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Her attention returned to his face.

“You heard the account of the locked door, and what I believed I was doing by keeping it shut. Afterwards came the other dream. Nicholas had given men the words they used against his wife, and still expected her to make everything right by yielding.”

“Yes.”

“I told you what happened. I did not tell you how often I feared I might discover the same conviction in myself while awake.”

Elizabeth did not answer at once. He made himself continue before she could offer a comfort which would prevent him from finishing.

“I have done it in smaller matters. Decided what ought to happen, made the arrangements, and supposed that the absence of an objection meant everybody had been satisfied.”

“Not everybody is inclined to object to you.”

“I know that now.”

“You knew it before. You did not always think it necessary that they should.”

The correction was quiet. Darcy looked at her, felt the first movement of resistance, and recognized how much easier it would be to confess a fault generally than to hear her name its particular form.

“You are right.”

“I have no pleasure in making you look so grave.”

“You need not withdraw it.”

“I did not intend to.”

He smiled despite himself. Her mouth softened in answer.

“Those dreams frightened me,” he said. “I woke remembering that I had thought myself justified. I did not merely refuse to open the door. I believed that the woman behind it ought to be grateful. I have wondered whether it is enough to act properly while wishing to have my own way.”

Elizabeth regarded him for a moment.

“If wishing to have one’s own way were proof of an irredeemable character, I should be very ill qualified to advise you.”

“That is not what I meant.”

“I know. But you seem to expect the correction of a fault to remove every temptation to repeat it.”

He rested his hand upon the desk. There was no useful defence to be made against that observation.

She leaned a little nearer.

“After the storm, when I asked you to wait, you waited.”

“Yes.”

“You did not require me to explain myself before you would step away.”

“I wished you had not asked.”

“So did I, before I had decided what I thought.”

The admission surprised him. She saw it and smiled.

“You were not the only person inconvenienced by my hesitation.”

He took the hand she laid upon the desk. She allowed it, turning her fingers into his.