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“I have promised to visit.”

Darcy looked at his father-in-law. “I shall see that the book is packed.”

“Already taking Papa’s side?” Elizabeth asked.

“In this matter.”

She smiled at him across the table. “Then I must be more persuasive before spring.”

He had no doubt she would attempt it.

The long happy day ended by degrees. Jane retired with Charles, her son having determined that the hour was late enough. Mrs. Bennet offered one last piece of advice. Mr. Bennet kissed his daughter and kept her hand for a moment before letting her go. Fitzwilliam had the kindness to find something which required Lydia and Kitty’s attention while Darcy accompanied his wife upstairs.

At the door of her room, Elizabeth turned toward him.

“I shall not be long.”

“I shall wait.”

Her fingers touched his wrist. The look she gave him made the promise more difficult to keep than he wished her to know.

When he came to her later, Sally had gone and the room was quiet. A fire burned steadily. Elizabeth stood beside the dressing table with her hair loose upon her shoulders and a light wrapper drawn about her nightdress.

Darcy closed the door.

She smiled, but there was a shyness in it which moved him as much as her earlier assurance. He went to her and took her hands.

“Are you tired?”

“A little.”

“We need not—”

“Fitzwilliam.”

He stopped. She had used his name softly, with no impatience except the faintest amusement at his readiness to make a difficulty of attending to her.

“I am not so tired that I wish you to go away.”

“I had no wish to go.”

“Then we are agreed.”

She lifted her face to him. He kissed her gently at first, giving her time to move nearer or draw back. Her hands settled against his chest, then slipped up around his neck. He felt the warmth of her through the thin layers between them and drew her close with a care which ceased to resemble hesitation.

Her hair caught beneath his fingers. He eased it free, and she laughed against his mouth.

“I have spent half the day allowing people to arrange it. You may spoil it now.”

“I should rather admire it.”

“You may do both.”

He kissed her again, slower, until the laughter quieted and she held him more firmly. When he lifted his head, her eyes were upon him. The invitation in them left him no need to guess.

He loosened the ribbon at her waist. Elizabeth let the wrapper fall from her shoulders into his hands, then took it from him and laid it across the chair beside the dressing table.

“There,” she whispered. “One thing properly put away.”