It is a truth universally known, but much less talked of, that a marriage of love is a rare thing indeed. Status marries status. Fortune marries fortune-it's good business. If one is lucky, some affection may flourish, but love; passion? Who ever heard of such a ridiculous notion?

"Miss, please be careful. It's frightfully windy today, and your mother will be extremely displeased if something should happen to you. We really should return."

"I don't see why mother always insists that you accompany me on my walks, Harriet. It is most inconvenient."

"Someone has to keep you out of mischief, miss," Harriet replied, raising an eyebrow.

Rosalie could perhaps be seen as a little reckless, but weren't all young, unmarried women? Enjoying the freedoms youth had to offer before life became dull and mundane. She knew what to expect once she became a wife. Her parents were a prime example of what one sacrifices for wealth and status.

Reaching the top of a large outcrop of rocks, Rosalie stared out over the vast forest before her-her dress billowing in the breeze. It was at its most beautiful that time of year. All rich oranges, reds and yellows-could anything be more alluring?!

From her perch, she observed a good thick layer of leaves covering the ground-perfect!

Harriet held her breath as Miss Rosalie clambered back down the jagged rocks and ran much too fast down the hillside. Harriet shook her head, her poor nerves fraying. If the miss kept up with that silliness, she would never find a husband.

Upon reaching the forest floor, Rosalie picked up a handful of leaves and threw them up into the air-giggling and smiling like a silly child. Harriet watched on, frowning, as she calmly and sensibly made her way to the base of the steep slope.

Then just when Harriet thought it couldn't get any worse; the young miss lifted her skirts and started dancing in circles. She sloshed them about her knees, revealing her slim ankles.

"Miss! That is very unladylike behaviour. What if someone were to see?"

"Oh, Harriet, why must you always be so humdrum? There's not a soul in sight." Rosalie ignored Harriet and carried on dancing about, laughing.

Suddenly, to Rosalie's horror, a large equine beast reared up on its hind legs very close to where she stood. She stumbled backwards, her foot becoming wedged in a crooked tree root. Pain surged up her leg as her derriere hit the cold, damp earth.

Harriet's heart almost lurched from her chest at the shock of it all. Unsure of what to do, she stood there-stock-still as a strange man hopped down off the horse that had scared them both half to death.

"Good lord, are you ok? What in god's name are you doing out here in this foul weather, foolish girl?" a deep authorial voice boomed from above.

As Rosalie clutched her throbbing ankle, agitation from the pain and the stranger's rude behaviour bubbled from within. She readied herself to scold him, but as soon as she looked up into his large brown eyes, her words fell from her lips. Oh my, he was a very handsome man!

His demeanour softened as her annoyed countenance turned to shock, then embarrassment. She flinched in pain and he rushed to her side, gathering her up into his strong and competent arms. A blush creeped up her delicate features and he gently sat her on a fallen log so he could better examine her injury.

"Forgive my rudeness, shall we start over?"

Rosalie nodded in reply. As Harriet's heartbeat returned to normal, she watched on in amusement. She has never witnessed Miss Rosalie at a loss for words before. He looked to be an agreeable gentleman, so she allowed his proximity to the young miss. And he was, after all, tending to her injury.

"I'm going to check your ankle, but I'll try to be gentle."

Rosalie nodded once more, unable to take her eyes off a rogue dark curl that had fallen across his forehead. Then his fingers softly touched her foot and butterflies burst up into her middle. Until he pressed on the joint and a curse escaped her lips. Immediately, her hand flew to her mouth and Harriet almost expired at Rosalie's most impertinent behaviour.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to cause such unease, but you will not be able to walk on this for a week, at least." The well-dressed man informed her. "If you don't mind my asking, what on earth are you doing out here on a day like this?" Rosalie placed a hand atop her bonnet to hold it in place as a powerful gust of wind wound through the leafy forest floor.

At last, she found her voice to answer him. "I'm simply enjoying my freedom while I can."

"Humph!" Both the unknown gentleman and Rosalie looked up to witness Harriet rolling her eyes. A smile played on the man's lips.

"And what, pray tell, is bringing a conclusion to your freedom?"

"Why, my debut, of course. My first season in society. Come spring, my mother will have me married off to the first wealthy, landed gentry we meet, and before the season has barely begun, I'm sure of it."

"Surely not. A beauty like you will be the belle of the ball. Your dance card, I can imagine, will be quite full. And what, may I ask, do you have against marrying a wealthy, landed gentleman?" He smiled at Rosalie, making her blush once more.

"Pray, I have nothing against wealthy men, but the prospect of marriage itself. In all of my acquaintance, the only examples of matrimony I've seen have been very unpleasant."

"So you do not wish to marry?" he looked at her most amused.

"Of course I do. What would become of me otherwise? But I also want to be happy," she declared matter-of-factly.

"So you wish to marry for love?"

"Doesn't everyone?" she asked, surprised.

Still kneeling before her, he stared into her piercing blue eyes and an unfamiliar warmth spread through them both. Only to be interrupted by another gentleman arriving on horseback.

"Darcy, there you are. I thought you had ridden off without me. I was only but a moment behind that tree and then you were gone."

"I knew you would catch up, Bingley. I was just letting Titan have a blaze through the forest when, unfortunately, he scared Miss-" He turned back towards the beautiful young lady.

"Miss Rosalie Rutherford, Sir, and this is my companion, Miss Harriet," she said, looking behind her towards Harriet, who was quietly watching the dramatic scene before her.

"Yes, Miss Rosalie, here half to death, before she stumbled and twisted her ankle."

"Oh my goodness, are you hurt badly, Miss Rosalie? What can we do to help?" Bingley said in a rush.

"I am feeling a little chill. Perhaps it would be best if I returned home." Rosalie crossed her arms tightly around her middle.

"But of course, of course. Darcy, you must take her at once and I will bring Miss Harriet."

"I would be very much obliged, sir." Harriet batted her eyelashes at the newest handsome stranger.

With ease, Darcy lifted Rosalie onto his horse, then mounted himself. Her waist tingled where his hands touched her only a moment before. She had never been this close to another man who wasn't a close relative. Darcy picked up the reins and motioned for Titan to move. Rosalie was jolted back into Darcy's embrace and there she remained for the entire ride home.

Darcy was not unaware of the effect Miss Rosalie's proximity was having on him. Her warm, sweet-smelling body pressed securely against his. With the position of her sitting with both legs to one side, he had a lovely vantage point of her slender neck, curving down under her collar. This was a first for him, too. He usually kept his distance from unfamiliar people, so having a strange female wrapped in his arms was a very new and interesting sensation. And not unwelcome in the least.

The ride to the Rutherford home was quiet-both Rosalie and Darcy lost in their own thoughts. Harriet continued to observe from her vantage point on Mr Bingley's horse-where she, too, enjoyed the closeness of the handsome young man seated behind her. The young Miss Rosalie liked him, there was no doubt about that. Never in her life had Harriet seen her so shy and demure. It was most amusing.

Once they reached Rutherford house, Rosalie's father burst through the main entrance. "Darcy, what in the world brings you here? And with my daughter no less."

"Lord Rutherford, forgive my intrusion. It grieves me to say that my horse frightened poor Miss Rosalie in the forest earlier. She has twisted her ankle, which I take full responsibility for, and I will not rest until a physician has seen her."

"Thank you, Darcy. I am much indebted to you. Whatever you need, all you need do is ask," Lord Rutherford replied.

Rosalie's father helped her down off Titan and carried her inside, leaving Darcy suddenly chill. But a new purpose surfaced, and he continued to the nearest town to retrieve the local doctor.

Rosalie awaited the handsome Mr Darcy's return by the drawing-room window, much to Harriet's disapproval. Finally, he arrived back with the stuffy Dr Walden in tow. His gorgeous curled locks blowing about his most handsome features. He looked very proud and agreeable. Goosebumps spread from head to toe and a little shiver escaped her. She watched on in admiration as he stopped on the front steps to talk with his friend, Mr Bingley.

"Bingley, you had best go on without me. I want to stay until Miss Rosalie has improved."

"Ah, say no more, Darcy." Bingley tried and failed at suppressing a smile. It had been too long since his friend had shown interest in anyone of the opposite sex. He was very aware Caroline would be most grievous about this latest development, but he respected Darcy too much to see him shackled to his snobbish sister.

"No doubt your guests are eagerly awaiting you at Netherfield. I will come when all is well here."

"You're a good man, Darcy. I'm grieved you will have to wait to visit my beautiful new home and we shall miss you greatly, but I understand."

"Yes, yes. Be off with you. And give my regards to your sisters and Mr Hurst."

"Farewell Darcy, and please inform Miss Rosalie of my sincerest wishes for a speedy recovery."

"Not too speedy, I hope." Darcy smiled cheekily at Bingley. "I wish you the safest of journeys to Hertfordshire."

After Darcy bid Bingley farewell, he turned on his heel and walked back into the grand house in search of a pair of fine eyes belonging to one Miss Rosalie Rutherford.