"It does." She leaned her head against his shoulder. "Take me home, Sebastian."
***
The journey back to Thornwood Park took three days, just as the journey out had done.
But everything was different now.
They sat closer in the carriage, Harriet's hand in Sebastian's, their conversation ranging from the practical to the profound and back again. They laughed at the innkeepers who assumed they were newlyweds. They debated the merits of various routes. They planned renovations for rooms that didn't needrenovating, simply for the pleasure of imagining their future together.
On the second night, at a posting inn somewhere in the countryside, the innkeeper apologised profusely for only having one room available.
"That will be fine," Sebastian said, and delighted in the lack of surprise on Harriet's face.
"Newlyweds?" the innkeeper asked, his expression knowing.
"Something like that," Harriet replied, and the smile she gave Sebastian made his heart turn over in his chest.
They talked late into the night, lying in the narrow inn bed, their voices low so as not to disturb other guests. Sebastian learned that Harriet was afraid of thunderstorms and had been since childhood. Harriet learned that Sebastian still had nightmares about his mother's disappointment, even though she had been deceased for years.
They shared secrets and fears and hopes, the intimate confessions that only happened in darkness, when the world felt small and safe.
By the time they reached Thornwood, Sebastian felt he knew Harriet better than he had ever known anyone.
And somehow, miraculously, she seemed to know him too.
***
Thornwood Park rose from the landscape on a grey afternoon, the sky threatening rain but never quite delivering.
Sebastian watched through the carriage window as the familiar shape appeared, the stone facade, the tall windows, and the grounds he had walked a thousand times. It looked the same as it always had. But it felt different now.
It felt like home.
"There it is," Harriet said quietly. "Our home."
"Our home," Sebastian repeated. "I like the sound of that."
"So do I."
The servants lined up to greet them, and Sebastian watched their faces as they took in the change, the way he and Harriet stood close together, the way she smiled at him without any of her usual guardedness. Mrs. Crawford, the formidable cook, actually smiled. The housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.
"Welcome home, my lord, my lady," Mrs. Crawford said. "We're glad to have you back."
"We're glad to be back," Harriet replied, and Sebastian could hear the truth in her voice.
They went inside, and Sebastian watched Harriet move through the familiar rooms with new eyes. She was seeing it differently now, he realised. Not as a temporary refuge or a necessary sacrifice, but as her home. Her place.
Their place.
"The library first," she declared. "I need to check on my chair."
"Your chair is where you left it."
"You can't know that for certain. Someone might have moved it."
"No one would dare."
"You'd be surprised. Servants get ideas."
