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Trying the latch, he discovered it was indeed locked from the inside, and his voice broke as he cried, “Elizabeth! It is Fitzwilliam Darcy! Please open the door!”

For some time, the only sound that could be heard was the wind as it whistled across the pond. William had begun to ponder how to break into the cottage when suddenly the sound of the board being removed from the door broke the silence, and it slowly opened. Duke immediately rushed inside, where he abruptly sat down beside someone, his tail beginning to thump the floor. William stepped inside but waited for his eyes to adjust to the scant light before he went farther. Once he could see clearly, he realised Elizabeth was standing only steps away. Moreover, she was swaying as though she might fall at any second.

Relieved beyond measure that the woman he loved was alive, William forgot every resolution he had made about never seeing her again and rushed to embrace her. Crushing her to his chest, he moaned softly before kissing the top of her head, saying, “I feared you were lost to me forever.”

Instantly conscious that the pelisse she had on was soaking wet and she was violently trembling, William pushed her to arms’ length and began to remove the pelisse. Before he could accomplish that, however, he took note that one sleeve on the pelisse was soaked with blood. Recalling what Drago had said about shooting at her, he cried, “Oh sweetheart, have you been shot?”

“It is only a ga-gash,” Elizabeth managed to reply.

Slipping the wet pelisse off caused the wound to bleed profusely, so he ripped the arm of her gown to assess the severity of the injury. Relieved that the bullet had only left a deep gash, William removed his cravat and began to bind her injury as quickly as he could. As he worked, he said, “In my bag is a salve Mrs. Reynolds concocts, which will help with the pain and tamp down infection. I will apply it to your wound once you are out of these wet clothes.”

Looking about the cabin, he was relieved to see that what hay was stacked in the cabin not only helped to insulate the walls but was also fresh enough to feed to Zeus. Spying a make-shift bed consisting of a wooden frame filled with some of the hay and covered by an old piece of leather, he gently guided Elizabeth there, settling her down on the edge.

“Once I have a fire started, you must get out of these wet clothes before you catch your death of cold.”

Having said that, William rushed to secure the front door before bringing Zeus around to the other end of the cabin where the animal readily entered the stable to escape the falling sleet. Once he had secured that door, he unsaddled Zeus and covered him with an old blanket that he found hanging on a wall. Relieved that he had seen Zeus relieving his thirst at the pond minutes ago, he put some hay down for the animal before grabbing his hunting bag and returning to the cottage side.

Once in there, he removed his greatcoat, hanging it on a hook beside the door. Then, he emptied the contents of his bag on a small table that stood in front of a hearth and a box of wood that was almost full. Locating his tinderbox containing a flint, steel and some charcloth in the bag, in no time at all he had a fire burning in the fireplace. A chamber-candleholder containing a partially burned candle was on a shelf above, so he lit the candle and set it back on the shelf to illuminate the room. Then, he sorted through the contents of his bag to find the food and a flask of water.

Crossing to Elizabeth, he knelt in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Drink as much as you can.” Because she was trembling so strongly that she could not hold the flask steady, William clasped both her hands in his, allowing her to bring it to her lips to swallow several mouthfuls.

Once she had, he did the same with the flask of brandy, saying, “This may be harder to swallow, but I believe it will warm you much better.”

Elizabeth dutifully took two swallows of brandy, choking a little before she refused more. “Do you feel able to eat?” he asked. “Cook packed bread, cheese, sausages and biscuits.”

She shook her head, stammering, “Too-too co-cold.”

“Maybe once you have warmed, you will feel like eating.”

He tossed some sausages and a hunk of cheese to Duke, who, after eating them, found a hay-filled spot in the corner where he proceeded to lie down and close his eyes.

Meanwhile, William shook out a blanket rolled tightly and tied with string, which was always in his hunting bag. Inside the blanket were rolled some of his old clothes. They included a shirt with frayed cuffs and two pairs of well-worn stockings. Spreading the blanket over the leather on the bed, he placed his clothes atop it before addressing Elizabeth again.

“We both know you could die if you remain in wet clothes all night; therefore, I shall turn my back and close my eyes so that you may remove your clothes.” Elizabeth’s eyes widened, but she did not reply, so he added, “Once you have donned my shirt, pray let me know.”

She still seemed confused, so William clasped her shoulders. “Look at me, dearest.” Once Elizabeth’s eyes locked with his, he said, “Do you trust me?”

She nodded.

“That is all I ask,” he said. With an even softer tone, he added, “Now, I shall turn around. Tell me when you are ready.”

William stood and turned around. It took longer than he expected before a light tap on his back informed him that Elizabeth was ready. When he turned, he found her clad only in his old shirt and her own stockings, and still trembling. The bonnet she had been wearing was obviously ruined by the rain— confirmed by where it lay crumpled on the floor, but it had kept her hair dry. Elizabeth had removed the pins, and her hair now hung down her back and over her shoulders.

In William’s eyes, she was still as beautiful as the last time he had seen her in Kent, and he struggled not to let her know that he was trembling, too—not from the cold, but from close proximity to the woman he loved. After bringing his feelings under good regulation, he picked her up and laid her upon the bed. Shrugging out of his coat, he gently placed it over her body and returned to the bag to locate the salve Mrs. Reynolds had created.

Sitting beside her on the bed, William explained as he worked, “I intend to fix the bandage properly this time.” After he had done so, he declared, “There! That should help to keep the wound from getting infected. Now we need to get you as warm as possible.”

Quickly making short work of peeling off her stockings, he realised her feet were as cold as ice. Subsequently, he massaged each until they felt warm. Afterwards, he took a deep breath before gently threading a pair of his old stockings over her feet and as far up each leg as he felt comfortable doing.

Once finished, he stood, murmuring shakily, “I-I shall hang all your things near the hearth to dry.” Fortuitously, whoever used the cabin before had threaded lines across the ceiling ostensibly for that purpose, and he had noticed them when he was lighting the fire.

Afterwards, he retrieved his coat from where it lay atop Elizabeth and wrapped it around her legs, tying the sleeves in an attempt to keep it in place. Removing his waistcoat, he had Elizabeth don it before lying down beside her and pulling his greatcoat over them both.

“Darling, turn towards me. I intend to embrace you as closely as possible so that the heat from my body will keep you warm.”

By that time, Elizabeth must have been resigned to her fate, for she offered no further resistance and soon melded into William’s body as though they were lovers. The trembling continued, however, until he rolled partially atop her, with her head coming to rest under his chin.

Concentrating on acting like a gentleman by silently reciting every poem he had memorised whilst at Cambridge, before long the rhythmic sound of Elizabeth’s breathing convinced him that she was asleep. Ceasing his recitals, he closed his eyes. Holding no expectation of sleep whilst holding the woman he loved in his arms, William hoped to rest what little he could.