Page 100 of Pride and Prejudice Resolutions

"Artistic license," Robert declared. He struck a pose—one foot on a footstool, hand thrust into his waistcoat (the tablecloth), chin lifted to a heroic angle. "There. The conqueror."

"You look like you have a stomach ache," Henry Gardiner observed from the floor, where he was building a tower of blocks.

"It is the burden of leadership, Master Henry," Robert said without breaking character. "Uneasy lies the head that wears the laurel."

"You are wearing a tablecloth," Alice pointed out.

"It is a toga of the mind, Miss Alice. Use your imagination."

Darcy stood by the window with Elizabeth, watching the scene.

"He is ridiculous," Darcy murmured.

"He is in love," Elizabeth corrected. "Look at Jane."

Jane was sketching, her charcoal moving quickly over the paper. But her eyes were fixed on Robert's face with a tenderness that had nothing to do with art. She was not just drawing him. She was memorising him.

"Is that what it looks like?" Darcy asked quietly.

"What?"

"Love. Making a fool of oneself in a drawing room just to make a lady smile."

"I think," Elizabeth said, turning to him, "that love looks different on everyone. On Robert, it is loud and joyful. On Jane, it is quiet and radiant."

"And on us?" Darcy asked. The question hung in the air, heavy and sweet.

Elizabeth looked at the man who had ridden through snow, who had bought her books, who stood beside her now with his heart in his eyes.

"I think," she whispered, "on us, it looks like a truce that became a victory."

"Mr Caesar!" Miss Ruth Gardiner toddled over to Robert and tugged on his tablecloth. "I want to be a Roman too!"

"Excellent!" Robert broke his pose, scooping the little girl up. "You shall be Cleopatra. We shall rule the Nile together."

Jane laughed, a free, happy sound. Robert watched her over the child's head, his expression softening into something raw and beautiful.

"Capture that," Darcy said softly. "That is the real picture."

"I think she already has," Elizabeth replied.

*

While the Romans conquered the rug, a quieter alliance was being forged in the corner of the room. Mrs Gardiner sat on the sofa, sorting through a basket of wool. Georgiana sat beside her, helping to wind a skein of blue yarn.

"You seem pensive, Miss Darcy," Mrs Gardiner noted gently.

"I am. I am thinking about tomorrow," Georgiana admitted. "The ball."

"Are you nervous?"

"A little. I have never been to a grand ball. And Lady Catherine will be there. She is staying at Matlock House. She will be watching me."

Mrs Gardiner stopped winding. She reached out and patted Georgiana's hand. "Lady Catherine is a loud woman with very old-fashioned ideas, I am told. But she has no power over you. You are under the protection of your brother, and the Earl. And, I dare say, my niece."

Georgiana smiled tentatively. "Elizabeth is very brave. She stood up to Fitzwilliam. No one stands up to Fitzwilliam."

"She stands up to him because she respects him enough to tell him the truth," Mrs Gardiner said. "And because she loves him."