Page 9 of The Cherry Trees of Rosings
“I am afraid you will not believe me.”
Another shudder swept through her as she remembered the sudden appearance and disappearance of a certain apparition. Elizabeth finished the rest of the tea in a single gulp.
Charlotte tsked again, taking the empty cup from her hands.
“You will be surprised at what I think is believable and unbelievable after seven-and-twenty years of life.” She poured more tea into the cup.“Truly, will you not tell me?” She fixed a steady gaze on Elizabeth.
Elizabeth huffed. “I know all your tricks, Charlotte. We have been friends for too long.”
“Then, tell me, does it have something to do with Mr. Darcy?”
Elizabeth gasped. Charlotte gave her a rueful smile.
“I remember you were telling me something about him, the last time you were like this. Before we were interrupted.” Charlotte added two more heaping spoonfuls of sugar to the fresh cup of tea and stirred it.
Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment.
“You are not wrong. But in this instance, you will have to trust me, Charlotte.” She accepted the offered tea.
“I wish to resolve this matter on my own.”
Chapter 7:
Night Visitor
The next time she saw Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth wasnotprepared. (Despite telling herself she would be.)
But then again, she had not expected to wake up with a fright and find him sitting on the chair beside her bed!
“Goodness gracious!”
Elizabeth clutched at the covers tightly and stared at Mr. Darcy. He appeared the same as before. Handsome. Well-coiffed. Dressed in his great coat and fawn pants, with a white silk cravat around his neck.
“I apologize, Miss Bennet, for scaring you,” Mr. Darcy said, almost regretfully. “I could not help myself.”
A flash of annoyance speared through Elizabeth.
Of all the ghosts that could have haunted her, it was the man she detested the most! Her fear disappeared at the heels of her anger.
“What do you want, Mr. Darcy?” she asked coldly.
He paled. And then cleared his throat.
“It is not what I want. It is what I… find myself in,” he said. His gaze fixed on her in the dun darkness. “Am I dead, Miss Bennet? Is that why…” He fell silent and stared at his hands resting on the arms of the chair.
A pang of sorrow touched Elizabeth’s heart. She bit her lip. No matter her personal dislike of the man, she would not have wished death upon him.
“I believe so. But I do not know…” she said after a moment.
A sudden lump formed in her throat.
She could not imagine a world without Jane in it. Or her beloved father. She wondered about Mr. Darcy’s sister, and the cousin he had been with when the carriage overturned.
“News of your… demise… has not reached Rosings. I am sorry,” she whispered.
A tear rolled down her face, startling her. Mr. Darcy looked startled too. Then he smiled sadly.
“It was not your fault.”
