Epilogue
Eden sat on a marble slab; knees pulled up to her chest as she stared out at the lake. The sun was about to rise, and she wanted to see it reflected on the water. Her husband came up behind her, sitting next to her. She turned to face him, and he smiled happily at her.
Here at Pemberley, Mr. Darcy was ever inclined to smile and be amused. At times, Eden found herself forgetting the stern, cold person she had met the year before. But then they would attend a gathering and he would appear for everyone except her. She had many women tell her that they wished their husbands would watch them with utter devotion in her eyes.
"And how are you today, my dear?"
"Very well," Eden said, a soft smile on her lips. "Only… I wish you would not call me my dear."
This surprised the man, and he tilted his head slightly.
"Why?"
"It's what my father always calls my mother when he's cross about something." He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers.
"Then pray tell, what endearments am I allowed."
"Anything but that?" He chuckled in agreement.
"And what shall I call you when I'm cross? Mrs. Darcy?"
"Oh no. You may only call me Mrs. Darcy when you are entirely and perfectly and incandescently happy."
Lightly, Mr. Darcy placed his hands around her cheeks. "And how are you this morning, Mrs. Darcy?"
He kissed her cheek. "Mrs. Darcy."
Then the other one. "Mrs. Darcy."
Then her nose. "Mrs. Darcy."
Then her forehead. "Mrs. Darcy."
And time seemed to stop when his lips met hers.
"Mrs. Darcy… my wonderful, perfect Eden."
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