At first, Jane had thought nothing of it. She assumed Mr. Masters was simply coming along to keep from being home alone. Then she realized that there was another guest at Netherfield, Colonel Fitzwilliam, who could have kept Mr. Masters company. He was deliberately coming to Longbourn, and if the evidence was to be believed, he was coming specifically to be in her company.
The problem was that Jane was beginning to like the man very much.
Oddly, this was the fact that distressed her the most. Was she as fickle as Mr. Bingley that she could change the object of her affections so quickly? Was she so shallow that she would fall in love with any handsome man who paid attention to her?
Even more worrisome was the question as to whether she truly esteemed Mr. Masters or whether she was drawn to him simply because he was so very different from Mr. Bingley who had hurt her so badly.
By the time she reached the end of the path, Jane still had not reached any conclusion, but at least the brisk exercise had worked out some of her anxiety. She leaned against a tree to rest. She could not sit on the ground without ruining her gown, but at least the tree was sturdy and supported her weight.
The tree was comforting to lean against. It was firm and unyielding, and it connected her in some ephemeral way to the ground beneath her feet, helping her feel more supported and stable than she had felt in over a week.
Jane sighed. She knew there was no solution to any of it. She would simply have to continue to live her life day by day. Hopefully, she would gradually grow in her understanding of herself and everyone around her. Hopefully, she would learn more about how to deal with life.
Right now, however, she would take this moment of peace and use it to rest her weary mind and heart.
Jane did not know how long she leaned against the tree, nor did she care to know. When she was ready to return to the house, she stood back up. She squared her shoulders, breathed in as much courage as she could hold, and took a step back toward the house.
That was when the tree, which had been so comforting moments ago, took its payment for services rendered. Jane’s foot caught on a root which was jutting up from the ground. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground.
Her first thought was that if she had known she would get her gown dirty, she would have simply sat on the ground in the first place. Her second thought, however, was that her foot hurt. And her third thought was that her wrist hurt.
Assuming that the pain was simply that of a few pulled muscles, Jane moved to stand. As soon as she put pressure onher pained wrist, however, the dull ache flared into a sharp pain that made her hiss.
Using only her good hand, she tried again. This time, her foot did the same thing.
Jane sat back on the ground and simply focused on not crying from the pain as she allowed the sharpness to dull back down into a simple ache.
Once the pain in both her wrist and ankle had receded somewhat, she once again tried to stand. Without putting pressure on her right hand or her left foot, it was rather difficult, but she eventually managed it. Then, using an awkward combination of hopping, limping, and leaning on trees whenever possible, she made her slow way out of the woods.
By the time she reached the open field that lay between her and home, Jane was exhausted. Ignoring the additional damage to her gown, she sat down on the ground and leaned against a tree at the edge of the wood.
Though her previous exertions had warmed her, now that she was still once again, she began to be rather cold. Despite her chill, she could not make herself stand. As she began to shiver, she leaned her head back against the trunk of the tree and closed her eyes. Moments later a few silent tears made their slow way down her cheeks.
“Miss Bennet!” cried a voice which forced her eyes open.
Mr. Masters was dismounting his horse and rushing towards her. “Miss Bennet, are you ill? What is the matter?”
Jane could hear the very real fear in his voice, and her instinct to reduce any pain in those around her kicked in enough to make her sit up and answer him. “I am not ill,” she said. “I fell in the woods and seem to have injured both my wrist and myfoot. I am resting here to gather my strength so that I can make it the rest of the way home.”
“You are freezing, Miss Bennet,” he said as he removed his greatcoat.
“I am well enough,” she said, though her shivering made it obvious she was lying.
Without responding to her statement, he draped his coat around her shoulders, allowing it to drag on the ground behind her. “Miss Bennet, I am going to pick you up and place you on my horse. If you have any objections, now is the time to voice them.”
“I have no objections,” she answered in a small voice. Though his presence was commanding and even a little forceful, Jane felt little other than relief at his manner. She knew, now that he was here and was taking control, everything would be well.
The relief of knowing that she didn’t have to force herself to be stronger than she was caused tears to once again gather in her eyes.
As he leaned down to pick her up, he must have noticed them, for he said, “Do not worry, Miss Bennet. We shall get you home and warmed up soon enough.”
The feeling of being lifted in Mr. Masters’ strong arms was an additional comfort. Surrounded as she was by his coat, his arms, and his chest, Jane felt as though the gentleman was somehow protecting her from everything unpleasant in the world.
“Thank you,” she said quietly.
By the time he had placed her on his horse, she was warm enough that she was no longer shivering. From there, it took about five minutes to get home.
An hour later, Jane was in clean clothes by a warm fire while Mr. Jones, the local apothecary, examined her wrist and foot, both of which were now badly swollen.
