Elizabeth was an innocent; the feelings she experienced were quite confusing. Mr. Darcy obviously felt something as well, as his eyes turned to Elizabeth in that same moment, and he said, “Ah, Miss Bennet, I believe your ankle is going to be fine…”

They glanced at each other tentatively. Elizabeth’s glance more so than Mr. Darcy’s, however. Mr. Darcy looked again at Elizabeth, and this time his eyes did not leave her face. Nor did he release her foot, but began to rub it. “While you rest your ankle for a few minutes, Miss Bennet, would you allow me to speak to you of Mr. Wickham, now that we are away from the others?”

“What? Ah,you may speak Mr.Darcy,” she was distracted and breathless by his touch. Elizabeth was shocked, but could not help enjoying it; amazed that he did not seem to realize what he was doing. As he continued to rub her foot, she did not stop him. It felt too good.

Darcy told Elizabeth of his relationship with Mr. Wickham. “Miss Bennet, Mr. Wickham was the son of my late father’s steward…”

Darcy continued to tell her of the history the Darcy family had with old Mr. Wickham. Darcy’s father had trusted his steward, George’s father, and depended on him. His father had been the godfather of the younger Mr. Wickham. He had supported him through Cambridge, intent on providing him a living as the rector at Kympton. After Darcy’s father passed,George Wickham had requested and was given three thousand pounds in exchange for the living, along with the one thousand pounds designated in the will.

Darcy spoke of George Wickham’s habits and of him returning to demand the living when his funds ran low. His discourse culminated with the story of Wickham’s attempted elopement with Georgiana.

As Darcy’s story concluded, Elizabeth found that she could no longer stop her tears. She had always prided herself on her ability to judge char- acter. Realizing how wrong she was disturbed and humbled her. Oh what must he think of me!

With her embarrassment over her mistaking the nature and quality of both men, she responded, “Oh, Mr. Darcy, I believe I never knew myself. I have always prided myself in my ability to judge character. I could not have been more wrong. What must you think of me?”

“Miss Bennet, you must not blame yourself. Mr. Wickham appears all ease and friendliness; but he has fooled a great many people, including my father. Please do not cry. Mr. Wickham is not worth your pain,” Darcy answered.

He stopped rubbing her foot long enough to pull out his handkerchief and hand it to her. She wiped her eyes, then stood and walked to the window and looked out. In her distracted state, she had forgotten her ankle was supposed to be sprained.

Mr. Darcy walked up behind her and put his hand on her shoulder. She turned around as he spoke to her in a surprised tone, “Ah, Miss Bennet your ankle seems to have healed.”

She turned around to look him in the eyes. She was mortified. Her cheeks glowed bright red as she quickly dropped her eyes to the floor. “Mr. Darcy, I am quite embarrassed; I told you a white lie, sir. I just needed to get away, and only pretended to sprain my ankle. I am very sorry, sir. I truly have misjudged your character.” With much more courage than she actually felt at the time, she turned her eyes towards him and said, “Can you ever forgive me for deceiving you?”

Mr. Darcy picked up her hand and looked deeply into her eyes. He had often noticed Elizabeth’s fine eyes, but this was the first time that Elizabeth had ever noticed how expressive his eyes were. They were rich, dark ebony pools, and they captured her. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

As Darcy’s lips touched her hand, a sensation like a lightning bolt flew through her body, and her heart began to race. Darcy did not release her hand; and as he held it tenderly, he said in a voice as soft and warm as an embrace, “Miss Bennet, I am more than willing to forgive you, if you can find it within your heart to forgive my unthinkable and absolutely untrue comment. I believe you overheard a remark I most assuredly did not mean on the first night of our acquaintance. I should have asked for your forgiveness quite some time ago.”

Her cheeks coloured again, and it was obvious to Darcy that she remembered the comment to which he referred. She found that she could not help herself. She locked eyes with him and smiled, “You are forgiven, sir.”

Darcy then smiled a rich, warm smile, so wide that Elizabeth saw dimples in his cheeks she had never imagined existed. They just stood smiling at each other. Before she knew it, he began alternating his glance between her eyes and her mouth.

Neither knew how it happened, but they were drawn together. Elizabeth felt totally under his power; and she gazed at his mouth as well. Like a moth to a flame, she inched towards him as she sensed him moving closer to her, until their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. She watched as he pulled back from her for a few seconds, to glance into her eyes for approval and then began again. This time she felt him deepen the kiss, as she lifted her arms to touch his shoulders. Elizabeth remembered the feeling of his lips, soft and firm, as well as the warm fluttery feeling that overtook her stomach. As she allowed him to pull her closer and deepen the kiss, she felt his arms wrap around her waist.

Just seconds later the door to the library opened.