Page 45

CHAPTER 45Epilogue

SUMMER 1813

M ore than a year and a half after Elizabeth and Darcy’s wedding, both of their families gathered at Pemberley.

The Darcy family had recently grown with the birth of their infant son, Bennet Alexander Darcy.

Representing the Fitzwilliam family were the new earl and his wife, the Dowager Countess, and Colonel Fitzwilliam (retired) with his bride of six months, the former Amelia Livesay.

The late earl had endured nearly nine months imprisoned in the Tower before refusing food and water, bringing about his own end.

Lady Matlock observed a brief mourning period of three months—emerging from her black just in time for her second son’s wedding.

Jane had married Frederick Livesay nearly a year earlier, and the couple had journeyed to Pemberley on their way home to Yorkshire after the London Season.

James Livesay naturally accompanied them, along with his new bride.

He had met the Bennets’ neighbour, Charlotte Lucas, during a visit to Longbourn, and their attachment had been swift and sincere.

The two married just a few months after Frederick and Jane.

Both Charlotte and Jane were expecting children in the late autumn.

The Bennet family, now reduced to only four living at Longbourn, was represented by Mr. and Mrs. Bennet and their youngest daughters, Lydia and Kitty.

Mary had joined Georgiana Darcy for her first Season this spring and while Georgiana had yet to find a husband, Mary had found one—a gentleman with a modest estate in Staffordshire.

Married less than a month, they were still on their wedding trip in Lyme.

Lydia’s last months at school had brought about a remarkable change.

When she returned to Longbourn at the end of the Easter term more than a year earlier, it was clear she had finally begun to understand the consequences of her behaviour—not only for herself, but for her entire family.

The turning point had been the scandal involving Miss Sedgewick.

Lydia, witnessing the fallout, seemed to grasp for the first time the serious repercussions of disregarding propriety.

With the Bennets had come the Gardiners, rounding out the party.

The house was fuller and livelier than it had been in many years, filled with sounds of happiness.

Later that evening, as the soft hush of twilight blanketed the estate, Elizabeth and Darcy stepped onto the terrace adjoining their chambers, a warm shawl draped over her shoulders and their son sleeping peacefully in her arms, having sought the escape after so many months without company.

They watched the activity in the garden below, still echoing with faint laughter.

Catherine and Georgiana were walking arm in arm while Frederick and James Livesay participated in genial debate.

Somewhere, they heard Lydia calling instructions to the younger cousins who were staging an impromptu game on the lawn.

Even the older members of the party had joined in the merriment and were watching the younger generation as they played .

On the terrace, Darcy stood close to his wife, his hand resting at the small of her back as they both looked down upon their son.

“It is strange,” he murmured, “to think how much has changed since I first met your family.”

“I am eternally grateful to your father,” Elizabeth said.

“Can you imagine what my family would have been like had your father not inspired mine to change? Lydia would have been unchecked, Catherine would have followed her, and I am uncertain what Mary would have been.”

She laughed softly to herself.

“And Mama, she would have been insufferable.”

“I would have been proud, arrogant even,” Darcy admitted.

“I met your family with an open mind when I first came to Hertfordshire, and Father’s words to me allowed me to even consider you. I had wondered what you were like for all those years before we met.”

He paused for a moment.

“Did I ever tell you that I stayed in your room when I visited with my father?” he asked, surprising Elizabeth.

She turned to look at him more fully.

“You did?”

“Yes, it must have been yours,” he said.

“I cannot imagine your sister being the one to read Shakespeare, and I distinctly recall seeing Midsummer on the nightstand.”

“ Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, And therefore is wing’d Cupid painted blind, ” Elizabeth quoted softly.

Darcy laughed. “That is certainly true for us. While I cannot claim that I loved you before I arrived in Hertfordshire, the letters you scribed for your father had been full of your personality and wit.”

That caused Elizabeth to chuckle.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Papa told me about your letter to him once you figured out why the tone of his letters had changed. Then, I began writing more faithfully what he dictated but added my own lines at the ending. ”

Darcy merely shook his head in reply.

Looking down at the garden, he smiled.

“We have all grown since then.”

“We have,” Elizabeth agreed.

He looked at her then, with the familiar warmth that made her heart stir.

“Pemberley is quite different with so many guests in residence. I never imagined such harmony among so many strong opinions. Nor did I expect to enjoy the lively…sport of family life quite so much.”

She tilted her head playfully.

“ Sport , is it? I suppose it is. There was certainly enough of it at the dinner table this evening.”

“I heard from Bingley,” Darcy said, again surprising his wife.

“Is he in America still?” Elizabeth asked.

“He is. It proved more difficult than he thought to banish his sister, and he has decided that the opportunities are better for him there. She is still with him, however, so I am uncertain what his plans might be,” Darcy replied.

Elizabeth nodded. “I am very sorry that Aunt Horatia could not join us. The Hursts are nice enough company, but I much prefer their aunt.”

“She has purchased Netherfield,” Darcy said after a moment.

“We have an open invitation to stay whenever we are in the area.”

Elizabeth laughed.

“I will need to ask Mama how she feels about that. She was ever so hopeful that it would be purchased by a young man of means who might marry Catherine or Lydia.”

“Horatia Bingley is far better company and much more entertaining,” Darcy said.

“Catherine is old enough to join Georgiana next spring, and perhaps Lydia might come as well.”

Nodding, Elizabeth slowly rocked back and forth as their son stirred in her arms .

“Let us take this young man to the nursery and turn him over to the nurse for the evening,” Darcy said, watching his wife.

“It is time we joined our families again.”

She looked up at him with a gentle smile.

“Do you suppose anyone will notice if we are gone just a little longer?”

Darcy chuckled softly.

“If they do, they will likely assume I have stolen you away for some private moments.”

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, amused.

“Would they be wrong?”

“Not entirely,” he replied, offering his arm as they turned towards the house.

“I will admit, as much as I enjoy our usual peace, it is rather pleasant to have so many under one roof—pleasant chaos, perhaps, but still welcome.”

They walked slowly through the corridor, the soft glow of candlelight guiding their steps.

From the drawing room ahead, the sound of a pianoforte drifted through the halls—Georgiana and Amelia playing a duet, accompanied by the distant hum of conversation and laughter as their guests returned inside.

Reaching the nursery, Elizabeth pressed a kiss to Bennet’s forehead before handing him over to the nurse.

The child stirred once, then settled with a contented sigh.

Darcy paused at the door, his gaze on his sleeping son.

“It is a strange thing,” he said quietly.

“To love someone so small so completely.”

Elizabeth slipped her hand into his.

“He is everything good from both of us.”

Darcy turned to her, his expression soft.

“And we—” He stopped, his eyes searching hers.

“We are everything I once worried may be beyond my reach.”

They lingered a moment more before returning to their guests, hand in hand—ready to rejoin the laughter, the music, and the unpredictable, spirited joy that came with family and friendship.