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of trade, but their business provides economy for so many women, men, and families. Therefore, you must understand why we view such a lifestyle as beneficial.”

“And our uncle is so very successful,” Jane added, “that it adds a sort of sparkle to his character. Sometimes, despite the views that society has upon trade, I wish that our father had been a man of business.”

“You do?” I asked her, surprised at her declaration.

“Yes, I do.”

“I never knew you felt this way.”

“Well, I cannot help but wonder if perhaps he suffered from a lack of occupation of some kind. And, if he were a man of trade, then perhaps our mother would…”

“Be less anxious over our fortunes and our futures.”

Jane gave a wary look at Mr. Darcy. She had just realized that she had said too much, especially to an outsider of our family.

“Do not fret or worry, Jane,” I assured her. “Mr. Darcy is not afraid of us being truthful about our lives. Or did I speak incorrectly?”

“No, that is quite right,” Mr. Darcy reassured us. “I am merely surprised at you both confiding this all to me. Indeed, I find myself very interested in what you both have to say.”

“But I do beg your pardon,” Jane rushed out. “For there are things that one should not say to a gentleman. Indeed, I do not know what has come over me.”

“I do,” I said to her. “Mr. Darcy has done his best to make us comfortable. As such, we are not afraid to be ourselves anymore.”

“I really am enjoying myself,” Mr. Darcy assured her again. “Truly, I feel flattered by this.”

Jane smiled gently and looked away.

A few seconds later, we had reached my uncle’s factory.

Jane, ever the obliging sister, did as I requested. She began to inspect the architecture of it, marveled by the new renovations that had been made to the place, as I offered to lead Mr. Darcy around the side of it, so that he saw the factory from all angles.

Happy with this arrangement, Darcy and I walked along, finally having the moment to ourselves.

When alone, I opened my mouth to speak, but Mr. Darcy began first.

“We are alone now,” he began.

“Yes, we are,” I sighed.

“And I gather that this fortuitous moment did not originate by accident.”

“No. I suppose now, with all laid so much bare between us, that with you, I must now be entirely open. I asked Jane if she would do her best to give us a few minutes alone so that I could say everything that I wished to say to you.”

Mr. Darcy looked ahead and then back at me.

“By your manners and behavior,” he began, “I gather that I have nothing else to worry over. Your treatment of me has been entirely cordial and even gracious; therefore, I look forward to whatever you have to say. In truth, I was hoping we would finally have time to take each other into each other’s confidence.”

“I am glad of it. First, I must thank you for the service that you rendered me yesterday, in protecting me from Mr. Wickham’s pursuits.”

“You are very welcome, but I partly blame myself for that situation.”

“How could you blame yourself? I was the one who once spoke so very warmly of him. I trusted him, believed his lies against you and therefore had been completely taken in.”

“He imposed himself upon you.”

“He would not have been able to do so if I had been wiser about it all from the beginning. Yet, I welcomed his attentions and therefore gave way to blindness. My pride had been affected and it led to me being easily prejudiced in another quarter.”

“Yet, in some ways, the fault is still mine. If I had revealed his true nature before, when I was in Hertfordshire, then none of you would have been duped by his charms. And I must confess that I was flattered with how you believed my word to such a degree that you rejected his proposal, despite that you adored him.”

“Adored?” I muttered, “Mr. Darcy, correct me if I am in error, but it sounds as if you think that I was in love with him? Do you think that?”

“Well, your words sound as if…”

I closed my eyes, frustrated with myself! Once more, I had used the wrong words and allowed the image to display something that the reality was not.

“Mr. Darcy, if you thought so, then it is not your fault. My own behavior is to blame, now that I consider it. When I say that I was flattered by his attentions, what I refer to is merely in the careless sense. He showed attention to me, and therefore, I was flattered by it. But only because he stirred my vanity—or rather, he swelled it. Sometimes, our vanity gets the better of our true natures, and it did so with me. And perhaps, it was not hard to do, since my vanity was so very much wounded when I had met him. I suppose that, to my eternal shame, I was looking for a person to help patch it up.”

“Why was your vanity wounded to begin with?”

I bit my lip, concerned about saying too much. Yet, I then recalled all the resolutions that I had made when my father had passed away. No more would I keep my mouth closed, for fear of tomorrow. For, very easily, tomorrow was not always a guarantee.

“Recall,” I reminded him, “that I am being entirely open with you, because I have seen what happens when the door of sincerity remains closed between us.”

“I am braced for the truth.”

I breathed in deeply, and then began my confession.

“I believe that, it was easy for Mr. Wickham’s charms to have a strong effect upon me because my pride was wounded from when you refused to dance with me at the assembly when we first met.”

Once I had said it, I was immediately ashamed, so I did not look at Mr. Darcy.

“I know,” I sighed, “it is a painfully embarrassing thing

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