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O sborne paused by the open glazed door leading onto the west terrace.

Elizabeth was leaning against Darcy, her face raised to his, her whole demeanour open and trusting. Darcy’s expression was intense and passionate.

They seemed to be communicating without words, and Osborne once again was filled with gratitude that the two were wed and Elizabeth was happy. He was exceedingly glad he’d been able to overcome his prejudice against the name of Darcy before anything ill could befall Elizabeth.

Both his beloved Althea and Lady Anne would have been delighted beyond measure at the happiness of their children, and the love between them.

He smiled mistily as children’s shouts echoed up from the lawns below. Now he could come to Pemberley without the pain of loss overwhelming him and enjoy watching his grandchildren grow.

But Elizabeth and Darcy had moved apart, and she extended her hand to him.

“Good afternoon, Father. Did the children disturb your rest?”

“Not at all, Elizabeth.” Osborne turned to Darcy, and nodded at him.

“Darcy.”

“I hope you are rested, sir. I believe your young namesake wishes to challenge you to a game of chess after tea.”

Osborne laughed. “I am honoured you named him after me. He is full young for the game, but a more intelligent and lively boy I could not imagine.”

Elizabeth smiled. “How could any of them not be? Look at their father, and you, and all those we have lost, who must be looking down with pride.”

“And you.” Osborne reached out, knowing his hand was trembling. “We could so easily have lost you, had you and William not known, somehow, what to do at that terrible time.”

She leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “It is forgotten. Sir Charles learned his lesson, and the other three were easier. Come, try not to think of it, but rather that your generosity has given William and me happiness beyond compare.”

She glanced up at her husband, whose gaze, loving and protective, lingered on her alone.