Page 60 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

Darcy flushed a deep, humiliating crimson. "No. No, nothing. You are perfectly..."Perfect."You are perfectly fine."

"Fine," she repeated. "High praise indeed."

"I meant—" He stopped. He was digging a hole. He needed to pivot. He needed to be honest, or at least as honest as he dared. He took a breath, steeling himself.

"I am to meet Bingley this evening," he blurted out.

Miss Elizabeth went still. The playful light vanished from her eyes, replaced by a sudden wariness. "Mr Bingley?"

"Yes. At my club. We are dining." He looked down at his hands, then back at her, holding her gaze. "He does not know I have seen you. He does not know you are in town."

"I see." Her voice was cool again.

"I..." Darcy lowered his voice, conscious of the others in the room. "Would you like me to convey your regards? To tell him you are here?"

It was an olive branch. It was a penance. It was him offering to undo the very thing he had done, to bring Bingley back to Jane, even if it meant admitting he was wrong.

She searched his face. She saw the struggle in his expression, the genuine offer in his eyes. Then she looked past him, towards the window.

Miss Bennet was laughing. Actually laughing. Robert had said something, and her head was thrown back, her hand on his arm, her face radiant. She did not look like a woman pining for Charles Bingley. She was a woman enjoying the company of a man who made his admiration undeniably clear.

Miss Elizabeth turned back to Darcy. She saw the question hanging between them.Do you want him back? Do you want me to fix it?

But Miss Elizabeth was not sure. He could see the thoughts on her expressive face. Was Bingley worth it? Was a man who could be persuaded to leave so easily worth the heartache? And Robert... Robert was here. Robert was trying.

She took a breath. "Do what you will, Mr Darcy," she said. "I shall not ask it of you. But I shall not forbid it."

It was a dismissal, but it was also a concession. She was leaving it in his hands.

Darcy nodded slowly. "Understood."

He felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment. He had offered. She had not jumped at it.

"There is one more thing," he said, before he could lose his nerve.

"One more thing?" Miss Elizabeth asked, her guard still up.

Darcy fidgeted with his cufflink. "Robert. He has made arrangements. For tomorrow evening. Monday, the twenty-third."

"Another raid on Cheapside?"

"No. An outing. He has a box at the King's Theatre. He intends to invite your sister. And your aunt and uncle, of course."

"The Opera?" she looked surprised. "That is very public."

"Robert does not do private," Darcy murmured. "He wants to be seen. With her."

"I see."

"However," Darcy pressed on, his heart hammering against his ribs. "The box holds more than four. And Robert suggested... that is, I suggested..." He stopped, took a breath, and tried to be the man his mother would be proud of. "Will you do me the honour of allowing me to escort you?"

Miss Elizabeth stared at him. An invitation to a musical performance from Fitzwilliam Darcy. To be seen with him, publicly, in society. It was a declaration. It was madness.

"Mr Darcy," she began, "I do not think—"

"Oh, please say yes!"

The interruption came from Georgiana. She had drifted over from the group, leaving Richard to entertain Mrs Gardiner. She stood beside her brother, looking at Elizabeth with wide, pleading eyes.