Page 35 of I am Jael (Pride and Prejudice Variation)

Pemberley

Elizabeth Darcy sat down on the chair gingerly and smiled at the young maid who was filling a plate with her favorite foods from a nearby buffet table.

“Thank you, Rebekah,” she commented as the girl placed the dish by her table.

“You are welcome, Mrs. Darcy,” the girl replied and left the room quietly.

Elizabeth took a few bites of eggs and toast when the door opened again. She glanced up and smiled at her husband and sister-in-law.

“Georgiana, you are up early!”

“So is Fitzwilliam,” Georgie pointed out cheerfully.

“My dear husband is always up early, especially during the harvest season.”

“It is indeed a busy time,” Darcy agreed, collecting a plate of food and sitting next to his darling wife. “How are you today, Elizabeth?”

“Excessively warm, I fear, but all in all I am very well. Of course, I am not sleeping soundly, but that is not surprising.”

Darcy, with a quick glance at his distracted sister, leaned forward to brush his lips against Elizabeth’s, “It will not be much longer.”

She ran a hand over her swollen form and nodded, “No, it will not be. I think your son or daughter will be making an appearance within the next few days.”

“I will of course welcome another son most eagerly, but I admit to hoping for a daughter with your dark eyes and curls.”

There was a soft exclamation from Georgiana, causing the couple to lift surprised eyes towards the young woman.

She was staring at a letter in her hand and now she spoke up in astonishment, “Fitzwilliam, Elizabeth, Cousin Anne is engaged to be married!”

Elizabeth gasped, “Engaged?”

“Yes!”

“To whom?” Darcy demanded in a concerned tone.

“To Mr. Richards, the rector who replaced Mr. Collins.”

Darcy relaxed immediately and took a sip of tea, “Mr. Richards? He is a fine man.”

“But will he be good for Anne?” Elizabeth inquired worriedly.

“I am certain he will,” Georgiana assured her.

“I have been in frequent correspondence with Anne, as you know, discussing relief for the tenants of both Pemberley and Rosings after last year’s poor harvest. Mr. Richards is a truly godly man.

He has done tremendous good for the community.

I knew Anne respected him, and that he admired her, but I was concerned that she would be reluctant to give up control of Rosings. ”

“Lady Catherine will be quite enraged,” Darcy commented. “Mr. Richards is but the third son of a country gentleman, so a surprising man to win the heiress of Rosings.”

Elizabeth shrugged, “When is Lady Catherine not enraged? I am merely thankful that after the ugly scene nearly five years ago where she had to be forcibly removed from the main house, she has given up her attempts to control the estate. I fear she bullies her servants quite relentlessly, but they are paid well to care for her.”

“I’m very happy for Anne,” Georgie said with a soft sigh of satisfaction. “I know she has felt great purpose in improving the holdings at Rosings, but she has been lonely. Mr. Richards will be an excellent husband, and if God so wills, they will enjoy the blessing of children as well.”

“The more children the better, definitely,” Darcy agreed, and they laughed softly, delighting in the companionship and joy of a loving family on a warm summer day.

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Harding’s Confectioners

London

“Mother, can I get you anything before I leave?”

Jenny Harding, formerly Jenny Reynolds, smiled fondly at her daughter Rachel and shook her head, “I am well, my dear. You can run off to the milliner. Be certain to return by dinner.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Please send Edward to me before you leave.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Rachel fled quickly, no doubt concerned that given time, new chores would arise to keep her indoors.

“Mum?”

“Edward, could you please sweep the kitchen? I fear that I swept more flour than usual onto the floor. I am sorry.”

“I’m glad to do it, Mother. Father says you should not be standing over the hot oven with your time coming.”

“I am well enough for now, but thank you for your concern,” the woman replied affectionately as she leaned back in her chair wearily. Her eyes were on her blond, thirteen year old son Edward as he swept the kitchen with vigor and care.

Not for the first time, she thanked the Lord that neither of her twins looked or behaved anything like their father, the immoral, conniving, brutal wretch George Wickham.

It had been fourteen years since the man had forced himself upon her in the still room at Pemberley and when she had realized she was pregnant with the man’s child, Jenny had truly thought her life was ruined.

The local farmer who was pledged to marry her had cast her off, refusing to marry a defiled woman.

And then, she had borne not one but two children, her precious Edward and Rachel.

And indeed, they were precious to her. She was thankful that when they were first laid on her chest, all she could see was their tiny blue eyes and pudgy cheeks, their dimpled chins and soft bodies.

She did not focus on the man who had impregnated her against her will, but on the hope that her own children would have a good and happy life in spite of a horrifying start.

The memories associated with her degradation at Wickham’s hands would never disappear forever, but they had faded significantly in the last years.

Her aunt Mrs. Reynolds, the housekeeper at Pemberley, had arranged for her to move to London, ostensibly as a widow, shortly after the birth of her babies.

Jenny had augmented a small monthly income from Mr. Darcy by washing clothes for local merchants and tradesmen.

Then, six years ago, for reasons Jenny did not completely understand, the monthly support from Mr. Darcy had doubled, taking her from a place of sufficiency to genuine plenty.

The years of mothering her children had taught her frugality, and she had saved most of the excess from Mr. Darcy.

Her prosperity had caught the attention of more than one merchant in the area where she had settled, but she resisted their advances.

Until, that is, she had met Mr. Roger Harding.

Mr. Harding was a few years older than she, a widower with no children from his first marriage.

He was a tall and quiet man, a kind and noble man.

He had not pursued her for her wealth, but for herself.

He had accepted her with compassion and love when she had shared her story of the twins’ conception, and had eagerly taken on the task of providing male guidance and protection for her children.

After a full year of courtship, she had married Mr. Harding of Harding’s Confectionary and now she carried their child in her womb.

Her life, for all its twists and turns, for all its agony and sorrow, was now a happy one.

“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning, little one,” she murmured aloud.

The End