the sword that helped set him on the path to her. And that brought back all the questions, and all the pain; he replaced the katana on its rack and thought himself a fool for seeking solace in a place such as this.
When he turned to go, he nearly walked into the small black-clad figure that had planted itself directly behind him.
“Anne! I didn’t hear you come in!”
His cousin’s thin lips curled upward ever so slightly. “Going unnoticed is one of my specialties.”
“What are you doing out of bed?”
“I could give the same answer as you.” Anne looked past Darcy at the swords and maces behind him before lifting her gaze to the heads poking from the wall all the way to the vaulted ceiling high above. “I have been visiting old friends.”
On the young woman’s pale face was a curious mixture of fondness and revulsion. She wiped it away with a smile as she looked again into Darcy’s eyes.
“ WHEN HE TURNED TO GO, HE NEARLY WALKED INTO A SMALL BLACK-CLAD FIGURE .”
“It is good to see you up and about. I have been looking forward to the time when we might again walk the grounds together, as we did so long ago.”
She offered him her right hand.
Darcy didn’t take it.
“In the middle of the night?” he said.
“There is as much to admire in the nighttime as in the daytime.”
“I still feel quite weak.”
“You may lean on me, if need be.”
“I would be afraid to crush you, you are so delicate a thing.”
“I am stronger than I look.”
She was still holding out her hand to Darcy, and he found himself taking it even as he said, “I will need a coat.”
“No, you won’t,” Anne told him, and she moved in close to his side as she guided him from the room.
Once outside, they strolled up the gravel path to the rose garden. Anne was right: Darcy barely noticed the chill of night, and the lack of light didn’t bother him either. The world was still bathed in the same dull gray glow he’d noticed from the windows, only now he could see small pinpricks of glistening brilliance spread throughout it. Not overhead in the sky—these weren’t stars he saw. The twinkling was in the bushes and the grass and the trees and sometimes swirling in the air.
Darcy rubbed his eyes with his free hand, and the tiny white sparks disappeared.
“Are you all right?” Anne asked.
“Yes. It’s just ... the tonic your mother gives me is helping, I’m certain, yet I still feel ... not quite myself.”
“Surely, that will pass with time, though I wonder if you’ll ever feel exactly as you used to. Going through such an ordeal could not help but change how you see yourself and those around you.”
“Perhaps,” Darcy said in a tone that did not invite further discussion. There was a truth to his cousin’s words he could recognize even as he tried to evade it.
Anne let only a few steps pass by in silence.
“I’m glad you’re here, Fitzwilliam. I’m sure that sounds strange, but I mean it. That you should end up at Rosings in your time of trouble almost seems like providence. Now we have a chance to get to know each other again. We haven’t really talked, just you and I, in years, and we’ve both changed so much since then. I think you’ll find that we have more in common now than we ever did as children.”
“Yes, well ... I do appreciate your attentiveness since I arrived. You’ve been extraordinarily understanding, given the circumstances. After all that’s happened these past few years, I could hardly have expected you to show such concern for me.”
“How could I not support my cousin when I find him on my doorstep in such need—and so very alone?”
If Darcy hadn’t been trained to withstand every torture known to man, he would have winced.
Anne gave his hand a squeeze. It was a cold grip, but one Darcy found, to his surprise, not entirely unwelcome. It was good to have
something
to cling to when all else seemed to be slipping from his grasp.
“Ahh! Look! Isn’t it
When he turned to go, he nearly walked into the small black-clad figure that had planted itself directly behind him.
“Anne! I didn’t hear you come in!”
His cousin’s thin lips curled upward ever so slightly. “Going unnoticed is one of my specialties.”
“What are you doing out of bed?”
“I could give the same answer as you.” Anne looked past Darcy at the swords and maces behind him before lifting her gaze to the heads poking from the wall all the way to the vaulted ceiling high above. “I have been visiting old friends.”
On the young woman’s pale face was a curious mixture of fondness and revulsion. She wiped it away with a smile as she looked again into Darcy’s eyes.
“ WHEN HE TURNED TO GO, HE NEARLY WALKED INTO A SMALL BLACK-CLAD FIGURE .”
“It is good to see you up and about. I have been looking forward to the time when we might again walk the grounds together, as we did so long ago.”
She offered him her right hand.
Darcy didn’t take it.
“In the middle of the night?” he said.
“There is as much to admire in the nighttime as in the daytime.”
“I still feel quite weak.”
“You may lean on me, if need be.”
“I would be afraid to crush you, you are so delicate a thing.”
“I am stronger than I look.”
She was still holding out her hand to Darcy, and he found himself taking it even as he said, “I will need a coat.”
“No, you won’t,” Anne told him, and she moved in close to his side as she guided him from the room.
Once outside, they strolled up the gravel path to the rose garden. Anne was right: Darcy barely noticed the chill of night, and the lack of light didn’t bother him either. The world was still bathed in the same dull gray glow he’d noticed from the windows, only now he could see small pinpricks of glistening brilliance spread throughout it. Not overhead in the sky—these weren’t stars he saw. The twinkling was in the bushes and the grass and the trees and sometimes swirling in the air.
Darcy rubbed his eyes with his free hand, and the tiny white sparks disappeared.
“Are you all right?” Anne asked.
“Yes. It’s just ... the tonic your mother gives me is helping, I’m certain, yet I still feel ... not quite myself.”
“Surely, that will pass with time, though I wonder if you’ll ever feel exactly as you used to. Going through such an ordeal could not help but change how you see yourself and those around you.”
“Perhaps,” Darcy said in a tone that did not invite further discussion. There was a truth to his cousin’s words he could recognize even as he tried to evade it.
Anne let only a few steps pass by in silence.
“I’m glad you’re here, Fitzwilliam. I’m sure that sounds strange, but I mean it. That you should end up at Rosings in your time of trouble almost seems like providence. Now we have a chance to get to know each other again. We haven’t really talked, just you and I, in years, and we’ve both changed so much since then. I think you’ll find that we have more in common now than we ever did as children.”
“Yes, well ... I do appreciate your attentiveness since I arrived. You’ve been extraordinarily understanding, given the circumstances. After all that’s happened these past few years, I could hardly have expected you to show such concern for me.”
“How could I not support my cousin when I find him on my doorstep in such need—and so very alone?”
If Darcy hadn’t been trained to withstand every torture known to man, he would have winced.
Anne gave his hand a squeeze. It was a cold grip, but one Darcy found, to his surprise, not entirely unwelcome. It was good to have
something
to cling to when all else seemed to be slipping from his grasp.
“Ahh! Look! Isn’t it
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