Page 58 of Five Gentlemen at Netherfield (Pride and Prejudice Variations)
Amusements, even on this day of national rejoicing, were quiet and solemn.
The music room and the lid of the sitting room pianoforte alike stood firmly shut out of respect for the deceased Earl of Matlock.
There were sufficient lit candles that the ladies could sew, if they wished, but not a one felt like plying her needle this evening.
It was not often that all six sisters – the former Bennets, as well as Georgiana – had the opportunity to all be together like this.
Cousins renewed acquaintance and friendship, as sisters eagerly exchanged news in hushed voices and gentlemen chatted with one another.
Elizabeth relaxed back into an exceedingly comfortable chair in front of the welcoming fire.
Outside, the air was cooling into evening, and though it was likely that the revelers at the park would not mind the chill, Elizabeth was thankful for a good fireplace and tight-fitting windows to warm the party indoors.
Her heart swelled with love as she looked around at the familiar, happy faces around her.
Her gaze focused on Mary and her husband, recently returned from the coronation, standing hand in hand in front of the fire and gazing upon one another lovingly.
Elizabeth smiled. It was good to see her steady, sensible sister married to a good and kindly man who valued and loved her.
Richard, too, was a dear friend, as dear as any natural-born brother, and Elizabeth was grateful that Mary had proven a worthy wife to the resolute former Colonel.
It was an indubitable honor to ascend to an Earldom, and one that Richard had, of late years, anticipated, but that did not appreciably lessen the difficulty of such an ascension.
It was well for him that he had a capable companion to aid him as he assumed his numerous new duties.
Mary would be a good countess, mindful of her servants and tenants and the demands of an estate neglected by a predecessor who had preferred the balls and parties and glitter of Town to the perceived dullness of the country and its attendant duties.
“Mamma?”
Elizabeth turned to look at her elder daughter Frances, who had been named after her maternal grandmother.
Like Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Jane Bingley, Frances was a blue-eyed blonde and so beautiful that she was already turning heads at the age of fifteen.
She would not be out for a few years, but when she was launched, she would doubtless be a great success.
It was, to be frank, an intimidating prospect, and Elizabeth was glad that she had three or four more years before Frances was launched, and six or seven years before her younger daughter Elinor was ready to enter society.
“Yes, my dear?” Elizabeth asked.
Frances glanced toward the window, which, while not yet black, was darkening steadily, and said, “The fireworks are to start soon. Might my cousins and I go out to the back lawn to wait for them?”
“I think we should all go out,” Richard, the new Earl of Matlock, said, approaching with a smile on his face. “I am confident the fireworks will be some of the best ever enjoyed in London as we celebrate the coronation of Queen Victoria.”
This provoked a soft squeal of excitement from Elinor Darcy, who was lurking nearby, and within a few minutes, all but the Dowager Countess had donned shawls and coats as necessary and made their way into the yard, which was of moderate size and very well-tended, with a wrought-iron fence facing Green Park.
As the light continued to gently fade, Elizabeth found her eyes shifting from one group to another in the grass.
Her sister Jane had birthed two sons followed by three daughters, and her girls, all blonde and blue-eyed, were clustered around their parents like posies.
Mary and Richard stood side by side, hand in hand, talking with Darcy in a low tone, while Mary’s only daughter, Deborah, age sixteen, stood near her two Darcy cousins, her face turned eagerly toward Green Park.
Hugo and Kitty Buxton were surrounded by their four daughters, who ranged in age from fourteen to eight.
Like Elizabeth, Kitty had birthed two sons first, which was a great relief as the Buxton estate of Hilltop was, like Longbourn, entailed away from the female line.
With two healthy boys, Hilltop would stay in the Buxton line, and Kitty’s daughters would be safe and secure from poverty.
Elizabeth did not feel as if she knew Kitty’s husband particularly well, as he was a quiet man, even more so than her own Fitzwilliam, but she knew he was hardworking and faithful, a devoted husband and a good father, and that Kitty adored him.
What more could a woman want in her marriage?
Her eyes fell finally on her sister-in-law Georgiana and sister Lydia, who were standing nearest the fence with their own husbands.
Georgiana had married a baron, Lord Lynley, and was now mistress of a large estate in Sussex.
She had birthed three daughters before delivering her only son, ten-year-old Isaac, who was running around the backyard with his three elder sisters keeping a close eye on him.
Last, but not least, Elizabeth considered Lydia.
The former youngest Miss Bennet had matured a great deal in the last decades.
She was still lively and energetic, but she now combined those traits with wisdom and graciousness.
Her marriage to Mr. Everhart, whose father had earned a fortune in trade, had been a happy and prolific one, as Lydia had carried no fewer than two sons and five daughters to full term.
Those girls, some of whom were still under the age of ten, were running happily around with the other young members of the party.
There was a loud thump from the south, and Elizabeth turned as something streaked into the sky and burst into a glorious combination of colors.
There were cries of excitement from the group, and Elizabeth heaved a sigh of joy. Even in her forties, she did love firework displays!
A familiar hand took hers, and she turned toward her husband, who looked down on her, and even in the near darkness, she could recognize the look of love on his face.
She lifted herself up on her tiptoes and kissed him, and he kissed her in return as the heavens continued to fill with glorious light.
The End