Page 223 of A Question of Character

“Wickham told me how he came to his senses. Wycombe was at first his friend. They thought it funny, how close their names were. Then, the blackguard—not George, the other fellow—thought it a great joke to have his debts attributed my old friend. George did not find that funny at all. He realized how his actions had wounded me and resolved to be better.”

Elizabeth listened without interruption. She had wondered whether the reconciliation between the two gentlemen rested solely upon the recent adventure or whether deeper causes had brought it about. The explanation satisfied her more than she had expected.

“So it was not one great event,” she said thoughtfully. “Many smaller ones, each persuading him to become the sort of man he wished he had been sooner.”

Darcy considered that before answering with a slight inclination of his head.

“I believe that is true. Reform seldom arrives in a single moment.”

“He has succeeded admirably, you must see that.”

“I do.”

Darcy spoke without reservation.

“There remains much of the charming, imprudent fellow I knew as a boy, but there is honor now where once there was merely good nature. I trust him in a manner I never expected to do again.”

Elizabeth’s heart warmed still further. There was generosity in such an admission, particularly from a gentleman who had every reason to remember past injuries.

“I do, now. If not for you, Elizabeth, I do not think I would ever have been able to admit fault.”

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“You admitted it because you are an honorable man.”

“I admitted it because you required me to examine myself honestly.”

Elizabeth was pleased.

His willingness to speak so candidly of his own failings strengthened her esteem. Pride had once stood between them both. To see him acknowledge that truth without embarrassment filled her with satisfaction.

“It speaks well of you to be willing to overcome your pride and your belief in your superior understanding.”

A rueful smile crossed his face.

“I begin to suspect you will remind me of my ‘superior understanding’ whenever occasion requires.”

Elizabeth smirked. “I shall endeavor to exercise restraint.”

“I do not fully believe you.”

Her laughter answered him before words could.

“I shall never doubt you again, my love.” Darcy kissed her cheek.

The affectionate gesture proved more intimate than the kisses they had already shared. It carried with it an ease that belonged not merely to courtship but to the companionship they would soon enjoy as husband and wife.

“Oh, that will not do. I will most certainly be incorrect at some point. You must not allow my own pride to swell beyond recognition.”

“I shall attempt to distinguish between confidence and certainty,” he replied. “One appears rather more dangerous than the other.”

“And if I become insufferably certain?”

“I shall remind you of this conversation.”

She smiled.

“Then I must hope my memory fails me.”