A Fortunate Compromise (Sweet Standalone Pride and Prejudice Variations #6)

Epilogue

Twenty Years Later

Elizabeth Darcy sat in the best drawing room of Pemberley, looking out through the broad windows as her children walked in the sunlit garden. A smile crossed her lips. At nineteen years old, her eldest was on the verge of manhood. Henry had grown into a serious man, much like his father in many respects. He would be a good steward of his father’s holdings when the time came—hopefully many years in the future.

Her daughter, now sixteen, was the picture of loveliness. Amelia had inherited Elizabeth’s spirit and was the spitting image of her aunt Georgiana at sixteen, with flowing curls and bright blue eyes.

And then there was James, their youngest. At thirteen, he was so spirited, he sometimes rather reminded Elizabeth of Lydia. Thankfully, high spirits were not nearly so vexatious when a parent was prepared to guide and discipline their child. He would take a commission, perhaps, like his beloved Uncle Fitzwilliam. Even as Elizabeth watched, James shouted and leaped at his brother, playfully knocking him down. She smiled as the boys began tussling in the grass, as they had often done during their boyhood. Henry was sometimes rather solemn, just like his father, but not too solemn to enjoy a bout of wrestling with his younger brother.

Elizabeth sighed contentedly and turned back to her book. The years had been kind to her, indeed. Perhaps even kinder than she deserved, Elizabeth thought, but she intended to take her good fortune and be grateful for it.

Elizabeth had not yet forgotten the events of twenty years before — nor was she likely to. After many a loud debate, Mrs Bennet and Lydia had to brook disappointment on the topic of the double wedding. After all, Mr Darcy had not really procured a special license during his trip to London, and neither he nor she had any objection to waiting for the banns to be read. In the end, they were married just a week after Jane and Mr Bingley.

Then Mr Darcy had brought her home to Pemberley, and Elizabeth had learned that her husband’s estate was no less worthy of her adoration than his character and his person. The wooded grounds took her breath away, no less than the glorious house itself, and best of all was the respect and liking with which Mr Darcy was viewed by all about him. Elizabeth did not think she had ever seen a landholder so esteemed by his tenants, nor a master so praised by his servants. If she had not already learned a better understanding of Mr Darcy’s character, her first meeting with his dear housekeeper, an intelligent and able woman who had known him since boyhood, would have corrected all her old injustices to him.

In her sister-in-law, too, Elizabeth was even better pleased than she had hoped to be. It had seemed not impossible that Georgiana might see her as an intruder, taking over duties as mistress of Pemberley that had formerly belonged to her. In Georgiana, however, Elizabeth found a very shy and unassuming girl, not jealous of her place, and very willing to love and to be loved. Hardly a week had passed after their meeting before they had become fast friends.

The two sisters-in-law were kindred spirits in many ways, and each found inspiration for self-improvement in the friendship, as well as companionship. With delicate, hesitant courtesy, Georgiana pushed Elizabeth to improve her skills as a pianist, and with less diffidence but great good humour, Elizabeth helped her sister-in-law to overcome her lingering tendency to low spirits. Within a few short months, Elizabeth felt Georgiana was well and truly one of her sisters. The time of silent brooding over Mr Wickham slowly ebbed away, and her sister-in-law’s vibrant and cheerful personality returned, much to Mr Darcy’s joy.

Mr Wickham was not mourned — certainly not at Pemberley, and likely not anywhere in England. There had been a letter a few weeks after Elizabeth and Darcy’s wedding, telling them in no uncertain terms that Mr Wickham had received his just desserts. After much deliberation and consulting with Elizabeth, Mr Darcy chose not to inform Georgiana of his fate. Even after all she had suffered at his hands, her tender heart would have grieved for the boy who had grown up at Pemberley, unable to see the traitor and scoundrel he had become. She had suffered enough at Mr Wickham’s hand, and he had feared that bringing it back up would only bring on unnecessary distress.

Thankfully, there was much to distract the little family as Elizabeth and Darcy prepared for their wedding trip. Georgiana would stay with her aunt for a time before travelling on to Longbourn for the rest of the time Elizabeth and Darcy were gone. After the wedding, Georgiana and Mary had become fast friends as well, and would spend their time together playing the pianoforte to their heart’s content.

A smile tugged at the corners of Elizabeth’s mouth as she thought back on that cheerful time. She and Mr Darcy had their disagreements, to be sure, but they always came back to their undying love for one another.

After their return from the wedding trip, nearly six months after their wedding, Elizabeth found out that she was with child. Over the next several years, they welcomed their three children into the world, saw Georgiana married, and rejoiced when Jane and Mr Bingley moved to an estate in Derbyshire, only ten miles away from Pemberley. Jane and Mr Bingley had five daughters in the space of eight years, much to Mrs Bennet’s chagrin. Jane herself did not seem to mind. On the contrary, she was often heard remarking on how fortunate her daughters were — after all, they need not contend with an entail! Much to Elizabeth’s satisfaction, all Jane’s new neighbours seemed to esteem her as she deserved. It was a happy neighbourhood indeed, with such a pair to give all about them an example of what wedded happiness ought to be, for Jane and Mr Bingley had been blissfully happy together since their wedding. They seemed to only grow more in love with each other as the years passed.

Elizabeth felt the same for Mr Darcy. Though she had thought she could never love him more than she had on their wedding day, she found that every year, their love not only deepened, it expanded as they overcame life’s challenges. These did come from time to time, for wealth could not protect them from every difficult circumstance in life. Indeed, she had nearly perished during Amelia’s birth, but by a miracle, she and the baby had survived. Darcy had stayed by her side, despite those who would have kept him from the birthing chamber, holding her hand and speaking of the future. He had kept her calm, given her hope. Sometimes, Elizabeth even felt he had saved her life.

Those had been dark days. For some time, Elizabeth’s letters to Longbourn could not be entirely honest, or at least not entirely open. Mrs Bennet’s complaints of her poor nerves were not entirely imaginary, and Elizabeth would not risk bringing on a fit of apoplexy. Yet there, too, however, there had been an improvement. In the years since she and Jane — and then the rest of her sisters — had married, her mother’s nervous disorders had lessened significantly. Without the pressure of worry over her daughters ending in poverty, Mrs Bennet could finally be at her ease. It was not only her mother who benefited from the change. As Mr Bennet was wont to say, dryly, but with real feeling, he positively relished the quiet that had come to Longbourn.

Lydia and Kitty had continued their good behaviour, even after Elizabeth and Darcy were married. And as she had promised, Elizabeth rewarded them by giving each a London season the year they turned nineteen. Kitty married a sea captain, nearly fifteen years her senior, but a good, level-headed man. They had three sons now below the age of ten, with another child on the way, and had settled not far from Longbourn after her husband’s retirement from the navy.

Lydia had chosen a military man as well. Hers had been a whirlwind romance, but thankfully, she had listened not only to her father’s words of wisdom concerning choosing a partner in life, but to Elizabeth and Jane as well. The man she had married was a few years older than she, but just as spirited and daring. Lydia and her husband, James Borough, had travelled all over the world before coming home to settle near London. They had never been ones to forgo excitement and adventure, and this London could provide in plenty. They had two young daughters, and Elizabeth relished the holidays when the whole family came to Pemberley.

And then there was Mary. She had foregone the same offer to have a London season, professing the desire to stay quietly at home in Longbourn and practise the pianoforte. Elizabeth laughed quietly to herself, thinking how surprised Mary had been to fall in love with the new tenant of Netherfield. Sir Browning was an intelligent man, quiet and deeply religious. He was exactly calculated to tempt Mary into matrimony, and to everyone’s satisfaction, he had the sense to see in Elizabeth’s serious-minded, scholarly sister the treasure she really was. To judge by Mary’s last letter, she was happy indeed.

“Are you daydreaming again, love?” Darcy asked as he joined her in the parlour.

“I am,” Elizabeth admitted. She smiled up at him as he leaned over the back of the settee and kissed her. “I was watching the children, and thinking how very fortunate I am.” She looked out the window again and saw that the boys had ceased their horseplay and were walking with their sister between them, laughing about some joke James had told, no doubt. He was always making them laugh.

He took her hand, squeezing it lightly. “I could not agree more. As you may recall, I have sometimes been called proud —” he grinned wickedly at having called forth Elizabeth’s laugh “ — and when it comes to Henry, Amelia, and James, I cannot defend myself against such an accusation. Were I any more proud of them, I might burst with it.”

Elizabeth stood and joined him at the window. A subtle sadness came over her, watching them all together and knowing that soon, they would fly the nest and find their own way in life. A tear slipped down her cheek, and she wiped it away before Darcy could see it. However, she had not been quick enough. He turned her into his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “What is it, Elizabeth?” he asked.

She could not help but smile at the depth of love in his voice. On her beloved husband’s lips, her first name sounded sweet indeed. “I am sad to think that we will be alone in this house one day. The children will soon be gone, and I cannot help but wonder if I have done enough for them as their mother to prepare them to take on the world.”

Darcy ran a finger down her cheek, then tucked a stray tendril of brunette hair behind her ear. Her brunette waves were showcasing more and more grey as of late. But she was not afraid of time marching on. To grow old was an honour and a privilege, one that she would not fear as long as they were together. “You have been the best of mothers to them. They will be just fine when they spread their wings and fly,” he comforted her. He leaned down and kissed her, long and passionately.

“You spoil me,” Elizabeth said. She placed her hands on his chest and gently pushed herself away. “Come and sit down. Georgiana has sent you a letter and I am eager to hear her latest news.”

“Just a moment,” Darcy said. “Are you sure you are well? I have not seen you so down since after James was born.”

Elizabeth took his hand. “That was only a case of mild melancholia. But this is different. I am happy that our children have grown up to be such fine young people. I am only a little sad that they will not always be with us.”

“It will not be so very different from having the boys away at school. I hope we may expect to have all the children visit often, even when they begin their lives with their own families.” Darcy followed her gaze as she watched the children. “And Amelia is only sixteen. She has a few years yet before it will be time for her London season.”

“Yes, but Henry — ” Elizabeth’s voice broke. “It is not that I am not proud, so please do not take it thus. I am only grieving the changes that will soon come to our little family. They are good changes, of course. I am only sad things cannot stay the same forever.”

“That is the nature of being a parent, I suppose. You raise them so they no longer need you.”

Elizabeth wiped at a tear. “Yes, I suppose it is. I can comfort myself with the fact that we will soon have grandchildren toddling around here. Pemberley will be alive with the sounds of baby’s coos and little feet.”

“What a delightful thought,” Darcy said, sighing as he wrapped his arms around her middle and rested his cheek against hers. “You will be a wonderful grandmother.”

They watched the children for a moment longer before Elizabeth remembered the letter from Georgiana. “Oh, goodness! I almost forgot. Georgiana’s letter. Come, let’s read it.”

She took his hand, and they went back to the sitting area. “What has she to say?” Elizabeth asked, eager to hear from her heart’s sister.

Darcy cleared his throat and had to retrieve his spectacles, as increasing age was beginning to catch up with his eyes. Elizabeth smiled, thinking that he was developing a very distinguished greying at the temples as of late. She reached up and stroked his hair, smiling as he broke the seal and opened the letter.

∞∞∞

Dearest Brother and Sister,

I hope this letter finds you well. Jonathan and I are settling into the lodgings of our new post here in Constantinople. Little Fitzwilliam sends along his regards and asks if you still keep his pony safe at the Pemberley stables. He longs to see you all and ride in the woods with you, Aunt Lizzy. Henrietta, Elizabette, and Eloise also send their love.

∞∞∞

Darcy looked up and scrunched up his nose. “How can Eloise send her love? She is but a year old.”

“Hush, if Georgiana says she sends her love, then she sends her love.” Elizabeth ran a finger over his creased brow. “You know that when we meet her, she will not be able to help but falling in love with her doting uncle.”

He captured her hand and kissed her palm. “And she will have you wrapped around her little finger as well.”

“Of course. What kind of aunt would I be if I did not allow such liberties?” Elizabeth smiled. Over the years, she had been true to her word to Jane and had spoilt all her little nieces and nephews. They had the means to lavish gifts on their kin, after all, and they did so with gusto. “Go on,” she urged gently.

Darcy nodded and continued reading.

∞∞∞

Elizabeth, you and my brother will be happy to know that when we come for Christmas, there will be a new addition to the family. Jonathan is hoping for another boy to even out our current brood of darling girls.

Our prayers and thoughts are always with you, dear family.

With love,

Georgiana

∞∞∞

Elizabeth covered her mouth and gave a little squeal of delight. “Oh, how wonderful!”

“What is so wonderful?” Amelia asked as she entered the parlour for tea. The boys trailed along behind her.

“We’ve had a letter from Aunt Georgiana. There is going to be another baby when they come for Christmas,” Elizabeth announced. “Come and sit down and tell me what you all have been up to this fine spring day.”

“Mama, we’ve been talking about going to London. Do you think we might go this winter?” Amelia asked, barely able to keep her excitement contained.

Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged curious glances. “You’re not due to have your London season for a few years, Amelia.”

“No, not for me. But Cousin Alice is having hers. And it would be such fun to be there when she comes out. Do not you agree, Papa?” Amelia got up and went to her father, wrapping her arms around his neck as she had done from the time she was a little girl.

Elizabeth gave him a stern look, but he could never hold firm when it came to Amelia’s pleadings. “My dear, you are young yet. I would not be in a hurry — ”

“Oh, Papa, I am not in a hurry to marry or grow up. I only want to be there when Alice comes out. It will be such fun, and I have never seen what a season is like. And what better way to prepare myself?” Amelia sat down between Elizabeth and Darcy, and Elizabeth brushed her palm over her daughter’s beautiful curls. Her daughter was very close to Jane’s eldest, and it would be important for them to see Alice safely out into society. She looked to her husband, who gave a deft nod, leaving the decision to her.

A slow smile crept onto her face. “Very well, we shall discuss it.”

Amelia jumped up with a squeal and hugged Elizabeth. “Oh, thank you, Mama!”

“I did not say yes. I said we would discuss it,” Elizabeth warned her daughter, though she thought wryly that she might as well have saved her breath. It was impossible to deny Amelia anything, dear as she was. Thankfully, the indulgence was not likely to be a dangerous one. Amelia had a level head, and they need not worry that she would get caught up in any mischief.

In later years, Elizabeth would come to call that winter in London something close to fate. Near the end of the season, Amelia was introduced to a dear friend of their Bingley relations, the son of one of Mr Bingley’s contacts. Mr Charles Mansfield was a dashing and brilliant young merchant, and as sensible and upright of character as any parent could wish. Young as Amelia was, the two had soon fallen head over heels in love. Three years later, they were married in the parish church on the Pemberley estate. Henry also found himself a bride among one of their neighbours to the east of Pemberley. And soon after, James also followed suit. By the time a decade had passed, all of their children had found love rather calmly and sensibly, through the introductions of friends and neighbours.

The Darcys could only be glad that it was so. Happy as they were together, many long years could not entirely erase the memory of Mr Wickham’s schemes and how close they had come to losing each other forever. If their children could find their partners in life through more conventional means, that was surely all to the good. Like all parents, they would much rather their children go through life smoothly and happily, without such painful complications.

Yet Elizabeth could regret none of the pain and confusion she had suffered as a victim of Mr Wickham’s schemes. Quite contrary to Mr Wickham’s intentions, they had shown her the real Mr Darcy: a man with human flaws, to be sure, but a man of character and fortitude, wit and compassion. The man she loved with all her heart.

And, as Elizabeth thought many times over the years, nothing could be more fortunate than that.

THE END