Page 69 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

The music soared, a crescendo of tragic beauty. Elizabeth sat frozen, processing his words.

He had told Bingley. He had given him the chance. And Bingley had failed.

"You meddled." Her voice trembled. "You decided for them."

"I did," he admitted. "It was arrogant. It was proud. I thought I knew best. I thought... I thought I was saving him from an unequal match. I did not realise I was separating a woman of deep feeling from a man who..." He stopped. "I am sorry. Not for the result, actually, for I believe she is better off without him. But for the pain I caused her. And for the pain I caused you."

Elizabeth glanced at Jane. Her sister was whispering to Lord Keathley, her face serene, her eyes bright. She was not looking for Bingley. She was not waiting for him.

"She knew," Elizabeth realised aloud. "She said it to me tonight.'He does not pine for me, why should I pine for him?' She knew he was not constant."

"She is wiser than me and him together," Mr Darcy said.

"And you," Elizabeth turned back to him. "You did this... why? Why tell me? You could have said nothing. You could have left me wondering if you are a villain or not."

"Because I want there to be truth between us." The raw honesty in his voice took her breath away. "I cannot bear your bad opinion, Miss Elizabeth. I earned it, yes. But I wish to un-earn it. I want you to know me. The worst of me, and perhaps the rest."

"You are a strange man, Mr Darcy," she whispered. "You are proud and disagreeable and you meddle in affairs that are not yours."

"I am," he conceded.

"But then you go and give me lemon biscuits. And you bring your sister to meet strangers. And you look at me as if..." She stopped.

"As if?" he prompted.

"As if you find me somewhat more than tolerable."

"A lot more," he said fiercely.

She adjusted her gloved hands, avoiding his eyes. "I should be angry. I should tell you that you had no right."

"You should."

"But looking at Jane, and looking at you, I find I am simply tired of being angry. It is exhausting work, hating you, Mr Darcy."

"Then stop," he pleaded softly. "Let us call a truce. Let us start again. From this moment. No past. Just... tonight."

Elizabeth gazed at him, and saw the vulnerability and the hope in his face.

"A truce," she agreed. "On one condition."

"Anything."

"You must admit that you were wrong. About Jane. About her feelings."

"I admit it. I was spectacularly, catastrophically wrong. She is a woman of rare worth."

"Good." She smiled, a small, genuine thing. "Then we are at peace, Mr Darcy."

He let out a breath he seemed to have been holding for a month. He reached out, his hand hovering near hers in the darkness, not quite touching but close enough to share the warmth.

"Peace," he repeated. "It is a good beginning."

They remained silent until the curtain fell on the first act. A thunderous applause filled the theatre. The servants lit the candles, bathing the box in sudden brilliance.

"Magnificent!" Lord Keathley declared, standing up and stretching. "Though the tenor was a bit screechy in the second aria. Miss Bennet, are you weeping? Excellent. It is not a good performance unless the ladies weep."

"It was very moving," Jane smiled, dabbing her eyes with a lace handkerchief.