Page 162 of Near Pemberley

“Good.”

He looked surprised. “Good?”

“Yes.”

Her fingers rested lightly against his.

“Because I should not like to discover that you have returned to being impossible.”

A quiet laugh escaped him.

Then he kissed her again. And this time there was no hesitation.

Chapter XXXI

Mrs. Barnes found herself smiling as she walked towards the kitchens to see about the tea.

She had seen enough to understand that Miss Bennet was not merely a welcome visitor at Darcy House. A man like Mr. Darcy did not order flowers when a lady came visiting without reason. He did not concern himself with having a particular cake prepared, nor did he remember small details that most people would consider insignificant.

He had always been generous. That was known by everyone who served him. But this was different.

Then, Miss Bennet came the moment she heard he was injured. Not to inquire about the circumstances. Not to satisfy curiosity – to see that he was well.

Mrs. Barnes provided instructions for preparing the tea and ensured that something suitable for an injured gentleman was included.

She did not hurry. Neither did she delay – only a smidgeon.

Master Fitzwilliam had been carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders for too long. Perhaps, she thought, he might finally allow someone else to share it.

***

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Elizabeth looked at him, then at their joined hands, as though she needed the evidence before her to convince herself that this was not some strange dream from which she would soon awaken. “Is this really happening?”

Darcy’s expression softened. “What part of it?”

She smiled faintly. “I am not entirely certain.”

The answer made him laugh quietly. It was such an ordinary sound, and yet it moved her.

“I spent so long believing that happiness would always be something just beyond my reach,” she admitted. “And now I find myself sitting here, with you, wondering how it came to be so.”

Darcy raised her hand gently. “I have wondered the same.”

Elizabeth examined him. “You?”

“Yes.”

His answer pleased her.

Perhaps that was the greatest difference. He was still the same man – reserved, serious, and often far too determined to carry every burden alone. But now he was only a man who was as astonished by his happiness as she was.

She saw no distance between them. Only trust. Only affection.

A quiet knock sounded at the door.

Both looked towards it.