Clarence shook his head.
“Mama only loves what she can control. She hasneverbeen able to control you,” Anne said. “You are your own man. If it is pure love you seek, then those in this room offer it to you….” Anne’s voice lowered further as Darcy immediately turned to Elizabeth.
She had moved to the edge of the bed, her legs dangling off the side, and had remained quiet during the discussion. She looked up at him, her eyes still brimming with unshed tears.
“Miss Bennet. It appears the sun is beckoning us. Might I entreat you to…take that phaeton ride?”
“Yes, please.”
There was a chill slowly creeping into the valley. The winds had abated, and the clouds were far enough in the distance that Elizabeth was not concerned. But for the storm in her heart, she could not say the same.
They bounced along quietly in Miss de Bourgh’s phaeton, having not spoken since leaving Rosings. Yet, although snuggled warmly under a blanket with a brick at their feet, she shuddered. Elizabeth knew where he was driving. The memory of the duel became more vivid in her mind the closer they came to the grounds.
Her breathing began to increase as he brought the carriage to a halt before jumping down and helping her descend.
She walked directly to the spot and attempted to formulate the words. “It was here…where you were shot. Here is where I knelt over you unable to cease my tears.”
“Can you recall what occurred after that?”
She shook her head, curls bouncing. “No.That is where it all ends.”
“And that was when I woke up in the parlor of the parsonage.” He then extended his hand to her. “Come, let us walk.”
She put her hand in his. They skirted the outside of what had once appeared to be the great hall.
“What do you remember of…of the other life?”
Her eyes remained forward as she spoke. “I remember that it just seemed to start. There was no preface. My existence seemed to stem from the day I found you, and you were brought into the parsonage.”
“Do you recall where you found me?” he asked, stepping over a small log before him.
“No. Just that I had. You were gravely injured, and I thought you would die.” She attempted to hide the catch in her throat but could not. He squeezed her hand, which she had forgotten he was holding and stamped down the flutter of her heart. “I remember how I felt so certain the miniature of Georgiana’s father looked so much like you.”
“Yes.”
“Was that truly what your father and mother looked like?” she asked.
“Yes, and those were pictures I had not seen in a long time.”
“They are no longer at Pemberley?”
“Well…they are at the bottom of the lake.”
“That was the locket? The one you sank as pirate treasure?”
She released his hand and walked to what remained of a wall. Leaning against it, she could not look at him when she whispered. “You must despise me.”
“Despise you?”
“Yes. It is because of my faith in anunworthyman this all occurred.”
“It was because ofmyarrogance and conceit that this all occurred.”
She shook her head. “Sir, you are too kind to me, but you must see you are mistaken.”
He joined her at the wall. “Miss Bennet, you must know my ‘other life’ was one I did not wish to leave.”
“What?” Her eyes opened wide, and she asked in astonishment, “But how can that be? I did not even save you. You died.”
