Chapter Fourteen #2
“No, it was more than that.” She stood up, leaving her needlework on the chair, and walked over to him.
She stopped just a step away, looking up into his face.
“You had a kind of stillness about you. A certainty. My brother has it too, but his was formed by habit, responsibility, and a consciousness of what was expected of him. Yours was built upon something else entirely. You knew exactly who you were, even when you had so little beyond your own principles.”
Elias looked down at her, his heart turning over at the absolute trust in her eyes. “I had little to lose then, Georgiana. It is easy to be certain when one has but oneself to risk.”
“And now?” she asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
He reached out, tracing the line of her jaw with infinite gentleness. “Now,” he said, his voice rough with emotion, “I have everything to lose. I do not pass a day without fearing that I may prove unworthy of it.”
“You could never fail,” Georgiana Bennet said fiercely, stepping into his arms.
He held her tightly, burying his face in the soft, fragrant curve of her neck. The scent of lavender and clean linen surrounded him, grounding him in the absolute reality of his happiness. He closed his eyes, letting the warmth of her seep into his bones.
“I love you, my dear,” Elias whispered against her skin. “More than I ever thought it possible to love anyone.”
“I know,” Georgiana answered, her arms wrapping securely around his waist. “And I love you, my dear. From the moment Mr. Fletcher placed that ridiculous basket of apples in my hands, I think I knew.”
Elias pulled back just enough to look at her, a slow, teasing smile breaking through the emotion in his eyes.
“I shall have to write to my father and inform him that the true secret to making one’s way into a lady’s affections is neither poetry, nor wealth, nor fine manners, but a moderate selection of seasonal fruit. ”
Georgiana laughed, a clear, beautiful sound that seemed to chase away the last shadows in the room. “You must not tell him that. He will insist upon sending apples to every unmarried lady in Hertfordshire on Laurence’s behalf.”
“Laurence would probably eat them all before they reached the ladies.”
They laughed together, the sound mingling and rising toward the high ceiling. It was the laughter of two people who were entirely at ease with one another, who found joy in the quiet certainty of belonging to one another.
Presently, the heavy oak door of the sitting room opened, and Fitzwilliam Darcy stepped inside.
He paused, taking in the sight of his sister and his brother-in-law standing by the fire, in such evident absorption with one another that his entrance seemed almost an interruption of something complete in itself.
A faint, knowing smile touched the corners of Darcy’s mouth.
“I beg pardon for the intrusion,” Darcy said, his voice carrying its usual quiet authority, though entirely devoid of its former severity.
“But Anne has sent me to inform you that tea is served in the drawing room, and she absolutely refuses to let Mrs. Reynolds pour until you both present yourselves.”
Elias stepped back from Georgiana, though he kept her hand securely in his own. “We are coming, Fitzwilliam. We were merely... reviewing the accounts.”
Darcy’s eyebrows rose slightly. “The accounts? At this hour?”
“A different sort of account,” Georgiana said, her eyes shining as she looked up at her husband. “An account of a more grateful sort, I believe.”
Darcy looked from his sister to Elias, the affection in his gaze entirely unguarded. Over the past year, the master of Pemberley had come to rely upon Elias Bennet not merely as an administrator, but as a friend and an equal. “And how does the balance stand, Elias?”
Elias looked down at Georgiana, his thumb brushing against her knuckles, before meeting Darcy’s eyes. “The account stands more in my favour than I can well express, Fitzwilliam.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Darcy said softly. “Do not keep Anne waiting too long. You know how she feels about cold tea.”
With a slight nod, Mr. Darcy turned and left the room, leaving the door ajar behind him. From down the hall, the faint, cheerful sound of Anne’s voice could be heard, directing a servant.
Elias turned back to his wife. “We should go, my love.”
“We should,” Georgiana agreed, though she made no move toward the door.
Elias smiled, understanding her perfectly. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a long, tender kiss against her fingers. “One moment more,” he murmured.
“Just one,” she whispered.
They stood together in the quiet warmth of the firelight, holding the perfection of the present moment before stepping out into the wider, welcoming embrace of their family.
The business of former days was at rest, the past was settled, and when at last they turned toward the drawing room, it was with the quiet assurance that what had once seemed scarcely to be hoped was now become the common happiness of every day.
THE END