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Chapter Twenty-Four

The little church in Meryton, bedecked with winter greenery, glowed with candlelight as Jane Bennet pledged herself to Colonel Fitzwilliam, or Lord Richard Fitzwilliam as he now was, having sold his commission.

Elizabeth stood watching, her heart full of quiet joy, as Jane’s serene smile and Richard’s steady gaze spoke more eloquently than their carefully pronounced vows of the depth of feeling between them.

As the wedding party gathered at Longbourn for the breakfast, Elizabeth observed the scene with a curious mixture of happiness and reflection.

The house had been transformed for the occasion, evergreen boughs adorning the mantels, red ribbons festooning the stair rails, and the scent of cinnamon and cloves perfuming the air.

Mrs Hill and her staff had outdone themselves, presenting a feast that would have satisfied even the most particular hostess in London.

“Are you well, my love?” her husband’s voice broke gently into her thoughts as he approached, two glasses of wine in hand. “You seem lost in contemplation.”

Elizabeth accepted the offered glass with a smile. “Merely marvelling at how much has changed in a twelvemonth. Last Christmas, I could scarcely have predicted any of this.”

Darcy’s gaze followed hers to where Jane sat beside her new husband, her smile radiant. “Your sister looks truly happy,” he observed quietly.

“She is,” Elizabeth confirmed, taking a small sip of her wine. “Despite everything... all the upheaval.”

They did not speak directly of Bingley or Caroline.

By mutual agreement, that painful chapter remained closed in their conversations, though its shadow occasionally fell across otherwise bright moments.

The official story, that Bingley had been so overcome by grief at his sister’s tragic accident that he had left England to seek solace in America, had been accepted without question by society at large, especially once Jane’s engagement was announced.

Only a small circle knew the truth, and they guarded it carefully.

“I have something to tell you,” Darcy said suddenly, his voice low. “Or rather, to ask.”

Elizabeth looked up at him, intrigued by the hint of secretive pleasure in his expression. “What is it?”

“Not yet,” he replied with a slight smile. “I wish to tell Jane and Lord Fitzwilliam first, and you should hear it alongside them. It concerns them most directly.”

“Now you have thoroughly captured my curiosity,” Elizabeth chided playfully. “How long must I wait to have it satisfied?”

“Only until the proper moment after the meal,” Darcy promised. “I believe your father intends to speak first, and then I shall make my announcement.”

Elizabeth studied her husband’s face, trying to discern what he might be planning.

His expression revealed nothing beyond a certain satisfaction that suggested whatever it was, he believed it would be well received.

She had grown accustomed to his occasional surprises over their months of marriage.

Fitzwilliam Darcy, contrary to the stiff, proud man she had first encountered, possessed a generous heart and often expressed it through thoughtful gestures rather than flowery words.

The meal progressed with all the proper formality such occasions demanded.

Mr Bennet, looking unusually dignified in his best coat, proposed a toast to the bride and groom that managed to be both affectionate and mercifully brief.

Mrs Bennet, resplendent in a new gown of royal blue, wept happy tears into her handkerchief, occasionally exclaiming over her good fortune in having a daughter marry a lord.

As the final course was cleared away, Darcy rose from his seat, gently tapping his glass to gain the attention of the assembled company. The room gradually quieted, all eyes turning toward him with curious anticipation.

“If I might claim your attention for a moment,” he began, his deep voice carrying easily through the room. “I wish to offer my own felicitations to the bride and groom, and to present them with a small token of my esteem.”

Elizabeth watched as Jane and Richard turned toward Darcy, their expressions politely attentive. Whatever they might be expecting, a conventional gift perhaps, or a contribution to their household, Elizabeth knew from her husband’s manner that what he planned would exceed their expectations.

“As many of you know,” Darcy continued, “Lord Richard Fitzwilliam has recently sold his commission and inherited an estate in Oxfordshire, where he and his bride intended to make their home once the current tenants quit it at the end of their lease.”

Jane nodded, exchanging a smile with her husband.

The Oxfordshire property had been the subject of much discussion in recent weeks, with Jane learning all she could about her future home and responsibilities.

However, it would be some time before the couple were able to relocate, as the lease had been renewed until the following Michaelmas just before the inheritance was finalised, and the tenants were reluctant to quit it at all.

Jane and Richard would make their home in London for now, at the Matlock townhouse.

“It is a fine property,” Darcy acknowledged, “and will no doubt provide an excellent income. However, it occurs to me that managing an estate requires experience, particularly when one has spent most of one’s adult life in military service.”

Richard raised an eyebrow but nodded in good-humoured agreement. “I confess agricultural matters present a somewhat different challenge than military strategy,” he admitted.

“Precisely so,” Darcy agreed. “Which brings me to my proposition. I have recently acquired Netherfield Park.”

A ripple of surprise moved through the room. Elizabeth felt her own eyes widen, for while Darcy had mentioned considering various property investments, he had never spoken of Netherfield. Given all that had transpired there, she would have thought it the last place he might wish to own.

“My intention,” Darcy continued, his gaze steady on the newly wedded couple, “is to offer Netherfield as your residence, Lord and Lady Fitzwilliam. Not as a gift of property, for the estate shall remain part of Pemberley’s holdings, but as a home and a responsibility.

I propose that you manage Netherfield on my behalf, implementing whatever improvements you deem appropriate, while the tenants at your Oxfordshire property continue to provide you with an independent income stream. ”

Elizabeth watched the shock register on Jane’s face, her normally serene countenance transformed by surprise. Richard looked equally startled, though he mastered his expression more quickly.

“You wish us to live at Netherfield?” Jane asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“If you would find the arrangement agreeable,” Darcy confirmed. “The house stands ready, and I believe your experience of the neighbourhood would make the transition a smooth one.”

Jane and Richard exchanged a look of growing wonder, the implications of Darcy’s offer becoming clearer by the moment.

To live at Netherfield would mean remaining close to Longbourn, to Jane’s family, to all she had known and loved throughout her life, and it would mean having their own home at once, not having to live in London with Richard’s parents.

“I hardly know what to say,” Jane murmured, her eyes bright with emotion. “Such generosity is... overwhelming.”

Richard covered her hand with his own, his expression softening as he studied his wife’s face.

“I believe my bride finds the proposal most agreeable,” he observed with gentle humour.

“And I confess the prospect of learning estate management under your guidance, Darcy, rather than through trial and error, holds considerable appeal.”

“Then you accept?” Darcy asked, though the answer was already clear from their expressions.

“With profound gratitude,” Richard confirmed, rising to extend his hand to Darcy. “You have always been generous, cousin, but this exceeds all expectation.”

As the men shook hands, Elizabeth found herself meeting Jane’s gaze across the table. Her sister’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears of joy, her lips forming words that only Elizabeth could read: “I can stay near home.”

Elizabeth nodded, her own heart too full for speech.

In that moment, she recognised the full measure of what Darcy had done.

He had purchased a property associated with painful memories and transformed it into a gift of immeasurable value, not merely for Jane and Richard, but for all who loved them.

It was an act of reclamation, of healing, turning what had been tainted by tragedy into a new beginning.

The room erupted in exclamations of delight and congratulations.

Mrs Bennet, overcome with joy at the prospect of having Jane remaining so near, alternated between crying and laughing as she embraced her eldest daughter.

Mr Bennet, more restrained but no less pleased, shook hands warmly with both Darcy and Richard.

“A most elegant solution,” he remarked to Darcy. “I commend your thoroughness in ensuring my Jane’s happiness.”

“It seemed a practical arrangement,” Darcy replied modestly, though Elizabeth, knowing him well, could see the satisfaction he took in the joy his announcement had created.

As the excitement continued around them, Elizabeth made her way to her husband’s side, slipping her hand into his. “You said nothing of this to me,” she said softly.

“I wished it to be a surprise for you as well,” Darcy admitted. “Are you pleased?”

Elizabeth looked up at him, her heart swelling with love and pride. “Beyond words,” she told him honestly. “To have Jane able to stay here, where she feels safe and happy... and to see Netherfield become a place of happiness rather than sorrow. It is a gift beyond price.”