“And, ‘I will not waste my time with women who have been slighted by other men.’ Or something like that.” She looked down at her feet, now half wet from pacing too close to the water, and felt a curious numbness.

He rubbed a hand across his still closed eyes. “Elizabeth, I must beg your forgiveness. I should never have said such a thing and certainly not within your hearing in a ballroom. I am sure you realize by now that you tempt me quite well.”

She looked away, surprised by his response. “You are forgiven, sir. Can you find a way to forgive my ignorance and foolishness? My willful misunderstanding, as you once called it?”

He walked to her and took both her hands within his own. “Of course, my love. You are not to blame.”

“But I am!” she interjected, not willing to let herself off so easily and feeling horribly—not exactly guilty, but something near to that. She could not let him continue to think her an innocent victim. “I am to blame! I did not question him. If his information had come from anyone else I would have thought him too forward, but because I wanted to hear ill of you, because I was discarded by you and charmed by him, I listened to him. I was an all-too-willing participant in his plan to slander you across the country.” She dropped her head, beginning to feel exhausted. “Mr. Darcy, I am sorry for what I have said about you in Meryton. It was unfounded and unkind and I apologize. I understand if you do not wish to see me again.”

He had been alternately confused and touched at her speech until the last. “No!”

Her head snapped up at his vehement tone.

“Miss Bennet, Elizabeth, do stop trying to cry off! Do you not understand? I want to marry you. You! I did not choose a woman from among a case at the jewelers. There is not a replacement should this one get lost.” He took her shoulders in his hands again and held her there firmly, his eyes boring into her. “You are mine, do you understand? I have made my decision and I want you. Do stop trying to change my mind.” He spoke fervently, more passionately than she had ever heard him speak.

A smile worked its way across her face, her eyes lightening as she looked upon him, staring at her with such ferocity. Suddenly, she threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in his coat, squeezing him tightly. Stunned, Darcy did not know what to do but return her embrace. He held her to him and dropped his head so it rested on top of hers, his arms pulling her impossibly closer.

They stood like this for some time until Elizabeth pulled back and looked at him shyly. He smiled at her reassuringly and offered his arm, and they made their way back to the cottage.

Chapter 16