Page 185 of A Question of Character

The words struck with terrible force because they contained no malice.

Only grief.

“I fear...”

She faltered.

“I fear that if another misunderstanding arose between us years hence, you would judge me with equal firmness before hearing my explanation.”

Darcy recoiled physically.

“Never.”

“You cannot know that.”

“I do.”

“You believe you do.”

Her voice broke.

“But so did you believe Mr. Wickham guilty before allowing him to speak.”

Darcy found no answer.

She searched his face.

“I love you.”

The confession hurt far more than rejection alone could have done.

“I believe you honorable.”

“I am trying to be.”

“I know.”

Another tear escaped.

“But honor without humility can become frightening.”

He bowed his head.

Every accusation pierced because every one contained truth.

“I cannot marry you today.”

She withdrew her hands.

“If someday you can truly set aside your pride long enough to seek understanding...”

She could not finish.

Instead, she whispered, “I should like nothing better than to become your wife.”

Darcy stood motionless.

The wind stirred fallen leaves around their feet.