Her hair began to loosen, soft strands falling against her neck and shoulders.
Neither spoke.
There was something intimate in the quiet, in the small, shared task.
Elizabeth’s breath caught—just slightly—when she felt his hand brush lightly against her skin.
Then—
A warmth at the back of her neck.
A kiss.
Soft.
Unhurried.
She stilled completely.
Another pin slipped from his fingers, forgotten.
“Darcy…” she began, though she did not know what she meant to say.
He did not answer.
Only leaned closer.
Her pulse quickened.
The room seemed to grow very still.
The last of the pins fell away unnoticed, her hair now free around her shoulders.
And as his hand came gently to rest at her shoulder, drawing her back toward him, Elizabeth felt the last of her thoughts begin to scatter.
There was no fear.
No uncertainty.
Onlythem.
And her final, fleeting thought—before everything gave way—
was that she was exactly where she belonged.
Chapter 35
The next days passed as though they existed outside of time.
Elizabeth would later struggle to mark them by anything so ordinary as hours or meals. They blurred together into something softer, warmer—a quiet, blissful retreat from the world that had so recently threatened to overwhelm her.
They rose late, if they rose at all.
No one disturbed them. Trays appeared discreetly at the door and vanished again just as quietly. The house seemed to understand, to conspire in granting them privacy.
At first, Elizabeth had wondered if she would feel awkward—so entirely alone with him, with no sister nearby, no chaperone, no familiar boundary to guide her behavior.
But she did not.
