"Her rejection so fained and humiliated me that I justified myself to her at every turn." He sighed. "We exchanged words that I will regret to the end of my life. Later, I wrote her a letter explaining my actions in regard to her sister, for which she will never, I believe, forgive me. As for the misunderstanding, I have hopes of being acquitted in that quarter, but none so strong that would support a rapprochement. Her opinion of me and my faults, she made quite clear. No, she does not, nor can she ever, love me, my dear." His voice dropped.

"Dear brother!" Georgiana's pity was sweeter than he had ever suspected pity could be.

"I raged against the crushing of my heart and the advent of a joyless future. I blamed her for deceiving me, fate for toying with me, everyone and everything save myself. As you said, we have been brought up to think well of ourselves, perhaps too well. Since my return from Kent, I have meanly thrashed about in my pain without a thought for those who care for my well-being... In my pride and conceit I have behaved abominably, foolishly. I stand shamed." He swallowed hard. "I am not the man I had thought to become, before the memory of our father. Further, I have given you pain, Georgiana, most selfishly," he concluded, "and I am heartily sorry for it." He released her hand and waited, steeling himself for whatever should come.

"Brother," she gasped, putting fingers to her lips to force back the sob in her voice. "Such pain, Fitzwilliam! I knew your anger, your isolation came from hurt of something, but this! To love so and to receive..." Emotion caught her up again, preventing her from continuing.

"My pain..." He reached into his coat pocket and brought out his handkerchief to daub at her cheeks. "My pain is not sufficient excuse for my actions even if I had not brought its cause upon myself."

"What a sorry pair we make." She looked up at him as he did her his gentle service. "We have, both of us, been given to see ourselves and have responded like children, unwilling to be taught and resentful of our discipline."

"But you are reconciled, I think." He looked at her closely. "Whereas I am only resigned."

Gently, her head came to rest upon his shoulder, and her hand was shyly laid over his heart. "I know," she whispered. "But it is a step away from the angry pain you have been suffering so cruelly and alone. Pray, do not continue so, Fitzwilliam!"

Slipping his arms around her, Darcy held her close and placed a kiss upon her curls. "Shall you be my Portia, pleading my case before the bar?" He laid his cheek upon the place he had kissed.

Georgiana sighed as she burrowed deeper into his shoulder. "Not I alone, dear brother; but yes, ever your Portia."


Pamela Aidan, These Three Remain
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Now playing: Trans-Siberian Orchestra - This Christmas Day