Page 57 of The Talented Daughters of Longbourn

Charles considered her with some concern and asked, “But your pregnancy...?”

“Oh, the babe is not due until February, and you know I have easy pregnancies. I will be well enough!”

“And who would be the performers?”

“Me, of course, and you, and Josiah and Charlotte’s older children, and Kitty and Samuel will be happy to perform, along with Samuel’s siblings still living at Lucas Lodge. And the Longs enjoy amateur theatrics. Some of us can take more than one part. What do you think?”

“I think it is a wonderful idea, Lydia, and I adore you.”

/

Conservatory

Pemberle y

The Pemberley conservatory was warm and just a bit humid, with extravagant windows on each side letting in all the sunlight that could be gleaned from the day.

The atmosphere was lush, with plants sitting neatly in rows upon shelves or dangling from hooks or reposing in pots on the floor or on climbing trellises.

Winding trails and wooden benches presented plenty of opportunity for the inhabitants to enjoy the serenity.

In one corner, a small studio had been set up.

A vast table contained a neat array of paint pots and charcoals and pencils laid out in careful rows.

Two little girls inhabited the space now, one sitting on a simple wooden chair with a fluffy white angora rabbit in her arms, and the other at a petite easel with a half-formed picture upon it.

“Rose, turn just a bit so I can see the rabbit better.”

Rose Darcy, seven years of age, obediently moved a little, and her elder sister Lily nodded in approval and said, “That is perfect! Please do not move!”

“I cannot sit here forever,” Rose declared. “Daffodil will grow tired of letting me hold her.”

“I am working as quickly as I can,” the eldest Darcy child responded, sketching rapidly as she could on the paper.

Three minutes later, Daffodil did indeed decide that sitting still was entirely too dull, especially with so many succulent plants within easy distance.

The angora leaped out of Rose’s arms and onto the floor, whereupon she sniffed the ground delicately, and then hopped toward the orange trees, with the younger Miss Darcy in pursuit.

“Thank you!” Lily called out, regarding the sketch morosely. She had, she thought, done a reasonably good job of sketching Rose’s head and shoulders, but her hands were odd, and the rabbit’s body was too oblong in her drawing.

“That is very good,” a feminine voice said from behind her, and she turned around just in time to be caught up in a warm embrace by her mother Elizabeth.

“It is not nearly as good as your drawings, Mamma,” Lily said, turning to regard the easel with a scowl.

“I have been drawing for far longer than you have been alive, Lily,” Elizabeth remarked, tilting her head to regard the sketch, “and you have improved a great deal in the last year.”

“That is thanks to Uncle Josiah. He taught me how to think of people and animals and trees and ... everything as lines and curves and shapes, like ovals and rectangles and squares. When I look at Rose, and think about Uncle Josiah’s teaching, I am better able to draw her nose and mouth and eyes and hair based on his instruction.

I know that you do not use the same methods when drawing, but it is working well for me. ”

“Artists create in different ways,” her mother agreed. “My memory is remarkable, I know – though it seems normal to me.”

“I am going to return Daffodil to her hutch,” Rose declared, wandering into sight with the rabbit back in her arms again.

“I think your father and brothers are visiting Clover and her puppies for the first time. Shall we join them?”

/

Darcy and his sons were clustered a little ways away from the whelping box.

Tiny squeaks emerged from the wooden pen, and Clover’s soft ears were just visible over the slats as the devoted mother nosed at her young.

Daniel, only a year old, was squealing in excitement and bouncing up and down, hands raised in little fists before his chest. He began inching his way closer, one hand stretching out towards the litter, and Darcy swooped to pick him up .

Daniel wailed, straining his little arm towards the box, while Clover watched the group of humans nervously.

Darcy patted his back. “No, Daniel. We don’t want to upset Clover,” he said firmly.

Georgiana Taylor, standing nearby, smiled sympathetically at her elder brother, even as she clung to her only child.

She had married her beloved Simon, heir to a large estate in Leicestershire, only three years previously.

Miss Adelaide Taylor, a month younger than Daniel Darcy, was wriggling in her mother’s arms, equally eager to get to the puppies.

Her halo of pale blonde hair around her elfin face made her look for all the world like a happy chick, her blue eyes alight as she looked down at the tiny dogs.

At Darcy’s feet, a handsome red spaniel sat panting and looking very proud. Maxwell surveyed his brood, swallowed, and returned to panting, keeping a wary distance from the pups’ mother.

“Do not get too close,” Darcy told Jonathon, and the little boy immediately retreated a few feet, though he looked sad.

“The puppies are cute,” the child said. “I want to hold one.”

“Perhaps in a few days you may,” Elizabeth said, appearing from around the corner of the shed with Lily and Rose at her heels. “Clover is very protective of her babies now. If you get too close, she may bite you because she is afraid you might hurt them.”

“I would not hurt them,” Jonathon protested, and Lily, who took her responsibilities as the eldest child seriously, hurried forward to wrap a comforting arm around her brother.

“We know you would not,” she said, “but Clover does not. Soon she will be happy to let them interact with us, but not yet.”

“Oh, one of the babies has a white spot on his head!” Rose crooned, moving forward but not too close.

At this point, Baby Adelaide decided that she was very tired of being in her mother’s arms, and began wiggling and complaining vigorously.

Georgiana carried the baby out into a grassy place and put her down, where she began to half walk, half crawl, with plenty of squealing.

Darcy carried Daniel over as well, and the other Darcy children followed, while Maxwell leaped and jumped with them.

In the midst of the laughter, and barking, and occasional sobs from the babies when they fell over, Elizabeth found herself arm in arm with her cherished Fitzwilliam who still stood tall and handsome, his hair now sporting a few elegant strands of silver .

The mansion stretched out before them, the vast park surrounding them, and Elizabeth was aware, not for the first time, of a deep sense of gratitude for all that she had.

There had been sorrow and struggle in the years since her marriage, including the death of her mother, and the stillbirth of a baby born far too early.

But through it all, she had her beloved Fitzwilliam at her side – faithful, devoted, true, and loving.

The End