Mr Willers seemed to know her feelings, and put his arms around her, and for a while, she cried quietly in his arms.
“The sentiments conveyed are very much to your credit,” she said, endeavouring to be cheerful.
“And to yours,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It is a very good letter,” he said slowly, clearly moved to emotion by it and trying to appear unaffected. “I am undoubtedly your inferior as to rank in society, my love, but I am relieved to know that the people who love you best are happy for us.”
“I choose to be unmoved by any words along the lines of ‘superior,’ ‘first circles,’ ‘spheres,’ and ‘ranks.’”
He smiled, and she saw in his eyes that he believed her. “Then we need not mention it again. I am sorry you left in June in such distress. I had no idea you looked at me as an object of regret.”
“I could not believe you felt anything for me in return, not if you were quitting me so easily.”
“Oh, it was not easy,” he murmured, pulling her in close. “It broke my heart, but it felt necessary, for both our sakes, because I was sure to forget myself again. I saw no path forward for us. The disparity of our situations felt too great.” His voice sounded so much lighter and joyful than before when he said, “I feel like I have drawn such a prize, Georgiana.”
“Are you now assured that we have every opportunity for happiness, so long as we are together?”
He kissed her again, deeply and thoroughly, as though wishing to make up for lost time.
The End
