Page 58 of The Mercy of Chance

As the seasons turned, the ladies of Longbourn found their paths unfolding in ways none could have foreseen that cold day when Grandfather had closed his eyes for the final time.

The Lodge

The lavender and rosemary beds at the Lodge flourished under Mrs Bennet’s careful attention, their fragrance greeting visitors who approached the elegantly proportioned cottage at the edge of Longbourn’s grounds.

Mr Freeman’s quiet proposal came, as all who knew them expected, during a discussion of herb preservation techniques one autumn afternoon.

Their December wedding, modest and dignified, saw the widow Bennet exchange her black for a deep blue that brought a trace of remembered youth to her countenance.

“I had not thought to find such companionship again,”

she confided to Elizabeth as they walked the Lodge’s neat paths.

“To be valued for one’s mind rather than merely one’s appearance—there is a particular satisfaction in that.”

Mr Freeman’s extensive library relocated to the Lodge where it joined Mrs Freeman’s growing collection of fine china.

Their dinner parties became renowned among the seven and twenty families surrounding Meryton.

Dunbar Court

Colonel Fitzwilliam’s military discipline, combined with Jane’s unruffled management, transformed Dunbar Court from neglected property to the jewel of the neighbourhood.

Their August wedding saw the newly renovated manor house gleaming in summer sunshine, its grounds immaculately groomed, and its interiors restored to their former splendour.

“Organisation is only the foundation,”

the Colonel often remarked.

“It is my wife’s particular genius for harmony that truly elevated this house to a home.”

Jane’s gentle guidance extended beyond household matters to the tenant farms, where her deep understanding of local agricultural methods proved invaluable.

The Fitzwilliams soon became known for their progressive approach to estate management, balancing tradition with innovation in ways that fostered both prosperity and loyalty among their dependents.

Netherfield Park

Bingleys’ hasty departure had left Netherfield in such disarray that its owner, Mr Sim, upon returning from the West Indies, declared himself “utterly disgusted with the shambles.”

When Mr Fairfield, whose scientific work had begun to attract attention in agricultural circles, expressed interest in the property, the owner practically thrust the keys into his hands at a price so low that it raised eyebrows throughout the county.

“The drainage alone requires complete restructuring,”

Mr Fairfield explained to Mary during one of their lengthy discussions of soil composition.

“Although with proper understanding of underground water movement…” His voice trailed off as he realised she was regarding him with unusual intensity.

“I believe,”

Mary replied with careful precision, “that I might have some thoughts on the matter.”

Their courtship, conducted largely through shared experiments and scholarly debate, culminated in a spring wedding that united two methodical minds in perfect intellectual harmony.

Netherfield’s transformation under their stewardship became a study in itself, as they converted portions of the estate into experimental fields where new scientific principles were applied to traditional farming methods with remarkable results.

Longbourn

Kitty’s marriage to Mr Blackwood, whose medical training and botanical illustrations had captured attention beyond Hertfordshire, occurred with less fanfare but equal joy.

Their shared passion for propagation techniques led to Longbourn’s orchards expanding beyond anyone’s expectations, the grafted varieties producing fruit that commanded premium prices at London markets.

Their combined skill in medicine and herb craft benefitted the neighbourhood.

“We are but stewards,”

Kitty would say, echoing her grandfather’s philosophy.

“Each generation leaves its mark, but the land remains.”

As trustees for all the Bennet sisters’ interests in Longbourn, the Blackwoods maintained the estate’s central position in the family’s connection, hosting seasonal gatherings that brought the scattered branches together with increasing frequency as children began to join the family circle.

Lydia’s Extraordinary Elevation

It was Lydia, ever unpredictable, who followed the most astonishing path.

Her genuine interest in sheep breeding led her to an agricultural exhibition in London, where her forthright critique of a particular flock’s wool quality caught the attention of their owner.

“If these are meant to be prize specimens,”

she declared, unaware she was addressing the Earl of Hampstead himself rather than his agent, “then I fear the standards have fallen considerably since last season.

The tensile strength is shamefully inadequate.”

Rather than taking offence, the Earl—a widower known for his progressive agricultural methods—was charmed by her unvarnished expertise and spirited manner.

Her invitation to the ‘agent’ to visit Longbourn to observe their breeding programme was accepted with alacrity.

“She speaks more sensibly about cross-breeding techniques than half my land agents,”

the Earl confided to Elizabeth during their visit.

“And does so without the tedious deference that so often clouds honest assessment.”

What began as agricultural consultation soon blossomed into something neither could have anticipated.

The Earl, finding in Lydia both a vibrant mind and a refreshing lack of artifice, offered for her hand six months later—to the astonishment of society and the private satisfaction of Mrs Bennet, who had always suspected her youngest’s exuberance would find its proper channel, eventually.

“It is not,”

Lydia informed her scandalised new peers at her first London dinner party, “a matter of marrying above or below oneself, but of finding a mind that challenges rather than merely echoes one’s own.”

Their partnership, both personal and professional, revolutionised the Earl’s already substantial agricultural holdings.

Lydia’s innovative approaches complemented her husband’s resources, resulting in breeding programmes that eventually supplied bloodstock to farms throughout England.

That she presided over these enterprises whilst simultaneously managing her social position with unexpected grace became yet another testament to the Bennet sisters’ remarkable adaptability.

“I always knew she would exceed expectations,”

Elizabeth remarked to Jane upon attending Lydia’s first formal ball as Countess.

“Upon reflection, even my imagination had limits.”

The Circle Complete

Ten years after Grandfather Bennet’s passing, a summer gathering at Longbourn brought the extended family together—from Pemberley came the Darcys with their three children; from Dunbar Court, the Fitzwilliams with their twins; from Netherfield, the Fairfields with their solitary but precocious son; from North Lodge, the Freemans, whose advanced years had only deepened their companionable affection; and from Hampstead Hall, the Earl, and Countess with their three robust children, whose titles did little to curb their irrepressible Bennet spiritedness.

As Elizabeth stood beside her husband watching the next generation explore the gardens where she had once walked with her grandfather, she felt the circle of life complete itself with satisfying symmetry.

“He would be pleased,”

Darcy murmured, following her gaze.

“To see how his faith in your capabilities has borne fruit.”

“Not only in capabilities,”

Elizabeth said, her hand finding his, “but in knowing happiness lies more in challenging convention than in bowing to it.

“A lesson,”

he acknowledged with a smile that still, after all these years, made her heart quicken, “that has proved remarkably applicable beyond mere estate management.”

The summer evening wrapped around them like a blessing as children’s laughter mingled with adult conversation, the legacy of James Huntington Bennet living on not just in the land that flourished under his granddaughters’ stewardship, but in the lives they had built upon its solid foundation—each distinct, each valuable, and each rooted in the belief that women’s minds were as worthy of cultivation as any.

“You’d think that people would’ve had enough of silly love songs

But I look around me and I see it isn’t so

Some people want to fill the world with silly love songs

And what’s wrong with that?

I’d like to know

‘Cause here I go again”