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As she did every evening, Jane sat beside her nieces, reading softly until their eyes fluttered shut in peaceful sleep.

Once they were tucked in securely, she kissed each of them gently on the forehead.

Clara and Matilda had become such a vital part of her life—more than charges or relations, they were her heart's quiet purpose.

All she wished was to shield them from sadness and surround them with affection strong enough to ease every wound their young lives had known.

After leaving the girls' room, Jane made her way to her husband's study.

A servant had mentioned he was there, and she was eager for a few quiet moments with him.

Each day, she found herself enjoying his company more and more, feeling comforted by his calm presence, trusting in his intelligence, and unafraid to speak openly in his presence.

Inside the study, Andrew sat near the fire, a brandy in hand and his thoughts—as they often were—on his wife.

After years of loneliness and restlessness, he had found not just a partner but a home.

In Jane, he had someone who met his silences with understanding and his burdens with grace.

"Andrew?" Jane stood in the doorway, her voice gentle.

"If I am not disturbing you, I would like to speak with you before going to bed.

" He set down his glass and stood with a warm smile.

"Of course, my dear. Come sit by the fire with me.

" They settled into two armchairs, the fire crackling softly between them.

Jane hesitated only a moment before sharing the news.

"Beatrice and Countess Matlock have a plan to assist me.

I know you are not fond of such social engagements, but I promise you will not be dragged into too many.

" Andrew chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting.

"I daresay now that I am married, such events will be far more tolerable.

I can finally enjoy conversation with gentlemen without fearing they will introduce me to their daughters.

" Jane laughed lightly. "Well then, I am glad to be of service.

" She grew more serious, her voice softening.

"Andrew, I want you to know that I am doing this for Lizzy.

I want her to have the opportunity to meet someone who will truly appreciate her—someone who will see how remarkable she is and offer her a real home.

Once that is accomplished, I wish to turn all my attention to the girls—and to you.

" A faint blush rose on her cheeks as she finished speaking.

Andrew reached for her hand and kissed it tenderly.

"You cannot imagine how much I long to return to Parkland," he said.

"But I would rather remain here in London until Agnes is truly gone.

And as for Elizabeth—I am honoured to help her.

I know many respectable men seeking an honest and intelligent companion.

" "Thank you," Jane whispered. "It brings me so much joy to imagine her content.

" Andrew hesitated, then asked with uncharacteristic vulnerability, "Are you content, Jane?

Are you happy?" She met his gaze, the blush deepening on her cheeks.

"Yes," she said quietly. "I am very happy.

" Andrew's heart swelled with relief—and a nervous kind of joy.

He had never wanted to rush her, had never wanted to risk the easy, beautiful trust that had grown between them.

But now… "I shall speak with Darcy once Elizabeth returns to London.

Perhaps he, too, can help us, as the Countess has," Andrew said, regaining his composure.

"Now, I suppose we should retire. We did promise the girls a visit to the botanical garden tomorrow, and I suspect they will be up before the sun.

" "They were thrilled at the thought of so many flowers," Jane replied, smiling.

Andrew stood and offered his arm. He walked her to the door of her room, intending to say goodnight.

But instead, he paused, lifted her face gently in his hands, and kissed her.

It was a soft, tentative kiss—brief, at first. But when she responded, shy yet certain, he deepened it, letting his affection speak in the quiet way words never could.

After several long, tender moments, he drew back only enough to speak.

"Thank you," he murmured. "Thank you for letting me kiss you.

You are so beautiful, Jane, and I—" "Andrew," she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper, "I enjoy being with you.

And… I liked your kiss very much. I am glad it was you.

You were the first man to kiss me…" She trailed off, flustered and glowing.

Her words tumbled out half-formed, but Andrew understood.

"Will you come to my room, Jane?" he asked softly.

The seconds before she answered felt like an eternity.

"I shall, my dear husband," she replied with a radiant smile.

He pulled her into an embrace, holding her close for several moments.

Then, with a quiet laugh, he lifted her into his arms, prompting a flurry of giggles.

Carrying her across the threshold, Andrew entered his room with his beloved wife in his arms, his heart full and his smile deep.

◆◆◆

"What do you think, Darcy?" "About what?

" "About what I just told you." Mr. Darcy sighed.

"Fitzwilliam, I have not the faintest idea.

Would you please explain yourself more clearly?

" He was growing impatient. After breakfast, he had hoped for a quiet stroll in the garden—ideally with the chance of encountering Elizabeth.

Instead, his cousin had been chattering incessantly, and Mr. Darcy had only half-listened as his gaze drifted toward the parsonage lane.

"Georgiana mentioned that Miss Bennet is considering moving in with her sister," the Colonel repeated.

"But she still wants to maintain a friendship with Georgie.

" Mr. Darcy turned to him, visibly startled.

"Why would Miss Bennet move in with her sister?

Which sister? She has a contract with me.

I can assure you, I shall not permit her to break it so lightly.

" Unbeknownst to them, Anne had also slipped into the garden.

She now sat tucked into her favourite hidden corner—a secluded bench surrounded by flowering shrubs, perfectly concealed from her mother.

As she listened with great interest to her cousins' conversation, she caught sight of Elizabeth approaching from a distance.

The moment Elizabeth overheard her own name, she, too, paused, slipping behind a tall hedge at the garden's edge.

Neither young woman could see the other, but both were now secret witnesses to the conversation.

'I do not recall ever having this much fun,'Anne thought gleefully.

"Jane Bennet's employer offered Elizabeth a position?

" Mr. Darcy asked, still trying to grasp the situation.

"What kind of position? I find it hard to believe she would willingly leave Georgiana.

She is very fond of her. And I—" he hesitated, catching himself, "—we treat her with respect.

I pay her an exceptional salary. Why would she even consider leaving?

" The Colonel raised an eyebrow, noting Mr. Darcy's slip:'Itreat her with respect, notwe—'.

"From what Georgie said before we were interrupted by Lady Catherine—and then Mrs. Collins joined the conversation—it seems Miss Bennet's sister misses her greatly and wants her close.

" "I know Jane Bennet works for a wealthy widow—likely the woman behind this.

Perhaps she thinks hiring Elizabeth would allow them to live together.

" Mr. Darcy shook his head. "But it will not work.

Elizabeth has a contract with our family.

I shall not permit her to leave so abruptly.

It would hurt Georgiana." The Colonel tilted his head sympathetically.

"Perhaps when you return to London, you could allow the sisters to visit one another now and then.

On Jane's days off, she might call at Darcy House.

That would be a reasonable compromise." Darcy stiffened.

"No. I shall not risk that." "Because of Bingley?

" "Yes. It would be a mistake for them to meet again.

" "Darcy," Fitzwilliam replied, half laughing, "Bingley is a grown man.

Surely, he can make his own decisions?" "He is far too trusting.

He believed himself in love with Miss Bennet once.

If he were to see her again, he might feel regret—or worse, guilt.

And in that frame of mind, he might act rashly.

He could throw himself into an attachment that would ruin them both.

No. I shall not allow it." Mr. Darcy's tone was final.

"You know my feelings on this. Let us not discuss it further.

" Behind the hedge, Elizabeth's heart clenched.

She had heard enough. Turning away, she fled the garden, her steps quickening until she was running back toward the parsonage, her cheeks wet with tears.

'Why does he always have the power to hurt me?

'she thought bitterly.'But it is finished.

I never want to see him again.' As the cousins finally made their way inside Rosings, Anne slipped out of her hiding place.

She did not return to her mother but instead went directly to her sitting room, a calculating smile playing on her lips.

'I shall not miss this opportunity,'she thought, her eyes gleaming.