Fitzwilliam turned away sharply, one hand rising to press against his forehead. When he spoke, his tone carried the weight of self-recrimination.
“How could I have been so blind? So thoughtless?” The words seemed directed more to himself than to her. “I spent weeks believing you regretted our union, mourning the distance between us, when all along the fault lay with me. With my assumption that my decisions naturally encompassed both of us without requiring your consent.”
“You could not have known it would upset me so.”
“I should have known. You told me about the gentleman who treated your intelligence as a defect rather than a virtue. And then I proceeded to demonstrate that I valued your opinions no more than he did by making major decisions without even the courtesy of consultation.”
“That was not your intent.”
“Intent matters less than impact. I hurt you through carelessness.”
Elizabeth watched emotions cascade across his features. She had expected a mild apology. What crossed his face instead — the depth of it, the genuine self-reproach — caught her unprepared.
“I am profoundly sorry,” he murmured. “Your opinion matters to me. I gave no sign of that today, and I am sorry for it.”
The earnestness in his tone loosened any underlying objections she might have had. “I believe you.”
“You should not accept my word so readily. I have given you cause to doubt it. You are allowed to question whether my promises hold any weight beyond the moment they are spoken.”
She moved closer, drawn by the urge to shorten any distance between them. She was touched by the way he seemed genuinely devastated at having hurt her even unintentionally. “And now you have given me cause to trust it. You listened and understood. You did not make any excuses. That matters considerably.”
“What can I do to prove I mean what I say? To demonstrate that I truly wish for partnership instead of command?”
“You could begin,” she said, allowing a slight smile, “by including me in discussions of our future plans.”
“Of course.” He straightened, some of the tension leaving his frame. “We should speak of when to depart Matlock. I had thought perhaps next week, which would give us time to…” He stopped abruptly. “That is, would next week suit your preferences?”
The correction and visible effort to consult instead of decree, touched her more than flowery assurances could have. “Next week sounds reasonable.”
“And the route to Pemberley. The most direct path to Pemberley requires several days of travel with overnight stops at coaching inns, but if we take the northern route through, it is more comfortable and visually pleasing. Which route would you prefer?”
“Perhaps we might discuss the merits of each option together and decide jointly?”
“Yes. Jointly.” Relief transformed his features into a more improved state of hopeful.
This was what she had needed, not merely permission to voice opinions, but true inclusion in the shaping of their shared existence.
They stood close now, his attention focused on her with an intensity that made her pulse quicken. It made her conscious of the small space separating them, of how easily she could close that distance if she chose.
“I want you to be happy,” Fitzwilliam said softly. “Not merely content or resigned to circumstances you did not choose, but truly happy in our marriage. If that means making decisions together compared to unilaterally, then that is how we shall proceed. Always.”
“Always is a rather long time.”
“Then I shall have ample opportunity to prove my sincerity.” A hint of a smile played around his lips, the first hint of levity she had seen since entering the room. “You may hold me to account at every turn and question every decision. Demand consultation on matters both significant and trivial.”
“You may come to regret extending such invitation.”
“I doubt that very much.” His gaze dropped to her mouth, then away quickly. “Elizabeth…”
She recognised the shift in his tone, the way the air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken awareness. Her own breathing had grown shallow, her skin heated despite the study’s moderate temperature.
“Yes?”
“I am glad you came to find me and that you spoke honestly about what troubled you. I am glad you wish to remain with me.”
He swallowed visibly as he leaned forward, his intent in the closing distance between them. Elizabeth lifted her face, just as his mouth met hers in a kiss that started light but deepened quickly as she responded.
His hand came up to cup her jaw with exquisite gentleness, thumb brushing across her cheek whilst his other arm circled her waist.
