a bird—no, a bat—heading towards the window. She closed it quickly, leaving the bat to hover outside. As she looked at it she was seized with a strange feeling. She thought how lonely it must feel, being shut out, being a part and yet not a part of the warmth and light within.
Then the bat turned and flew away and the moment was broken, and she went back to the other side of the room, warming herself by the fire.
There was still no sign of Darcy.
She returned to her own room, and to her astonishment, she found him standing on the hearthrug. She had not heard his footsteps in the corridor, but her surprise quickly gave way to a sense of anticipation. He had come to her after all. She went closer and she felt the tension in him, as though he was trying to hold back some great force by sheer strength of will. She shivered, but not with cold. She could hear his shallow, uneven breathing, and he leaned towards her…
…and then she saw his hands clench as if he had fought an inner battle and emerged in some way victorious, but as if the victory had brought him no pleasure and had cost him dear. He kissed her gently on the cheek, the faintest brush of his lips, and said, ‘Good night, Elizabeth,’ Then, going into his own room, he shut the door.
She could still feel the warmth of his lips on her skin, and she raised her hand to them in an effort to hold the feeling. But gradually it faded, until there was nothing left of it.
She shivered, and looking round, she noticed that the window in her room too was open. She went to shut it, then she climbed into bed. She lay awake for a long time before she at last she fell asleep.
The morning sunlight streaming through a crack in the shutters woke her. She was confused for a moment, not recognising the room, then she remembered that she was in the Alps and she jumped out of bed. She threw back the shutters to see that the sky was a startling blue and that the mountains were rising majestically against it.
Her eyes wandered downwards, to the meadows and wildflowers that surrounded the taverna, and then to the still and placid lake. When she looked more closely, she could see that someone was swimming there. Her heart leapt as she saw that it was Darcy. She longed to join him, and although she thought, to begin with, that she could not possibly do any such thing, she soon changed her mind and thought, Why not?
She slipped into a chemise and gown, then picked up a towel and went softly downstairs. There were the usual early morning sounds coming from the back of the taverna, the sizzle of cooking and the thunk of wood being chopped, but in the front of the taverna it was silent. It was still very early and the other guests were in bed.
Elizabeth slipped outside unnoticed and felt the crispness of the air, then she felt the warming of the sun as she stepped out of the shadow and began to run across the meadow. As she sped over the carpet of wildflowers she crushed them beneath her feet, releasing their scent. It rose in a cloud around her, sweet and heady. At last she came to a stop, breathless but exhilarated, by the side of the lake. It was the deepest blue she had ever seen and as smooth as glass. It reflected the mountains and the tall pine trees that surrounded it without so much as a ripple to break the surface.
She set her towel down by the side of the water and then dipped a toe into the lake. It was very cold, but by and by, her foot became used to it and she began to find it refreshing. She put her foot further into the water, first her ankle and then her calf, and then she was seized with a sudden longing to be swimming. She unhooked her dress and pulled it over her head and was about to slip into the lake in her chemise when Mrs Cedarbrook’s words came back to her: tempt him. She hesitated for a moment, but there was no one about, nor was there likely to be so early in the morning, so she slipped out of her chemise as well and slid into the water.