“Not true,” he said, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing.There is only one whose company I desire, but she will avoid me at all costs.He picked up the paper and glanced at the headlines before depositing it back on the table and walking to the washbasin. Looking at himself in the mirror, he splashed water on his face and ran his hands through his unruly curls.Our children would have a mop of curls.Snapping back from the thought, he ruefully shook his head.It is not meant to be, old man. Whatever her feelings for you, which might have begun to bloom at the parsonage, are obviously gone. But why?
Within the hour, he maneuvered down the stairs and out into the bright winter sunlight.I must take myself off from the ghosts haunting my mind.
The walk had not been arduous, but he had been lost in thought, meandering through the woods, when he realized his feet had led him where it all began the previous week.I stood here, and she there.He stared as if he concentrated long enough, Elizabeth would materialize holding his letter.
“Thatblastedletter. How could I have given her something so damnable?” He walked along the road, taking a bridle trail toward a meadow. “First, I insult her family and tell her I love her against my will and better judgment, then compound the slight by writing it all down on paper?” He wandered aimlessly, eyes on his boots, kicking stones along the path. “I hope she has burnt it or has forgotten the contents in the last week’s mishaps,” he whispered.“If I were any type of gentleman, I would ask her forgiveness when next I saw her.”
He had kicked another stone and it bounced off of a fallen tree, coming to rest alongside a pair of half boots peeking out from woolen skirts. When he raised his eyes, a pair of brown ones stared back at him.
She watched him approach, mumbling to himself; she hoped he would not look up and see her; maybe he would continue down the smaller path at the fork. Luck was not with her, and an errant stone brought him to her. She had known it was folly to come out this morning, to sit in the same location she had found him unconscious and bleeding.
Last night, her emotions were nothing if not distraught. Finding that letter, the letter which was most certainlynottheone Mr. Darcy had given her on that fateful day last week, had thrown her world into a tumult. She could not look at him during dinner, nor afterward in the music room.He had seemed so eager to converse with me, but I could not remedy where that letter had come from. “His” words of love had undone me.Her cheeks grew warm at the mere thought of them.No, it was quite the opposite of what I had steeled myself to expect upon the letter’s second reading. That so much feeling resides inside the breast of the man who I have always believed so cold? Those were not the sentiments of Mr. Darcy. Those were the words of Mr. Fitzroy.
And now she watched him, holding her breath for the moment of discovery. Then he was before her.
“Elizabeth!” he said, his eyes meeting hers. His ability to speak ceased and he could only stare.
“Mr. Darcy.”
“Forgive me. Miss Bennet. I…um… I see you have been enjoying the sunshine this morning.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at his attempt of conversation. “I have. Only yesterday, I thought I might never see these woods again but am grateful to Miss de Bourgh for her kindness in extending the invitation.”
“May I join you on your walk back to Rosings?”
There was a thinness to his voice, a strain Elizabeth did not recognize. After only a brief hesitation, she replied, “I would like that.”
A brisk breeze made her eyes tear a bit and she reached in her pocket for her handkerchief. She saw his attention directed at the article. “It was such a thoughtful gift.”
“It was.” He raised his hand, indicating which direction to walk.
“Such a surprise, as if from a dream.”
His steps faltered, but he quickly recovered, nodding at her pronouncement.
“I have enjoyed making Colonel Fitzwilliam’s acquaintance,” she said, hoping to encourage discussion.
“Have you?” A peculiar look crossed his face.
“Yes. It must be satisfying to have such a bond with a cousin. You have met mine,” she said, with a wry grin. “I am certain you recognize yours is superior to my own.”
She was surprised to hear him laugh at her remarks, and she began to find it easier to not only be alone in his presence but to ignore the letter weighing heavily in her pocket.
“Richard is the best of men,” he said, walking beside her. “Our youth was spent in pursuit of diversion. My lifewould be less without him.” A strange sound caught in his throat.
“I am certain you have had many unforgettable adventures. And the colonel seems to be one who has always had an adventurous spirit.”
Darcy brightened. “But we did not attempt too many dangerous activities. It was not as if I convinced him to jump off a cliff strapped to Da Vinci’s flying machine.”
Her body jerked to a halt. “What did you say?”
“I was making a comparison to the flying machines of Da Vinci. Have you read of them, Miss Bennet?”
She could not place the sound in his voice.Hope? Fear?She knew not what. But she was all too aware of his intense gaze. “No. I have read of Da Vinci’s inventions, but my father…my father…”
She shuddered, and he reached up to straighten the wrap that had started to slip from her shoulders. His hands stayed at the end of the fabric. “Miss Bennet…”
“Yes?”
