“Your sister, Miss Bennet, fell ill while visiting Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst. You came to care for her and have been here two days. There was no opportunity for you to walk out of doors this morning, so you left for your excursion after tea. I…I happened to be in the area also.”
“Is my sister well?” She pushed away from him. “If Jane is here, then I must return to her. She will worry. Jane is rarely ill. Why is she not at Longbourn? Why does she remain at Netherfield Park? How long have you been there? Mr. Darcy, I should not be here with you, and you should not be with me. And why are you carrying me? Put me down this instant.”
Her mind was clearly jumbled. He could see her determination and knew she would endeavor to stand. Was it safe enough to let her try?
“Before I do, pray tell me, how many eyes do I have?”
“You do not know how many you have? How unusual. I thought you to be a man of intelligence.” She giggled. “One moment and I will look. Let me see. You have only one eye. Cyclops! And you have two noses, and three mouths. How are you able to eat? Is one for liquid? One for meat and one for sweets? Odd, Mr. Darcy. I had thought you to be a handsome man. Now you look silly.”
He could not help but smile.
Then she pressed her fingertips into her scalp, and his smile disappeared.
“We are in a bit of a muddle, Miss Elizabeth.” Her eyes had closed as she continued to rub her brow. “My first instinct when I came upon you was to wait for help to arrive. The danger of moving someone who has sustained a blow to their head sufficiently to render them unconscious is worrisome. Withthat said, it shall soon be dark. Frost is in the air. It became too dangerous for you to remain at the lakeshore. I have been carrying you and will continue to do so. I estimate that we are already almost halfway back to the main house.”
“I appreciate your effort.” Miss Elizabeth opened her eyes. “Is the light dimming in the setting sun?”
“It is.”
“Then it will get colder. You need your coat.”
“We need to get you into a comfortable room with a roaring fire more than I need you to return my coat. Do not worry about me. The exercise is warming me.” Stepping away from the tree trunk, he continued toward the house.
“Mr. Darcy, I…” A drop of rain fell on her cheek, and they both looked up at the sky.
“Blast!” Darcy held her tighter. Instinctively, she reached around his neck as he picked up his pace. “I apologize for any discomfort I may cause, Miss Elizabeth, but we must return to Netherfield immediately. It would not be good for you to be caught in a downpour.”
As he spoke the drops fell fast, drops that bounced off the forest floor. His hat protected his face from the rain, but Miss Elizabeth would be vulnerable. He pulled the arm across her back closer to him until her face was pressed into his neck. Her warm breath soothed him. When she spoke, it felt like a kiss.
“Do not be concerned, sir. I appreciate your caring for me for I do not believe I have the strength to take a step on my own, despite Miss Bingley declaring me to be an excellent walker.”
He started back around the lake. Though he had not run across the fields of Pemberley on anything other than on horseback since he was a lad, he could walk and carry a heavy burden for hours. The tenants on his estate knew him to be a man who did not mind hard work.
The mud that lined the path on their journey from the house had become slipperier with the rain. Several times, Darcy had to catch himself as the ground under him seemed to slide away. Each time, the swift movements he took to recover jarred Miss Elizabeth, yet she never complained, only tightened her arms around his neck.
Their progress was slow, and the roof of the house looked just as distant as it had been when they started. He felt dampness against his neck and knew it was not the rain. Had he tasted it, he suspected he would have found the salt of her tears.
He knew not what to do to ease her pain. What he did know was the danger of remaining unprotected in the cold, wet darkness.
“Pray, hang on tightly.” When he felt the muscles of her arms tense, he increased his pace.
“My head is spinning,” she whimpered into his neck.
His heart ached for her pain.
“Mr. Darcy, sir…?”
“Yes, Miss Elizabeth.” He would offer her his all if only he could ease her pain and get her to safety.
“Sir, each time you move your head, the brim of your hat comes into contact with my temple….”
Oh, good heavens! He was causing her pain.He tipped his head back until the blasted hat fell to the ground.
Stopping under another tree, he rested his back against the gnarled trunk. The only thing visible above the treetops was the smoke from Netherfield’s chimneys.
“Is the world still circling inside your head?”
“Constantly,” she whispered. “Please, I beg you, put me down. I fear I may be ill if we continue.”
