“Oh, she did,” Elizabeth said. “She said something about you ‘mooning about.’”
“I do not moon,” Darcy said with as much dignity as he could muster, which wasn’t much considering Elizabeth was still perched on his chair and looking insufferably pleased with herself.
“Of course not,” Elizabeth said.
“I’m never living this down, am I?”
“Not a chance.” Elizabeth leaned down to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. “But I’m rather fond of your mooning about, as it happens.”
Darcy found himself laughing, the sound rich and unguarded. “Come here,” he said, tugging her into his lap.
Elizabeth came willingly, curling against his chest with a contented sigh. “This is nice,” she murmured against his throat.
“It is,” Darcy agreed, wrapping his arms around her and thinking that perhaps Christmas wishes did come true after all, even when you were too afraid to say them aloud.
Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth woke to an idea for the ending that disappeared before she could jot down notes.
She looked around. Where was she? Oh, right. Pemberley.
The winter light streamed through the tall windows. The house was quiet except for the gentle sounds of morning. She stretched beneath the ridiculously high thread-count sheets and allowed herself a moment of pure optimism. Today would be different. Last night they had kissed into the late evening, and she felt reassured. Today, she and Darcy would finally have a conversation about the presents, clear the air, and perhaps figure out what was happening between them.
She changed out of her pyjamas and stopped in the doorway of the small sitting room downstairs.
Darcy was curled into one corner of the sofa, his long legs up on an ottoman, hands cradling a steaming mug. Around his neck was her scarf, the blue-grey wool looking impossibly soft against the navy blue of his jumper. Georgiana sat cross-legged on the hearth rug, her dark hair falling in waves down her back, writing in her manuscript book and stifling a yawn.
This was what belonging looked like. This was what home felt like.
“Happy Christmas, Lizzy,” Georgiana called, glancing up with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”
“Happy Christmas to you. Yes, too well, maybe,” Elizabeth admitted, settling into the armchair opposite Darcy. “I am rather surprised to see you up so early, Georgiana.”
Darcy looked up at her over his mug, and she caught his smug little smile.
She couldn’t help but smile back.
“I know,” Georgiana said, sounding surprised. “I had an idea for a song and couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“Coffee’s fresh,” Darcy said, nodding toward the side table where a carafe and a second mug waited. “Maggie somehow heard Georgie was up and started breakfast. She’s in there now, muttering about Christmas breakfast and ‘proper timing.’”
Elizabeth poured herself a cup of coffee and sipped. She immediately felt more human. “Should we be concerned?”
“Undoubtedly,” Georgiana said. “But it’s Christmas morning and nothing is going to spoil today.” She bounced to her feet with the energy of a young woman who still believed the universe generally arranged itself for her benefit. “Shall we do the exchange now? Everything’s ready in the drawing room.”
“I thought we'dhadthe exchange,” Elizabeth said, confused.
Darcy’s mouth quirked upward. “So did I, but Georgie seems to have been planning a surprise.”
“And it worked,” Georgiana said. “So just be pleased someone thinks you deserve presents.”
She trotted out before them.
Elizabeth crossed to him. The scarf sat a little crooked over his jumper; she took the ends and neatened the knot, smoothing it flat against his chest.He tipped his head without being asked. She kissed his forehead and patted the settled knit. “Better,” she said. He caught her hand for a second longer than necessary, then let it go.
He stood. “Georgiana loves giving presents. I always try to get her not to spend her money on me, but this year she had another person to buy for, which has made her happy.”
Soon enough, Elizabeth found herself installed on the drawing room sofa, watching Georgiana arrange beautifully wrapped packages.
