Page 27 of The Engagement at Longbourn

The single word came with such weight that Elizabeth’s teasing faltered.

Darcy continued more quietly. “I meant what I said in the lane.”

Her heartbeat altered. “You remember?”

“Enough.”

“You said a great many things.”

“I remember that I told you I loved you.”

Elizabeth looked away.

“I do not expect you to answer that,” he said. “I only wish you to know it was not invented by fever.”

She tried for lightness. “The fever merely injured your discretion.”

“Yes.”

That answer made her look at him again. Darcy’s gaze did not waver. Elizabeth had spent weeks believing his attention to her was criticism. He had stared at her across rooms with an expression she had interpreted as disapproval. He had asked her to dance after insulting her at the assembly. He had contradicted her, debated her, watched her. Love was not the explanation she would have chosen.

It fit uncomfortably well. “I do not love you,” she said.

“I know.”

“I do not even know whether I like you.”

A small pause. “I had gathered.”

“That was rude.”

“It was honest.”

“You approve of honesty only when it wounds you?”

“No. I approve of it particularly then.”

Elizabeth became still. That was not the man she thought she knew. Or perhaps it was a part she had never looked for. “Then we understand one another,” she said.

“We understand the terms.”

“The rest remains to be discovered.”

Darcy’s mouth softened. “I look forward to it.”

Elizabeth rose. At the door she turned. “Mr. Darcy?”

“Yes?”

“If you ever propose again, I recommend choosing a drawing room.”

He considered. “I had thought perhaps a muddy lane had sentimental value.”

She laughed all the way down the corridor.

CHAPTER TEN

Lady Catherine Comes to Hertfordshire