin to fathom wanting to sit at a desk and take dictation.
"But you don't get to operate all the time," Charlotte pointed out.
"True," Elizabeth allowed. "But I think with you being out of the running for a spot, there's a chance I'll get promoted to a level two operator within a month or so. And Collins said that he was planning on sending me back to scanning for cross-training. I would love to run that area!"
"But-" Charlotte began another protest.
"But, nothing. I'm happy, Charlotte. I'm happy for you! You shouldn't feel guilty about going for or getting something I was always going to pass on. I just hope you'll like it as much as you think you will."
Privately, Elizabeth thought her friend was taking something of a risky move in applying for the secretarial position, let alone accepting it. She had gone so far as to try to talk Charlotte out of it, not because she wanted it for herself but because it did come from Darcy and it seemed like such an unnecessary position within the current framework of the company. Elizabeth still maintained it was an attempt at controlling her. Charlotte more optimistically believed it was offered to Elizabeth out of guilt.
Either way, it seemed like an untenable situation to Elizabeth but she had finally bowed to Charlotte's demands that she be supportive. It was, after all, the least she could do for her friend.
In any event, it was Charlotte's last night on the shift and that just happened to coincide with the holiday party that was being held. Despite initial reports of it being only a catered meal and a longer lunch for those on the swing shift, it had actually been extended to include some remarks from management and a full four hours of festivities. There was food, but no spirits, as it wouldn't have been fair to expect the overnight shift to abstain in order to run their machines safely. The food, however, came from one of the city's very best caterers rather than being the sort of overcooked mystery meat in greasy sauces that was the standard fare for such corporate events.
They reached the lunch room to find it already quite crowded with people from other shifts. Thanks to the half hour overlap of shifts that happened each day as well as from the occasional stint of overtime, Elizabeth had at least a passing familiarity with many of them. She and Charlotte fell into line for the buffet-style meal and quickly struck up an easy conversation with the man ahead of them who was an outrageous flirt from the day shift. That Mark was well into his upper 60's and lacked a great deal in the way of teeth never impaired his smooth remarks and he was a general favorite with everyone.
Once their plates were full, they parted company with David. Charlotte and Elizabeth's regular table was taken by a small crowd from the overnight shift but they were able to secure an empty table on the outskirts of the room. It was near to the windows and a glance outside showed snow coming down in a delirious flurry, seeming almost to riot in the beams of light cast by the aldetric lamps that were spaced evenly around the front of the building.
"I still can't believe George didn't come to work today," Charlotte exclaimed, even as she started to dig into the bounty of food on her plate. "He's going to be upset when he hears what he missed out on."
"Did you hear why he's not here?" Elizabeth asked. "I hope he's not ill."
The three of them had grown closer in recent days, the women admitting George to their small circle and to more of their confidences. He was charming and funny and sympathetic to Elizabeth's past with Darcy. He was also something of a flirt, but not in a way that seemed insincere. Even Elizabeth had to admit that he seemed to show a decided preference towards her and the attention was both welcome and flattering. Watching Jane moon about over Bingley had only served to reinforce her own desires for such a thing. While not certain that George Wickham was exactly the sort of man she might one day fall in love with and marry, he certainly seemed like a decent enough prospect.
Charlotte shrugged in answer to Elizabeth's concern. "Collins didn't say anything to me. But I can't imagine what else might keep him away on a night with free food and getting paid to eat it."
"Especially when it turned out to be this good," Elizabeth agreed.
In the next moment, it seemed as though she was given a real answer for George's absence on this evening. The food before her, previously so appetizing, suddenly held very little real allure.
What is he doing here?
"Who?" Charlotte glanced around, trying to spot the person that had sparked the question Elizabeth had apparently asked out loud. "Oh, who is that? He's gorgeous!"
She had easily identified the source of Elizabeth's sudden mood shift and was ogling him quite openly.
"Char!" Elizabeth hissed, feeling that her friend's question was spoken too loudly and that her remark was entirely too inappropriate. "Don't look! It's him!"
Charlotte whipped her head around to face Elizabeth, dark eyes wide with surprise and eyebrows arched in disbelief. "That's Darcy?" she asked, much more quietly now. "He doesn't look much like his pictures in the paper, does he? You never said he was so good looking!"
Against her will, Elizabeth glanced briefly at the tall man who had just entered the room, apparently deep in conversation with another man she recognized as being in upper management for Blue Line. Darcy was dressed formally in a tuxedo, entirely inappropriate in a room full of low wage workers. His hair had grown out since she had last seen him, the dark locks falling in a perfect wave over his collar. She felt the sudden insane urge to run her fingers through it.
Almost as though he had heard the salacious thought, he looked across the room and met her gaze. Unnerved by the intensity in those dark eyes, Elizabeth immediately looked down at her plate, feeling a faint burn in her cheeks at having been caught looking at him. It seemed that he had known exactly where she would be and had visually sought her out. She found herself hoping that he wouldn't seek her out physically.
She was suddenly reminded of their very first meeting, for this encounter carried echoes of that one. That first time, she had been at work and already seated when he had entered. She had been conversing with another woman each time.
Beyond those superficial details, God save her, each time there had been something, some sixth sense that was apparently attuned specifically to his presence. She had known without looking that it was him. Had felt a thrill, inexplicable and unwelcome, course through her. There was a hint of excitement, though she couldn't say why. At their first meeting it had been easily explained, but she hadn't known him then. She had only known of him. Now they had a history, small and strained as it was, and she knew she did not like him. There was no reason at all to feel that illicit thrill and every reason in the world to hope he would keep his distance.
The next four hours suddenly loomed in her mind, stretching out like an eternity. How could she be in the same room as him for so long and have any reasonable hope that he would not speak to her?
Picking at her meal, Elizabeth tried without any particular success to appear as though all was normal. Charlotte attempted to make conversation about anything other than the proverbial elephant in the room, but both of them tracked Darcy with their eyes and all attempts at speaking on another topic faltered almost instantly.
"I would rather be back running a machine," Elizabeth muttered, picking despondently at a stalk of oven-roasted asparagus. "Without sweepers if I had to."
The wish was futile and was answered almost immediately by the stir caused when one of the men from management stood and starting calling for everyone's attention. As the room grew silent, the man stepped over to a podium that had been set up in the corner and launched into a speech.
"Hello, everyone! Some of you may not know me, but I'm David Love and I'm the Senior Manager in charge of operations here at Blue Line. It is my very great pleasure to welcome you all to tonight's festivities and to introduce you all to a few special guests we have with us tonight.
"But first, I want to express my gratitude to you. All of you make our mission here a success and this dinner is just a small way that we want to say thank you for all the effort and diligence you have put in during the rest of the year."
David continued on in a similar vein for some time, not really saying anything of substance but never seeming to run out of words.
"Do you think Collins took lessons from him?" Elizabeth eventually asked Charlotte in a low voice. "Or was it the other way around?"
"Collins can only aspire to such magnificent heights of leadership greatness," Charlotte replied.
Stifling their grins, they listened to several more minutes of David Love's speech before he at last came to an unwilling close and announced that it was his very great pleasure to introduce everyone to Mister William Darcy, who had prepared some remarks of his own.
Darcy looked severe as he took over the podium, though he thanked David graciously and favored the audience with a polite smile as he also extended his thanks for their time and attention.
In some ways, having him be the center of attention was a relief. Elizabeth was now not only free to look at him, it was practically required. As out of place and pompous as the tuxedo was, she was having a difficult time dragging her eyes away from him as he wore it. The stark lines and bold contrast in colors only accentuated his tall frame and broad shoulders. That he appeared to be perfectly at ease in front of this crowd of strangers only made him all the more striking. He exuded confidence in a way that Elizabeth had only ever seen in him one time before, when she had first seen him walk through the doors of his own office.
"I won't take up much of your time," Darcy promised, as soon as he had thanked them for their attendance and hard work. "As I am certain several of you have heard by now, my corporation has recently acquired Blue Line."
He seemed to look directly at Elizabeth as he delivered that line, but like any good speaker would, he soon directed his gaze to another portion of the room.
"I suspect that this may have been a cause of concern for some of you, and so I wish to put your minds at ease. Blue Line has not been in any recent fiscal danger and I have every hope of increasing both productivity and profit margin in the coming years. I believe I have identified a few key areas for growth and improvement, but I do not foresee that any of these plans will have a negative impact on you. In fact, I hope that any direct impacts will be positive.
"As an example, I was able to tour the facility some time ago and have enlisted the aid of an efficiency consultant. So far, I have approved his recommendation for automating the disposal of full trays from the machine area. You should no longer have to stack full trays on the tops of the shelving units. Instead, we will have rollers installed beneath them and these will feed directly to the end of the machines where the mail cages are waiting for them.
"That is only one example, but I have every hope it will make your work environment more comfortable and more efficient.
"As it is your work environment, I will also be wanting to solicit feedback from you. You know it best and will have the best ideas on places where we can see improvement. Your shift managers will have more details on how to submit that feedback if and when you have it."
He paused briefly and scanned the room again. "Now, I said I wouldn't take much of your time and I intend to keep that promise. So let me just close by saying that I am looking forward to working with Blue Line and I hope this transition will be a smooth one.
"Please feel free to continue to enjoy the food and refreshments. I believe that's it for announcements tonight, so you should all feel free to relax for the rest of the evening. If you're working this shift, you need not feel compelled to stay and socialize, although we certainly hope that you will." He smiled engagingly, making the invitation to stay seem almost personal.
"If you do choose to go, you will still be paid for all your hours. And next time we have an event, we'll be sure to schedule it during the hours of some other shift. I assume you all want to set the next party for two AM?"
A laugh rippled through the room and Darcy's grin grew, as though he were really pleased at having made them laugh. "And that's it. Please, go ahead and enjoy!"
He stepped away from the podium and the room instantly erupted into the sounds of several dozen conversations.
"Funny," Charlotte murmured. "He doesn't seem like a monster."
"Appearances can be so deceiving," Elizabeth tossed back hotly. It was as much as observation to her friend as it was a reminder to herself.
"Well, if they're really going to let us go home with pay, I think I'll take advantage of it," Charlotte declared as she looked out the window with a frown. The snow was several inches deep and piling up quickly. "It's a bad night to be out."
Shivering at the thought of walking to the coach stop and having to wait around in the snow, Elizabeth couldn't help but agree. "And you don't even have as far to walk to get home as I do to get to the coach. Leaving is an excellent idea. I think I'll just grab my things and go."
"Not fast enough," Charlotte said cryptically, looking pointedly towards the front of the room.
Glancing in the same direction, Elizabeth felt her heart sink as she observed Mr. Darcy making his way towards her. He caught her looking - again! - and smiled in acknowledgement. Knowing that it would now be altogether far too rude for her to make a hasty dash for the exit, Elizabeth nevertheless stood and began tidying up from her dinner, laying the utensils across her still rather full plate and folding her napkin up to cover that.
"Miss Bennet," Darcy's voice reached her ear just a moment before he reached her side. "What a pleasure to see you again."
Had she not just witnessed the sincerity he could put into a speech to strangers, she might have thought that the words were meant as honestly as they seemed.
"Mr. Darcy," she acknowledged, looking up at him as she might have any other acquaintance. "I must admit I am surprised to see you here."
He appeared self-conscious at this remark and side-stepped the topic neatly by inclining his head towards Charlotte, who had also gained her feet and was auditing the conversation with open fascination. "May I ask who your friend is?"
"Oh!" Elizabeth was flustered. "Charlotte Lucas, this is Mr. Darcy. Mr. Darcy, my friend, Charlotte."
The look of interest on Darcy's face sharpened. "Ah. Miss Lucas. You are to take on the new secretarial position, are you not?"
"I am," the other woman acknowledged, smiling broadly. "And I am very much looking forward to it, Sir."
"Excellent. I am certain they will be fortunate to have you. It appears as though you have a good background for it."
"What?" Darcy continued, catching and correctly interpreting Elizabeth's unguarded look of astonishment. "I have erred before when it comes to the staffing of such a critical role. I do hope I learn from my mistakes, Miss Bennet, and improve myself wherever I might."
"That is... very noble of you," Elizabeth managed. "Sir," she added on hastily.
Charlotte's eyebrows were now practically meeting her hairline as she looked between her friend and employer. Deciding that whether Elizabeth should desire such a thing or not was irrelevant, she gave them some privacy for whatever the remainder of their conversation might be by murmuring something about needing to say her farewells to several people and slipping away in the face of Elizabeth's half-formed protest and look of desperation.
For a long moment, it seemed that neither Darcy nor Elizabeth could think of a single thing to say and the silence between them was instantly awkward.
"Well, I suppose I should -"
Elizabeth's words tumbled out over Darcy's beginning of, "If I may be so bold-" and they each stopped, laughed in embarrassment and gestured for the other to proceed.
"Ladies first," Darcy insisted, when it seemed they might be forever stuck in their silent holding pattern.
Elizabeth took a deep breath, regretting it almost instantly as she inhaled what could only be Mr. Darcy's scent. It was foreign but appealing, reminding her instantly of the heady combination of aromas that was to be found in the wild and untamed beauty of a mountainside.
"I was only going to say that I should follow Charlotte's lead and collect my things to go." She nodded towards the window to indicate the worsening weather conditions. "I fear the snow will present too much of a hazard if I do not make haste."
To her very great surprise, Darcy smiled. "Then it would appear we are of the same mind. I was merely about to offer you a ride home as I know you must otherwise rely on the public coach."
"Thank you," Elizabeth replied automatically. "But I really could not accept. Besides, I am anxious to leave and I would suspect that you must stay and socialize here."
"In fact, I am about to leave myself. I hope you will not think it bad form on my part, but I had only ever intended to make this visit a brief one. My sister and I are destined for the ballet this evening, but if we were to leave now, I would have ample time to see you home if you will allow it. I must insist on at least seeing you to the coach stop if you will not permit me to take you home."
"Oh." She did not immediately know how to respond to him. He was so sincere and seemed so determined that he should be permitted to be of assistance. Another glance out the window decided her. The snow was more than ankle deep by now and falling more heavily still. To compound things and make it even less desirable to walk in, the wind would occasionally gust so strongly that the falling frozen particles would be blown nearly horizontal. There would be no hope of staying warm or dry in such a mess.
"I hope you will not think it bad form on my part," she echoed his words back at him, "but I will accept your offer. I am just mercenary enough to desire a comfortable ride tonight."
He smiled as though she had offered him some great boon. "Very well. You mentioned that you have things to collect?" At her nod of acknowledgment he all but sprang into action. "I will just gather my coat and have Fitch pull the automobile up to the door. We shall meet you there, if that will suit?"
Agreeing that it would, Elizabeth walked in a bemused daze to the employee locker room and exchanged her work smock for her winter coat and accoutrements. Bundling up as she walked towards the door, she resolved to ask only for a ride to the coach stop. It was scarcely a mile away and having only two or three minutes in Darcy's company would not give them much opportunity to make conversation.
She was not certain that she liked this new side of himself that he seemed to be showing to her. Fired me without cause, makes an abominably rude dinner date, is interested in the likes of Caroline Bingley, fired George and probably broke up Jane and Mr. Bingley. The list was a mantra in her head, but for some reason it did not seem to be the great bulwark it usually was. She felt defenseless against him and could not begin to understand why she should. It was true that they had never gotten along very well, but he had never threatened her in any way.
So what was she fighting against, really? Feeling warmly towards him when he had been nothing but overbearing and arrogant before? But that was not entirely true. Even that last night when he had given her a ride home from work, when his actions had made no sense and he had seemed to want to control her, he had been capable of respecting her boundaries. He had ridden in the front of his own automobile, leaving her to her privacy in the back.
Suddenly, she wanted very much for his driver to take her all the way home. She had not had any time to question him about his actions that night - or to yell at him, as he had offered - and she still felt the most burning curiosity regarding his potential involvement with the events that had transpired between her sister and Mr. Bingley.
Only moments ago he had acknowledged that he was capable not only of making errors but also of identifying them and attempting to modify his own behavior to correct them! It was not an apology or an explanation for why he had fired her, but it was a step in the right direction.
Having been so lost in her thoughts, Elizabeth gained the front door of the building without having paid any attention to the people around her. Well, if Charlotte had been one of the several figures she had passed by, her friend would surely have accosted her. Shrugging it off and promising herself that she would arrive early enough to visit Charlotte in her new position at the beginning of the next workweek, Elizabeth hurried through the revolving door and out into the biting cold.
Darcy's automobile was there and he was waiting by the rear door himself, wrapped snugly in a long wool coat that was, if anything, more flattering than the tuxedo beneath it. He opened the door as she approached and handed her in; she could feel the warmth of his hands even through the layers of their gloves. Settling herself as he slid in after her, she felt all at once uncertain and almost shy of him.
She had not been used to thinking of him in favorable terms nor yet of thinking of him solely as a man. Thinking of him as an attractive man and as one who was beginning to make himself over in her opinion, though he might not know it, made her all too aware of the confined space of the automobile and the way his presence in it loomed so large and masculine.
"I hope you do not mind, but as we did not settle where I was to take you and as the roads are likely to be so bad, I have asked Fitch to simply take you home."
"I do not mind," Elizabeth answered, surprised and troubled that it was entirely true. "It is really very kind of you to go out of your way like this."
"It is nothing," he assured her. "I am happy only to be of some small service."
Looking up at last from where she had been fiddling with her gloves, Elizabeth could just make out the barest impression of his features in the dim light. "How often we have found ourselves in this position," she observed, not really thinking about what she was saying but feeling desperate to fill the silence.
"And which position is that, Miss Bennet?"
"Elizabeth," she offered impulsively, remembering how well she had liked the sound of her name on his lips before. "Or Lizzie, if you prefer. That is what my friends call me."
"Are we friends?" Darcy's voice sounded surprised, but with a note of something else mixed in. In the darkness, she could not tell what clues his face might have betrayed to her.
"I do not think we are," Elizabeth offered honestly. "But perhaps we could be."
"That is, I think, the same offer Miss Marchrend made to Bingley," he observed.
She caught her breath, surprised for perhaps the dozenth time that evening. Was this a deliberate tactic on his part to bring up topics that she was unsure they could speak of? Was he, perhaps, attempting to tell her that he wished to speak openly with her on any subject that she might choose? Her heart beat wildly against her breast and the vulnerable sensation she had been feeling ever since he had walked into the lunchroom only increased.
What was he doing to her? Did she like it? Could she see past all their past interactions to discover where this one might lead?
"Yes," Elizabeth made a valiant effort to pull herself together and to behave towards him as she always did. "I believe she was generous to offer even that much, but then Jane has always been more forgiving than I have. It is one of her best virtues."
Mr. Darcy seemed to pause before replying and she wondered if he could hear the words she was not saying.
Do not think I will be as eager to forgive you for your sins against me as Jane has been willing to forgive Bingley's trespasses against her.
Feeling reckless and needing to have Darcy restored to his proper place in her estimation, Elizabeth took advantage of his silence and pressed on. She would abandon civility if it took doing so to put more distance between himself and her.
"But then, it was not all Mr. Bingley's fault for hurting her as he did, was it? I believe you had a hand in influencing that particular course of events."
"I do not know what you have heard, Miss Bennet, but any involvement I might have had was purely accidental." He spoke slowly, formally, and she did not miss that he had decided not to call her by her Christian name. It seemed that she had gained the space from him that she required.
Almost, she felt she could breathe more easily. Almost, but for a strange pang that suddenly gripped her chest and for a sudden knotting of her stomach.
This isn't me, she thought almost wildly. I am not so cruel!
But when she opened her mouth again, the words that spilled out were not the mild words of reconciliation she had planned.
"Do not think that because you have at last acknowledged the injury that you have done to me - acknowledged, but made no apology for, I might add! - that I can overlook the injury you have caused to my sister or my friend! You may protest that your involvement in the matter of Jane and Mr. Bingley was accidental, but I do not accept that you can refuse to be accountable for whatever it was you said!"
"I see that you are finally taking me up on my offer to have you yell at me," Mr. Darcy replied, and though the words were light his tone was strained. "Will you allow me to make an answer to these accusations or shall I merely hear you out?"
"You may try to answer," Elizabeth allowed, keeping her voice cool. "But I remind you that I am no Jane."
She could see him nod once in response but then he was silent, as though searching for the correct words. Waiting for him to speak was the most intense sort of agony, but Elizabeth remained as still and as quiet as she might. Just when she thought she might shatter from the anticipation, he at last began.
"You are correct to chastise me for not having made any sort of apology or explanation for the manner in which I handled your employment when we first met. I hope you will try to understand that although I do have an explanation for my actions, it is not one that I can readily give. There is... there is something about myself that I have never told to another person. Not to my parents, when they lived, nor to my friends or sister. It is my hope that I will one day be able to tell you what it is, but I fear you would not believe me just at present.
"While I cannot offer you a suitable explanation, I can apologize to you, wholly and without reservation. You say that you are not like your sister, but I am aware now that you have shown me greater forbearance than I would be able to muster were our situations reversed.
"I am very sorry, Miss Bennet, for the insult it must have seemed I was offering and for the lack of care I took in carrying out the actions I felt were necessary. You must be aware by now that I would do anything in my power to make amends."
As he spoke, Elizabeth could not help but feel a rather intense curiosity about Darcy's secret. She wondered what it must be that he had never told another living soul about it or, from the sound of it, so much as hinted of it to anyone. She felt flattered that he would admit her so far into his confidence, and then wondered if that was really what he had done or if he had fabricated the whole thing in an effort to keep from having to offer whatever the real explanation might be.
But she had softened too much this night, it seemed, for she wanted desperately to believe that he was being honest with her.
As if Fate herself had decided to take a hand in Darcy's favor, some outside source of light briefly illuminated his face and then was gone. In that breviloquent moment, Elizabeth saw enough to convince her absolutely that Darcy was being wholly open and candid with her. Not even the best actor in the world could have such a look on his face if he were only playing a part.
His dark eyes had been pleading and the tautness around his eyes and mouth spoke eloquently of his fear that she would reject this apology, contritely as it had been offered. There was truthfulness in all his looks and stamped over all of it there seemed to be a grave sorrow that he had wounded her. He seemed almost as if he felt he had done as much harm to himself as he had to her. It was not self-pity. It was the knowledge of a mar upon his character or soul.
"Very well," Elizabeth found herself saying. "I accept your apology and will endeavor to put that part of our past behind us." She could not yet say she forgave him, for she would forgive him nothing if he could not satisfy her on Jane's account.
"Your sister, then," Darcy pursued, almost as though he had plucked the thought out of her mind. "As you may recall, I fell quite ill following our evening out together."
"Yes."
"Bingley came to see me while I was delirious with fever," Darcy explained. "I was not myself and I have no memory of saying the words he ascribed to me. I can assure you that I would not have said them had I been at all in my right mind.
"It was never my intent to separate your sister from my friend. She is good for him, I think; I have witnessed the ways he has changed himself to please her. She has made him a better man in many respects."
Never before had Elizabeth felt herself grow so instantly emotional. A lump formed in her throat and she could not swallow past it. Tears prickled at her eyes and slipped unbidden down her cheeks. Taking a shaky breath, she tried desperately to think of anything to say that might possibly be enough to answer him.
Darcy heard her inhale and immediately sat forward. "Miss Bennet? Are you well?"
"Yes," she answered thickly. "No. Oh, I don't know what I am!" she cried. "I have never been so confused in my life! I thought I hated you and now I do not know how I ever got to be so wrong."
"Miss Bennet!" Darcy's hands fumbled in the semi-dark for hers, found and grasped them. They had each removed their gloves and her cold, trembling hands were swallowed up in his larger, warm ones. "Miss Bennet. Elizabeth, please do not trouble yourself. You had every reason to dislike me. I know I have earned your ire several times over. My intentions may have been good, but my actions were not."
"But," she began a weak protest.
Darcy's grip on her hands tightened abruptly, becoming almost painful in its intensity. "No!" He was suddenly yelling, but even in her confusion she somehow didn't believe it was directed at her. "No! Not now!"
In the next moment, the car began to fishtail, gliding wildly from side to side and tossing them about. Elizabeth screamed as she was nearly thrown from her seat to the floor, cracking her head hard against something in the darkness.
It was all over in mere moments, the violent motions stopping almost as soon as they had begun. Elizabeth had the faintest sense that Mr. Darcy was still talking to her but he seemed very far away. Wondering if he had somehow been ejected from the vehicle and was calling to her from the street, she struggled to sit up. The effort proved too much for her and although she struggled against it, darkness reached up hungry hands to claim her.
A/N: Longest. Chapter. Ever. So I'll try to keep this the shortest note from me ever. My muse has me firmly in her grip, so forgive me if I fail once again to respond to all the lovely reviews. I do intend to try, but not just at this moment.
My beta was able to give this a once over and I gave it a twice over, so hopefully it'll be a solid effort. Who cares? I'm off to work on 20 in Darcy's POV.
Oh, and sorry for the evil cliffhanger. Sort of. But not really!