"Miss Elizabeth!"
She turned, surprised, at the clearly frantic voice during the dullest part of the ball - a part she had been hoping to escape.
"Mr. Darcy?" Her genuine surprise nearly had her forgetting any disdain she'd previously felt for the man. Mr. Wickham's lies had been obvious, but Mr. Darcy's insult to her vanity was still far from forgiven.
"Miss Elizabeth," he repeated when nearing her at last. The sparse population of the balcony at least ensured safety from both scandal and gossip. "I - I hear I am to congratulate you."
Once again, he had chosen the least seemly thing to say out of all possibilities in the universe - and she promptly huffed and turned away.
"Miss Elizabeth," he pressed.
"I have no need of your mocking, sir." Her curious smile had disappeared completely.
"I intend no mocking."
"Oh, there must be no reason for me to doubt your humility."
"Madame?"
"Again, I need not your pretenses, sir."
"I hold no pretense!"
"How dare you lie so bold-faced, sir!"
"Lie? Why would I ever - "
"Is it not enough that I must suffer Mr. Collins' ridicule?" She spun around then, heart actually aching. She blinked for a moment before sighing. "I had thought you better, sir."
The silence greeting her compelled her to look up, if only for a moment.
"He dares ridicule you?" The serious look on Mr. Darcy's face almost frightened her. "I shall have Aunt Catherine dismiss him the first hour tomorrow morning."
"Oh." What else was Elizabeth to say, after all?
She ventured to speak again only after Mr. Darcy stopped panting. "It would be rather unkind of me to rob him of his living, sir."
He turned to look at her, eyes clearly searching. She put great effort into not looking away.
"Despite what Mr. Wickham may say, I would like to believe my assessment of your arrogance need not associate you with dishonesty as well."
He started slightly after her declaration, and she wondered if she had said too much.
He did not speak until his wandering feet nearly led him indoors once more. Framed by the door's ornate arches, he stopped, turned around, and said softly, "I thank you for your perception, madame."
"It is no trouble."
"I came to congratulate you on your engagement. I see now that I ought to be encouraging another, luckier man. I hope you have a wonderful evening."
Then all quite suddenly, the enigmatic man was gone.
His mysterious words did not quite truly settle in until a moment later. Her reactions - once they did - were quite immediate.
"Mr. Darcy!" She followed after him quickly, sparing only a moment in the confounded ballroom before tracing his form towards the library. "Mr. Darcy!"
He did not hear her either time, and she found herself quite compelled to chase him all the way into the library - only then dropping the hems she had raised to nearly unladylike heights. He stood by the fire, frowning. She could nearly slap herself and him and Mr. Collins all at once.
"Mr. Darcy," she repeated, voice amplified at last by their solitude.
He started as if genuinely surprised - and looked her way with pained, soulful eyes. The worry on his face was too keen for explanation.
"Miss Elizabeth," he spoke lowly yet thinly, little strength in his voice, "I wonder if I may presume that you arrive here to see me."
She rolled her eyes immediately, utterly unable to resist. "Sir, you tease."
"I do not, I'm afraid." He frowned again. "While I am entirely thankful for your discernment regarding George Wickham's character, I cannot deny that the arrogance you have attributed to me is true."
She had questioned her own sanity - running along after him the way she did simply to clear up a misunderstanding. Right now, she questioned his.
"I fail to understand, sir."
"Despite clearly feeling the deepest of love, I have allowed my actions only to insult and belittle you. Miss Bingley's jealousy speaks of my affection - her insults of my pained uncertainty."
"Mr. Darcy, I - "
"Forgive me, Elizabeth." He looked straight at her, then drew closer. She froze where she stood, mere steps from the door. "Forgive me for allowing my arrogance, selfishness, and pride to picture myself to be far more deserving of your affections than I have ever been. Forgive me for the indignation in my heart at the news of your accepting another - for surely, you command the hearts of many men more deserving than I."
"Mr. Darcy! I cannot have you believe - "
"I do not know who your betrothed is, Elizabeth." He stopped before her, toes inches from hers. His eyes entranced her beyond what is acceptable. "I feebly rejoice at the fact that he is not my aunt's fool of a parson. I wish you every happiness from the depths of my being - though my soul suffers knowing that that happiness would not be found with me. The man who has won your hand has won entrance to heaven itself. I cannot fault another for acting before I do."
"Mr. Darcy!" Her protest was keen, but limp. Her hands and feet refused to obey her at all. "Sir, you must let me explain."
He withdrew, eyes lowering. "I would rather not hear your reasons for accepting another man. Clear as I may be regarding my own faults, I know not if I can bear to hear your praises for another man who is clearly better than I."
"Mr. Darcy!"
"Miss Elizabeth - forgive the liberties I have taken. Please pardon them as you would a dying man's last wishes. I dare not - "
"Mr. Darcy!" Amusement, relief, confusion, warmth, joy, and a hint of exasperation coursed through her veins. He slowly met her eyes again. She smiled. "Sir, you are rambling."
He seemed not to hear her until another moment passed. His eyes blinked then of recognition.
"Miss Elizabeth," he rushed to say, "perhaps even in my apologies, I stumble. It is no wonder that you have accepted another. Who am I to think that one as wonderful as you would seek to unify yourself with a man like me? It is foolishness of the - "
"I have accepted no one!" She cried, nearly stomping her foot. The wonder she felt in her heart quickly chased away any predecessors of embarrassment or fear. She smiled again. "Do you not see, sir, that you are rambling about something entirely untrue?"
"Untrue?"
The sharp and witty man she had come to observe, it seemed, did not exist tonight.
"Mr. Darcy - I am not engaged to any man, and I apologize for any presumptions my foolish cousin may have discussed publicly tonight. I had attempted so sorely to reject him, but he simply refused to accept that I was rejecting him." She pressed her hands together, slightly uneasy. "I - I apologize for the misunderstanding, sir, for I, by allowing it to exist, bear the brunt of the blame for its propagation."
He did not speak, only blinked.
She watched him, hesitant and fascinated, before noticing the suddenly minute distance between them. He was leaning closer, lower. She, without thought, was doing the same.
"Mr. Darcy?" She heard herself whisper when only an inch separated their faces.
He stopped his movement, though hovered still.
"Elizabeth?"
"I apologize most dearly for the misunderstanding. Presumptions are a horrible lot."
He moved his head slightly as if in a nod.
She inhaled deeply before continuing, "But, just this once, may I presume what we are about to do?"
A/N: I'm sorry for the delay in updates! I hope uploading chapters to two stories will make up for things. Thank you for waiting. I hope you liked this chapter and all its awkward glory :)