The walk across the park to Rosings was short, but Charlotte still keenly felt the absence of charity on Lady Catherine's part which had made it necessary. She was further chagrined by the absence of any offer to send the carriage to collect her, especially given her condition. She would have taken the gig, but it had been commandeered by one of her brothers that morning and she knew not when he might deign to return it. Besides, the walk had given her the opportunity to enjoy the fresh air for longer, and it also slightly delayed the interview, which she was sure would be both uncomfortable and unsatisfactory. However, allowing feelings of such a nature to show would doubtless be less than productive during the forthcoming hours and Charlotte schooled her face to the usual expressionless mask with which she chose to meet Lady Catherine on most occasions.

The consequence of her decision to walk, however, was that she was almost certainly going to be late. A secondary concern was that she was also unsuitably attired for the trip as, having been sequestered indoors for some days, she had not realised that the ground would be so wet. Her shoes and the hem of her black dress were showing evidence of her journey through the park, and she was feeling uncomfortably warm under the layers of fabric that comprised her widow's garb. Still, it remained satisfying to be outdoors, and she glanced around to make sure that she was unobserved before pushing back her veil and turning her face to the sun. She stood still for a moment and felt the heat and the slight breeze. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and composed her thoughts.

A noise nearby forced her eyes open with a start, spinning inelegantly she almost collided with a sturdy body whose arm shot out to steady her.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam, I thought myself alone in the park this morning, you catch me quite unawares," Charlotte stumbled slightly over her words as she attempted to wrench the uncooperative veil back into place, "I was suddenly short of breath from my walk and paused to collect myself."

"Please accept my apologies for startling you Mrs Collins," the Colonel replied, "I saw you from afar and was uncertain whether or not to approach you. My reticence seems to have resulted in my being more stealthy than I intended. Indeed, since my injury I was not aware that I had the ability to walk stealthily – I must truly be on the road to recovery if I managed to surprise you."

He seemed to suddenly realise that he was still holding her elbow, and dropped his hand quickly. He also realised that there were words to say that had yet to be stated, "I apologies again, Mrs Collins, my first words should have been to offer you my most sincere condolences on your very sad loss. Please allow me to insist that you avail yourself of any service of mine which might assist you, now or in days to come."

The offer was sincerely made, and Charlotte took it as such. The Colonel had always been a pleasant and kindly presence at Rosings, and she had occasionally caught a glimpse of a glimmer of amused camaraderie in his eyes directed her way when a particular folly of his aunt's had gone beyond the usually expected levels. He had also had the good grace to never show any such cognisance of any of her husband's similar imprudent conversational gambits. He had been, if not an ally, then at least the provider of a calm and sane alternative to the goings on at Rosings during his visits. Visits which had been too few over recent months, as he had been fully employed on the Continent, and then in convalescence.

"I go, as requested, to call upon your aunt, Colonel," Charlotte explained once she had tamed her veil and smoothed her skirts.

"And you walk? Mrs Collins, is that quite wise? The ground is not even and you could easily turn an ankle," the Colonel frowned in confusion, obviously also considering her other disabilities but reluctant to make any indelicate mention of them. He contented himself with saying, "surely my aunt could have sent her carriage."

Charlotte smiled at the genuine worry in his face, "Perhaps so, but the walk is not long, Colonel, and I believe that gentle exercise will be beneficial to my wellbeing. I thank you for your concerns though, they are greatly valued."

"Allow me at least to take your arm the remainder of the way Mrs Collins," he said, proffering the limb in question as he spoke, "we can then make the journey together. Although in truth, you may well be providing more support to me than I to you – my balance is not yet what it once was."

The Colonel's injury had been a severe one, sustained when a bridge had collapsed upon him and his men before the battle of Toulouse scarce two months before. He had been incapacitated for some time and had not been fit to return to England until a few weeks after the event. Now, as he had told her when they had last spoken at Rosings, the wound was healed, but the leg refused to co-operate as once it had done. He had expressed some frustration at missing serving at the end of the great wars that had been raging across Europe for so many years, but he had been mostly both sanguine and thankful that he had at least returned when so many had not.

The Colonel was always easy company, and even though their current conversation was constrained by the absence of vivacity that her widowhood demanded, they managed some commonplace and pleasant exchanges and Charlotte found the ensuing silences by no means uncomfortable. As they neared the house, the Colonel slowed his pace, and finally stopped, turning earnestly towards her.

"I do wish to repeat, Mrs Collins, that I feel the difficulty of your current situation most acutely, and you should know that, whatever the outcome of your interview with my aunt, I wish to stand as your friend and offer whatever assistance might be useful to you."

Charlotte smiled gently and gratefully up at him, replying, "I am more than obliged to you, Colonel, and assure you that I will not be reticent in asking should I feel that your offer may be helpful to me. Your kindness and friendship are greatly valued."

"Your late husband was…" he faltered, obviously struggling for the right form of words, after a pause, he continued, "he was of great service to my aunt and I know that she feels his loss keenly."

Again, he seemed at a loss to follow on from this. Charlotte felt that there was something being left unsaid, but could glean no clue from his demeanour what this something might be. However, allowances should be made, she told herself. Making conversation with a recently widowed woman was not an easy art to perfect, and the Colonel, charming as ever though he was, was also quite visibly uncomfortable. She did not press the point, simply laying her hand on his arm again and allowing their progress to the house to recommence.