Page 64 of Moments Frozen in Time (Pride and Prejudice Variation)
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I n the spring, Elizabeth was delivered of the heir, a son named Henry Edward in honour of the two great-uncles who would stand in as grandfathers to the child.
News of the birth—conveyed quite by accident through Lady Lucas—reached Mrs. Bennet, who instantly forgot every cause of estrangement from her daughters and wrote to Elizabeth.
Her letter shifted between congratulations for accomplishing what she herself had failed to do, namely the bearing of a son, and bitter reproaches for removing her sisters from her influence and thereby forcing her mother to sever ties.
Darcy replied with a letter so severe that only he and Mrs. Bennet ever knew its contents.
At last, it compelled her to reckon with the truth of her actions.
For a time she was wretched, and only a few months later Pemberley received a black-edged letter announcing her death at Longbourn.
It was not her husband who wrote, but Mr. Philips.
Though the daughters were saddened, none travelled to Longbourn to honour her memory, nor did they write to their father in sympathy.
In the years that followed, each of the sisters married.
Jane accepted her parson, while Mary wed the son of a gentleman with a modest estate.
Both remained in Derbyshire and were often in the company of their sisters.
Kitty and Georgiana each found husbands during the Season—minor gentlemen without titles, but with comfortable estates near Derbyshire.
Lydia, to everyone’s astonishment, attracted the notice of a handsome young viscount in her third Season and secured a title for herself.
The careful guidance of their elder sisters, together with the steady support of Darcy and Georgiana, ensured that all grew into excellent young women.
After Henry, Elizabeth bore several more children.
Anne Amelia followed a few years later, then William Alexander, and after him Elizabeth Rose.
For a time, there were no further additions, though twice Elizabeth conceived only to lose the babe before it could be born.
These were sorrowful days, yet she and Darcy endured together, emerging stronger.
At last, ten years after little Beth, Richard Thomas was born.
The choice of name had been a difficult one.
Elizabeth’s father had died only months after she discovered her condition.
In the years since Mrs. Bennet’s passing, he had begun to write to his daughters, seeking reconciliation and offering apologies for his part in the breach.
Though his letters were rare, Elizabeth and Darcy once visited him in London, and observed that, having lost both wife and daughters, he had at last turned his attention to Longbourn, labouring to improve it for future generations.
This change of spirit had been prompted in part by the death of Mr. Collins, which occurred a few years after the birth of his only child, a son.
Charlotte Collins returned to Meryton, and she and Mr. Bennet arranged to share Longbourn.
When her boy William was sent to school, Charlotte moved into the dower cottage, restoring it with her own funds, discreetly supplemented by the Darcys.
After Mr. Bennet’s passing, William was still at university, and Darcy assisted Mrs. Collins by appointing a steward to manage the estate until her son could return to claim it.
All five sisters—six when Georgiana was counted amongst them—remained close for the rest of their lives.
The Gardiners and the Fitzwilliams played a role in nearly all of their affairs, and when the extended family gathered at Pemberley for the annual summer celebration, even that great house was taxed to its limits.
Some were obliged to stay in the dower house a mile from the main estate.
Yet none complained, for they were all happy and content.
And though in some particulars they might have wished for circumstances to have been otherwise, they could not, in truth, have wanted for anything.
“Is it not remarkable, Fitzwilliam,” Elizabeth said softly to her husband one afternoon as they looked upon their family gathered at Pemberley, “that but for a single, fleeting instant—one brief moment frozen in time—none of this might have been? All that we now enjoy, all the happiness reflected in the faces of our family, rests upon so delicate a thread, and might never have come to pass without intervention.”
Darcy’s hand closed warmly over hers. “Perhaps, my love, but it has ever been said that the Almighty works in mysterious ways. That our dearly departed ancestors should have played some part in our happiness may seem strange, yet perhaps it is only fitting that those who loved us best should do what they could to aid us.”
Elizabeth smiled, her gaze sweeping over the laughter and cheerful voices filling the halls of Pemberley. “Then I shall be forever grateful for those moments, for they gave us everything.”