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J ane was very happy after the ball. She had been asked to dance many of the sets, and the amiable and handsome Mr Bingley had danced one set with her. She did not know if she would see him again, but she had felt something with him she had never experienced before.

As pleased as she was for herself, she was more so for Betsy, who had furthered her friendship with Mr Collins.

Her friend was losing her heart to the rector, and Jane did not believe the man would trifle with Betsy.

He was too honourable for that. He was not her relative, but he was a cousin, albeit a distant one to her four sisters.

If Betsy found love with him, she would be very happy for her best friend.

Although she was not sure if she was worthy of the love of a good man, one thing Jane was certain of was that she would have to disclose her past history if she ever met a man who was interested in her and she in him. She would not have a man marry her while she hid the truth of her past from him.

As Jane did not think marriage would be in her future, she resolved not to think about what she would have to do until, or unless, she needed to cross that bridge.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

“Do you have an understanding with Miss Bennet?” Anne asked Richard the next day after leaving Hertfordshire House in the small hours of the morning.

“No, I do not,” he replied. They were seated in the family dining parlour in the newly refurbished Fitzwilliam House on Berkeley Square.

“Then, cousin of mine, why not?” Anne enquired. “She danced more than one set with no one but you, and not just any two sets, the supper and final. And let me see if I remember what the last two dances were…oh yes, the waltz. Why are you dallying, Richard?”

“Because she has only just now come out,” Richard explained, “I do not want to declare myself until she has had a season. Once she has experienced more of society, if she is unattached, I will move forward.”

“That makes no sense. I have no experience with love, but I could see that Miss Bennet is besotted with you.” Anne paused as she cogitated over something.

“Has one of her guardians warned you off until the end of her first season?” She saw her cousin shake his head.

“Do not be a simpleton, Rich. You can give her the time you say you want, but speak to her. Make sure you take what she wants into account before you go making decisions without any reference to her desires.” As one who had lived with a mother who never considered her own wants and needs, Anne was all too familiar with having her choices taken away from her.

Richard sat back and drank in Anne’s words. He listened to them a few times before he was ready to respond. “Annie, what you say makes sense. I will think about what I need to say and call upon Mary at Hertfordshire House in the morning.”

“There is the brave man who used to charge into battle. I will be very happy when you bring her to Rosings Park as your wife and the new mistress of the estate.”

“Thank you for your good advice, Annie.”

“Unlike Mrs de Bourgh, I suggest, I do not claim knowledge and expertise I do not possess.”

“Have you heard anything about your mother of late?”

“As you know, other than one letter to claim ill-use, she has never written to me. The couple who are employed to watch over her reported that after she tried to order some of the villagers around, and was roundly scolded for it, other than to purchase her needs, she keeps to herself. She brought this all on herself, all because she could never be happy with what she had; she always needed more.”

“If she was not one who thought she was never wrong, there could have been a path to redemption for her. She will have to live with her choices,” Richard stated stoically.

His mind was quickly engaged by what he would say to Mary on the morrow.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

Mary was hoping Richard would call. It was understandable he did not call the day after the ball, so she was glowing with happiness when he was shown into the drawing room the following day.

“It is a cold day, so we may stay warm, Mary, will you take a turn in the conservatory with me?” Richard requested.

“That is agreeable to me,” Mary answered as she smiled at him.

On the way out of the drawing room, with her companion following her, she and Richard made for the side door which led into the rather extensive hothouse.

Unlike the garden, which was at the whim of the weather, the conservatory was warm and always filled with the colours and fragrances of many species of flowers and fruit trees.

Even some of the rare pineapples were being cultivated.

When the couple made their way into the warmth of the conservatory, Mrs Ralston followed them at a distance which would allow them to speak while remaining in her line of sight at all times.

Richard led her to a bench near the four banana trees. “May we sit, Mary?”

“Of course we may,” Mary responded. She sat herself on one end of the wooden bench while Richard sat at the opposite end. They were not far apart thanks to the bench not being very long.

The companion found a seat where she could see, but not hear them.

“Mary, I am sure one as astute as you could not have missed my marked attention to you; am I correct?” Richard enquired.

“I have noticed it.”

“When I look into my future, there is no version I can visualise without you in it.” He did not miss that Mary glowed with pleasure.

“I do have a concern.” Richard hated that he had caused her face to fall.

“Not with a future between us, but the timing only. If I were a selfish being, I would ask for a courtship right now.” Her face glowed again.

“Mary, you only turned eighteen in September, so as much as I want to declare myself now, I would like to wait until May or June of the coming year when your first season is completed.

“If, or rather when, we decide to join our lives, I do not desire for you to have any questions or regrets. Hence, I want you to know that it is my prayer that by the end of your season, your heart will be yearning for mine, and only mine. I am wagering that no other would have captured your heart by then. As much as I do not want that to occur, if it does, then we were not part of His plan. I believe we are, and I have enough faith to wait until the end of your season. Do you feel the same?”

As she processed all he had said, Mary, who at first thought he was crying off, understood what he was saying.

This wonderful man was risking his own heart to make sure hers was completely engaged.

She was very sure it was, but he was correct; she was young and had only just entered society.

Yes, Lizzy and Archy had known their hearts when Lizzy was but sixteen, but that was them.

Mary recognised his action as the most selfless thing she had ever experienced.

He was correct, and yes, she had all the faith that they would come together.

“I honour and understand your decision. I very much look forward to the end of my season, which I will demand concludes in May, the middle of the month at the latest.” Mary smiled at Richard with affection in her eyes.

A few minutes later they left the hothouse and returned to the drawing room. After Richard departed, Mary shared the gist of their conversation with Lizzy.

Elizabeth agreed it was a wise path Mary and Richard had chosen.

~~~~~~~/~~~~~~~

In order to save the families like the Fitzwilliams, Darcys, and Portnoys travelling to the north in the sometimes-treacherous conditions of the early arriving winter that year, Christmastide was celebrated at Falconwood.

As would be expected, the Barringtons, Gardiners, Lucases, and Phillipses were included.

Hence, it was a large, lively party assembled to celebrate the season with the Chamberlains.

A day after everyone arrived, Hertfordshire was seated in his study, making sure everything was completed so he would be able to spend the time with his wife, children and guests without having to worry that he had neglected his duties.

He closed the final ledger, which signified the last of the work he needed to do and sat looking about the large room.

Hertfordshire could not believe the blessings he had received since he had fallen irrevocably in love with Lizzy.

She was his partner in all things. She had banished the loneliness he used to deny, even to himself, he suffered from.

Then almost three years past she had gifted him with a son.

Matty would be three in May 1811. He was such a darling boy; intelligent like his mother, but except for his hair colour, in looks like himself.

The days of incoherent words were long over.

Like his mama before him, once he began to speak, he would not stop.

How his son loved his parents reading to him, and they did so every day, taking turns, and sometimes each reading something to him on the same day.

As if the blessing of Matty was not enough, in February of this year Gracie and Winston were born.

With Gracie, Hertfordshire had had his fervent wish answered.

Shortly after she turned five months old, her eyes had turned from the dark blue colour she had been born with to the same emerald-green eye colour as her mama.

Winston’s eyes had remained a dark blue.

The twins were now ten months old, and like Matty before them, they kept everyone on their toes as they would crawl away in the blink of an eye, and never in the same direction.

Other than the deep blue eyes, it appeared Winston was going to look just like Matty and himself.

With all of the love and felicity in his life, Hertfordshire truly understood what King David meant when he wrote ‘ my cup runneth over’ in Psalm 23:5. God had been very good to him.