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65 pages
Published July 13, 2006
“…in acquainting myself with the contents of your father’s collection, I felt I could trace the genealogy of your remarkable intellect, and the discovery of our many shared ancestors was bittersweet.”
“How astute you are, to recollect my every impertinent remark!” she teased, straightening his cravat with a smart tug. “You will puff my pride excessively, you know, if you continue to quote me with all the authority of Plato. I shall become quite insufferable with my opinions, and then you will regret such encouragement.”

"To the contrary, Mr. Darcy, I hear such unvarying reports of you as to satisfy me entirely. Your own cousin has just related such a tale of intrepidity – wrangling serpents in a house of God, no less! Why, children must sing your exploits in the lanes of Derbyshire.”



“Indeed, I do not dare." He smiled at her then – a flash of humor so fleeting, it barely gave her opportunity to confirm that Mr. Darcy did in fact possess teeth. He attempted to regain his stern composure, but an egg once cracked cannot be mended, and Elizabeth suddenly understood his strange behavior in a different light. A single man in possession of a large fortune, universally the object of reverence from his inferiors, respect from his peers and obsequious fawning from ladies, must be in want of teasing, and desperately so.”
"I shall not envy him his perfect character, however. A man so complete in his own right can have little use for the society of others. For what service are our faults, if not to draw us into one another’s confidence and encourage affection? Mr. Darcy may hug himself, but I will take delight in the comfort of family and friends.”
“If only the Crown would appoint her mother as emissary to France, Elizabeth thought, Napoleon might be persuaded to forfeit his interest in England altogether.”

"I have observed," she continued slowly, "that great depth of feeling is often belied by a placid demeanor. There are some individuals so pure of spirit that their emotions cannot be alloyed with the cheaper element of public display. It is a virtue, not a failing. Perhaps it is to Miss Darcy’s credit, then, that she does not perform to strangers.”


“Miss Bennet,” he began gently. “My feelings may have been ill-expressed, but I assure you they are sincere. My heart is yours –completely and irretrievably. Such force of affection will not be denied; it compels me to offer you a share of my life, my home, and all my worldly possessions. If but one of these inducements would persuade you to accept me, I tell myself I should be satisfied.” He stepped toward her boldly, his voice distilled to a whisper resonant with yearning. “But Elizabeth, dare I ask – is it possible that you do love me?”
“Elizabeth rose on unsteady legs. It was a queer sensation indeed, to walk away from this scene so whole of body, free of any visible injury or scar. She was in every physical way unaltered, and yet utterly torn apart within. It felt as if her soul claimed no acquaintance with her mind, and her conscience was a stranger to her heart.”

