Elizabeth recovered her composure with a wry smile. “As I said, I just came for a stroll. I am Elizabeth Bennet. I am visiting Mr. and Mrs. Collins.”
“I see… A stroll might be beneficial, though I do not know many young ladies who favour such exercise.”
Elizabeth’s smile widened. “I am one of the very few. It is my habit to walk when sleep evades me, sir, though I own it is not the most prudent. However, here, near Rosings, I am not concerned for my safety.”
Under the moonlight, his smile looked amused and his expression even more pleasant.
“And you? I do not wish to intrude, but I assume you have been attending Miss de Bourgh. Is she better, I pray?”
He inclined his head, his expression growing more serious. “I have, and I shall return in the morning. My uncle remains with her. Her case requires the utmost care, and I cannot yet offer a clear opinion. Time and close observation will tell. And prayers would certainly help.”
There was a brief pause before he continued. “I shall leave you now, Miss Bennet. May I escort you back to the house?”
“Oh no, that is not necessary, sir. I shall be home in no time.”
“Good. Then I shall wait here until I see you enter the house.”
“You are very kind. I assure you once again it is not necessary. It was a pleasure to meet you, Dr Rease.”
“Likewise, Miss Bennet. A most lovely surprise.”
She returned to the parsonage, turning as she reached the door to look back at the doctor. He raised a hand in farewell, then mounted his horse and departed. From the few steps she had watched him take, Elizabeth noted with mild curiosity that he walked with a slight limp. She wondered about it, just as she wondered whether Dr Rease was nearly as good a doctor as he was a pleasant gentleman.
Inside the parsonage, she was stunned to meet Mr. Collins, who stared at her with a most displeased frown.
“I was out just for a moment to breathe some fresh air,” she explained. “I was worried my headache had returned, but it is gone now.”
“You should not leave the house after dinner, Cousin, not for a moment. I am responsible for you, and I take my duty very seriously. I am glad your headache is gone, though. You must try your best not to fall ill. Everyone is already busy with Missde Bourgh, and we have no time for more problems. Now let us sleep — I shall lock the door.”
She quickly parted from him with a brief good night, but returning to her chamber, sleep still kept its distance. Her agitation had only slightly diminished. Mr. Darcy’s letter haunted her still, and her own foolish missive, now in his possession, burned in her memory like an unquenchable flame. To all this was added Miss de Bourgh’s situation, which affected her more than she expected.
Elizabeth eventually fell asleep in the early hours of the morning, but at the first rays of daylight and first calls of birds, she woke up abruptly.
Another night of restless torment had exhausted her and ruined her disposition. She read Mr. Darcy’s letter one more time, then folded it in her reticule, which she hid in a drawer. She had nothing to do at such an early hour, so the only way to employ her time was with a walk. She dressed properly, even with particular care, knowing that she might have to face another unexpected encounter. If only Mr. Collins would not find out that she had met Dr Rease in the middle of the night! Or that she had written a letter to Mr. Darcy! Or that Mr. Darcy had written her a letter after she had refused his marriage proposal. Dear Lord, she had so many things to conceal from Mr. Collins and from any other soul!
She unlocked the door and stepped out. Dawson was already awake, so she mentioned her whereabouts, in case someone might enquire.
Her feet carried her instinctively towards the secluded grove where she had encountered Mr. Darcy the day before. Why there? She could not say, or she did not dare answer that question. She certainly did not expect to meet anyone, but she had not gone far when the gentleman himself appeared, ridinghis horse along the path as if summoned by her thoughts. Elizabeth halted, mortified into silence, her cheeks aflame.
“Miss Bennet,” he said, his voice low and composed.
“Mr. Darcy. What a surprise,” she whispered.
He dismounted and approached her, while she struggled to meet his eyes.
“I confess I am not surprised to meet you. In fact, I planned to wait for you in the grove, hoping you might appear. There is something of great importance that I feel we must clarify.”
She held her breath, waiting.
“What could that be, sir?”
He extended a folded piece of paper — her letter. She gasped, and her heart skipped a beat.
“I was surprised to receive this,” he said. “Yet upon reading the first lines, I understood it was never meant for my eyes. I have come to return it, if you so wish.”
She stared at him in surprise, her tongue tied by confusion. At length, she managed, “It was not meant for you, indeed. I mean, it was…but not meant for you to read it… I know I sound foolish, just as I feel…”
“You have no reason to feel foolish, I assure you.”
