Page 159 of Bitterness of Spirit & The Painting

“Yes, I am well, thank you. I hope Stevens conveyed my apologies to you.”

“He did. We were happy to know you were safe.”

“You are very kind, Miss Bennet. You were about to return home, I assume?”

“Yes. I have not only come here tonight, but whenever I could not sleep. I doubt any other honourable woman has such a bad habit,” she attempted to joke.

“I have the same habit. At Pemberley I have a pond where I often swim. But having the sea in front of me was much more tempting.”

“You went swimming one night? Far, far away?”

“I did…How did you know?”

“I saw you entering the water and then disappearing. I feared you might have drowned.”

“I am very sorry for frightening you. I did not expect anybody would be watching me at that hour. But…you were on the shore, waving to me?”

“I was,” she smiled.

“And I was certain I was losing my mind…I…”

“What do you mean?” she asked. He watched her lips parting as she spoke and he fought with the desire to test their warm softness.

“I was thinking of you so much, that I could hardly tell the difference between dreams and reality. I was uncertain whether you were a woman or a chimera, as your image was always in my mind.”

The confession slipped from his mouth before he had time to guard the words.

“Forgive me, I did not intend to distress you. But surely you knew that.”

“I did not know, sir. I have often asked myself what you thought of me after that day.”

“Have you? Did it matter to you?”

“Very much so.”

“But why? You hated me and—”

“I never hated you. I perhaps disliked certain flaws in your character that I assumed to be true. And I was angry with you for your unfair interference between Jane and Bingley. Just as I am now deeply grateful to you for reuniting them. I know it was your doing. Even Charles admitted it.”

“Please do not speak of gratitude, Miss Bennet. Even if you feel it, I do not deserve it.”

He suddenly stopped, looking around.

“It is very late and we should not be talking here, in the middle of the night. May I escort you home? We may continue our conversation tomorrow, in more appropriate circumstances.”

She felt her cheeks burning. How silly and inconsiderate of her!

“There is no need to escort me; it is a very short distance. Coming to the cottage would expose you to even more danger, as one of the other guests might see us. I do not wish to place you in a compromising position that might dishonour you.”

She turned to leave, mortified by what he thought had been gentle teasing. He gently grasped her arm.

“We have already placed ourselves in several compromising situations, Miss Bennet. But it is not my honour I am worried about. I am always delighted to be with you, under any circumstances. Any time. This I cannot deny.”

Her nearness was more intoxicating than the brandy that was already losing its effect. Her lips were suddenly dry and she licked them, so she could reply.

“I am glad to hear that…I was so worried about you,” she suddenly declared, in complete earnest. “I shall leave now, but I hope you are telling me the truth. I hope you are well.”

Careful to look for any sign of opposition, he took her hands in his and brought them to his mouth. She did not reject him, only held her breath until she felt the tender touch of his lips on the back of her hands. Then, while his thumbs gently stroked them, he placed other kisses—warm and sweet—in her palms. The sensation was so powerful that she sighed and her heart pounded as never before.