“And mine,” Lady Anne said softly, “was born of compromise.”
Lady Catherine inclined her head. “Between the two of us, we have experienced rather varying beginnings to marriage. Which is why we wish to be clear.”
She looked at Elizabeth more directly. “It can be uncomfortable the first time,” she said plainly. “For some women, very much so. Much depends upon the regard a husband has for his wife—and her feelings toward him.”
“I love him,” Elizabeth said at once.
“We know,” Lady Catherine replied, not unkindly. “And that will make all the difference.”
Lady Anne stepped a little closer. “Even so, there may be moments when you are uncertain. Or have questions you do not wish to voice elsewhere.”
“You may come to either of us,” Lady Catherine said. “We shall be discreet.”
“We only wished you not to feel alone,” Lady Anne added, her voice gentle. “This ought to be a happy time. And you have had… so much upheaval. You must be missing your family dreadfully. Especially your sister.”
Jane.
The name alone was enough.
Elizabeth’s eyes filled before she could stop them.
She reached out, taking Lady Anne’s hand—and then, more hesitantly, Lady Catherine’s as well. “Thank you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “This is not what I expected… but I am truly grateful. More than I can say.”
For a moment, none of them spoke, then Lady Catherine cleared her throat rather abruptly. “Yes—well—there is no need for tears. We shall all look quite ridiculous if we continue.”
Elizabeth allowed her hands to return to her lap.
Lady Catherine gave a brisk nod. “Come, Anne. If we delay any longer, poor Darcy will begin to suspect that Elizabeth here has changed her mind.”
A watery laugh broke through the emotion, and Elizabeth brushed quickly at her eyes.
The door opened, and the maid returned at once, resuming her work as though nothing at all had passed. Lady Anne gave Elizabeth a warm, reassuring look before she and Lady Catherine withdrew.
Left alone once more, Elizabeth watched as her hair was finished—pins set, curls arranged with delicate care.
Her thoughts drifted.
To what lay ahead.
To the unknown.
To the quiet certainty beneath it all.
She would trust him.
She always had.
At last, the maid stepped back. “There you are, miss. All done.”
Elizabeth rose slowly and turned toward the looking-glass at the side of the bed. For a moment, she did not quite recognize herself.
She had never looked so—so finished. So composed. So… beautiful.
The color in her cheeks, the brightness in her eyes, the elegance of the gown and her hair—everything came together in a way she had never before seen.
She gave a small, almost disbelieving breath.
Perhaps…
