Despite having managed his life to the extent that he was not often forced into society he did not enjoy, Darcy still preferred this last quiet hour of the day above all. Sequestered in his study, but with the door left open - a tiny concession to the fact that he was now married, and rather liked the occasions his wife and sister took to disturb his sanctuary or even to join him for conversation - he nursed a brandy and listened to the crackle of the fire in the fireplace as he reflected on the day.

It is good to see Georgiana happy again.

He grimaced, because he had been the last person to suggest that Georgiana was in any way unhappy before. There had been the Wickham business, of course, but after that, when life settled down once more to some kind of normal, Georgiana had resumed her music and been her cheerful, happy self once more. It had been Elizabeth who suggested there was something wrong: which suggestion he had indulged only insofar as it came from his perceptive, sympathetic wife. He did not credit it with having very much foundation in reality. Lizzy had not known Georgiana before, after all. She was surely basing her conclusions on Georgiana's behaviour in contrast to her own. Or, worse, in contrast to her sisters. Darcy's took another sip of his drink, choking a little as he compared his own sister with Catherine or Lydia. Yes, compared to either of those Georgiana might indeed seem prone to low-spirits. But she was not unlike Jane or Mary was she? She was happy. She had been happy…

And yet, the Georgiana who had prattled excitedly at the dining table that evening had been as unlike the Georgiana of a week ago as any, and he was forced to acknowledge that perhaps, in this, his wife had been correct.

There was a knock at his door, and he glanced up, unsurprised to see Elizabeth standing there. She seemed uncannily aware of the turn his thoughts took at any moment of the day, promptly appearing as if his thinking of her had called her to him.

"Good evening, husband!" she declared, stepping lightly over the threshold and into the room. She paused by the fire, holding her hands out to it to warm them, and eyed him suspiciously. "Am I interrupting?"

"When could you ever interrupt me?" Darcy replied, taking a sip of his drink.

Lizzy laughed and danced over to the seat opposite him, folding herself into it and reaching for his glass. She lifted it to her lips but did not drink, instead pulling a face and passing it back to him.

"I do not understand the attraction of liquor."

"Which circumstance is a happy one." Darcy took the glass back and drained it, setting it carefully down on the table between them. He slid his hand over to hers and smoothed the back of her thumb. "Would you like tea? I suppose I can summon some."

"No, do not put the servants to any trouble now," Lizzy said, easily. She stifled a yawn. "I shall be retiring soon, anyway, I merely came to see if you were well."

Darcy considered this for a moment before looking up into his wife's sparkling eyes, the eyes that had first won his heart what felt like an eternity ago.

"You did not," he replied, with a morose sigh. "You came to gloat."

"Gloat?" Lizzy's eyebrows lifted. "Over what?"

"You are quite right, of course. There, you must be content, now, and do not make me miserable in rejoicing over it."

Lizzy laughed.

"Well, I shall take the compliment, when it is bestowed so very graciously. But, pray tell, what am I right about on this particular occasion?"

"Georgiana."

It cost Darcy a great deal to acknowledge that someone else knew his sister better than he did, and had he been forced to defer to anyone other than his own wife he quite likely would not have done so.

"What about her?"

Lizzy was not prompting for more compliments. She genuinely desired to know what direction Darcy's thoughts had taken, and he acknowledged that it would do him good to speak them aloud.

"You think she cares for this Lambert fellow."

"I think?"

"Very well, I think it too." Darcy's words were little more than a growl. "I suppose she might have made a worse choice." He did not say she did make a worse choice once before, but the sentiment was clear. Lizzy shivered as if a cold breeze had found its way to her neck, but Darcy knew that this was merely a reaction to the unmentioned history between Georgiana and Mr Wickham, whose interference had, conversely, been the very thing that forced Darcy to acknowledge just how deeply he cared for Elizabeth in the first place. His eyes fluttered closed. He would not credit George Wickham with a hand in anything so sacred as his marriage.

"He cares for her, that much is evident," Darcy continued, straightening and pouring himself another measure of brandy, which action he was often compelled to take when assailed by thoughts of George Wickham.

"Is that not enough?" Lizzy's voice was gentle, but with a sharp undercurrent. He knew she feared that he would let his pride cloud his judgment of their new curate as it had once clouded his judgment of her. Darcy frowned. Would she never fully appreciate just how much he had changed? If I must still convince her, even after all this time…

He drank down the last of his draught and pushed his glass out of reach, turning, clear-headed, to his wife and taking her hand in both of his.

"You think I am still too proud to consider a humble clergyman a suitable prospect for my sister."

"That is not what I said." Elizabeth squirmed, evidently uncomfortable at having her motives so clearly understood.

"You did not need to say it, dearest. You forget, however well you esteem to know me, I am at least almost as well-acquainted with you." His eyes twinkled. "We have known each other a little while, after all, and have seen many sides to one another's characters. We are not strangers."

"No," Lizzy conceded, with a nervous smile. "But Mr Lambert…"

"Mr Lambert is a gentleman," Darcy acknowledged. "I recognise the name. I know the family." He frowned. "There was some tragedy concerning the elder brother. But regardless: he is a good man, and he has clearly already lost his heart to Georgiana within only a few hours of meeting her." His lips quirked into a smile. "I could not help but feel some sympathy for the poor man at Georgiana's first scathing reception of him at dinner. Recall, he is not the only gentleman to make a poor first impression on the young lady he loves."

Lizzy's smile grew, then, and she leaned forwards, spontaneously dropping a kiss on Darcy's smiling lips.

"Then you approve?"

"I approve," Darcy said, with a sigh. "Although I cannot confess to being delighted. I do not despair of them making a happy match but I would be foolish not to wish for a little wealth on his side."

"Is Georgiana not wealthy enough for them both?"

This was an argument that had no counter, and Darcy shrugged, acknowledging its truth without the need of words.

"And you cannot tell me you will mind her living so close to Pemberley. Imagine if she fell in love with a gentleman who resided at the opposite end of the country!"

This was too much, and Darcy laughed, leaning back in his chair and stretching.

"You would have them married by Epiphany, I suppose?"

Lizzy said nothing but smiled at him before bidding him goodnight and retreating to bed.