Page 145 of A Question of Character

He hesitated.

“I... shall speak to Caroline.”

Elizabeth waited.

“I shall insist that any discussion cease.”

“That is something.”

“It is all I can honestly promise.”

She wanted more. She wanted him to declare Wickham blameless, to admit he had been mistaken.

Instead, she had a man who refused to promise what he believed false.

The realization was deeply inconvenient.

“So, we are at an impasse.”

His smile held no amusement. “I believe we are.”

She nodded once. “I must return.”

“I shall not keep you.”

She took two steps before he spoke again.

“Elizabeth.”

She stiffened.

“I am sorry this has become so difficult.”

“So am I.”

She held his gaze another heartbeat.

“I still believe there is some piece of this story neither of us possesses.”

He was silent.

“I hope,” she continued, “that when we discover it, we shall both wish we had been kinder.”

A shadow crossed his face.

“So do I.”

She inclined her head and resumed walking.

After several yards she glanced back.

Darcy had not mounted his horse.

He remained exactly where she had left him, one hand resting upon the saddle, watching the empty lane where she had disappeared.

Elizabeth forced herself not to turn again.

By the time Longbourn came into view, the sharpness of her anger had dulled, replaced by something far more troublesome.