They went to the library, and Harriet's chair was indeed exactly where she had left it, positioned by the tall windows with a view of the gardens. She settled into it with a contented sigh.
"Perfect," she said. "Everything is perfect."
Sebastian sat in the chair across from her, his chair, though he would never admit to the territorial impulse, and observed her. She looked settled. Comfortable. At home in a way she hadn't been when they first arrived.
"I should unpack," she said eventually, though she made no move to leave.
"Should you?"
"Probably." A pause. "But I find myself reluctant to move. This chair is very comfortable."
"It is indeed."
"Perhaps I'll just sit here for a while longer."
"An excellent plan."
They sat in companionable silence, the afternoon light fading around them, and Sebastian thought that he could spend the rest of his life like this, quiet moments in familiar rooms, with the woman he loved within arm's reach.
Eventually, Harriet stirred.
"We should go upstairs," she said. "Make the rooms properly ours."
"The rooms?"
"Our rooms. The bedroom, the dressing rooms." She met his eyes, something uncertain in her expression. "I thought... if you were agreeable... we might rearrange things. Make it truly shared, rather than your space with me in it."
"I would like that very much."
Her smile was brilliant. "Then come on. We have work to do."
They spent the rest of the afternoon transforming the master suite. Harriet had strong opinions about everything from the placement of the bed to the colour of the curtains to the arrangement of books on the shelves. Sebastian found himself surrendering to her vision, not because he didn't care, but because watching her claim the space filled him with a joy he couldn't quite articulate.
By the time the light began to fade, the room was transformed. Her dresses hung beside his coats in the wardrobe. Her books filled the shelves alongside his. Her brushes and combs sat on the vanity, her writing desk had been positioned bythe window, and her favourite shawl was draped over the chair by the fire.
It was no longer his room. It was theirs.
"Better," Harriet declared, surveying their work.
"Better," Sebastian agreed.
They stood together in the gathering dusk, looking at the room they had created, and Sebastian thought:This is happiness. This is what it feels like. Not a thunderclap of joy, but a slow accumulation of small moments. Not a transformation from grey to colour, but the gradual brightening of a world I thought would always be dim.
He took Harriet's hand, and she leaned into him, and outside the window, the first drops of rain began to fall.
"Welcome home," he said quietly.
"Welcome home," she echoed.
And it was.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
That night, they lay together in their newly arranged bed, listening to the rain against the windows.
"I keep waiting to wake up," Harriet admitted quietly. "To find out this was all a dream."
"So do I."
