Mr Darcy’s Legacy

Epilogue

T he night of the Season’s ball at the Duke of Blandford’s residence finally arrived, and it was said that an invitation to the event was the most valuable in London society. Mr and Mrs Darcy wanted all their family to benefit from that privilege, and their guest list included the Bennets, Jane and Bingley, and most surprisingly, the Hursts and Miss Bingley. It was an intelligent ruse on Darcy’s part—he told them that Elizabeth added their names to the list, letting them see that from that moment on, Elizabeth could remove them in the future. A small revenge that brought smiles to Jane’s face as she still feared her future sisters-in-law.

The Duke, Darcy, and the ladies were the last to arrive, descending the grand staircase side by side. Darcy had Elizabeth on his arm while the duke escorted Georgiana.

Midway down the staircase, the duke paused and, with an air of quiet authority, introduced his guests:

“Mr and Mrs Darcy, newly wedded, and Miss Darcy are my guests of honour this evening, in whose honour I have invited you all to this ball.”

Even from a distance, the resemblance was staggering, and an involuntary murmur moved through the crowd. The duke nodded in a silent confession while Darcy offered the secret with a smile that said all about his happiness as a married man and about having found a father eager to let London know about their relationship.

Stunning in her gold and grey ball gown, Elizabeth coloured a little, just enough to improve her complexion. Darcy wondered whether the guests would be graceful towards his beautiful wife. However, it was soon evident that he need not be concerned about his future wife but rather for his sister Georgiana, whose beauty and graciousness became instantly a battlefield for her favours.

Louis, the Marquess of Brimpsfield, was waiting downstairs for his father to arrive with the guests of honour, an evident proof that he regarded his father’s decision with a benevolent eye. He was blond and tall with intense blue eyes that fell on Georgiana and remained on her, incapable of understanding anything else happening around him. They had met a day before, but both seemed unaware of their previous meeting, suddenly overwhelmed as though they were seeing each other for the first time, and only minutes after Georgiana put her delicate ball slipper on the floor in front of him, they fell in love. It was as if fate were playing a delicious game neither could challenge. Louis invited her to dance, and when Georgiana was in danger of being asked by other gentlemen, he led her in haste from the ballroom into the vast greenhouse where nobody could see them kissing, even before many words were uttered between them.

There were some troubling emotions when they decided to marry. Though they never feared the duke would be against their marriage, the archbishop of Canterbury might have concerns due to the intricate family relationship. Fortunately, after some consultation, his answer was favourable for them, and Georgiana married Louis, the Marquess of Brimpsfield, in Saint Paul’s Cathedral while all of London agreed it was the most beautiful wedding in years. The bride received the ring her mother had received many years before. She was so delighted to be a marchioness that she insisted the family address her as Lady Brimpsfield for at least a month, from breakfast to dinner.

The duke had at first been shocked by this incredible love story, which so closely resembled his own. Yet, in secret, he told himself that, in a way, fate had returned to him something of what it had taken away thirty years before—a son—and he hoped, many grandchildren, whom he would see growing up.

The duke was happy for the present blessedness. Still, deep in his soul, he celebrated Darcy and Louis’s future children, who were, through this curious twist of fate, both his grandchild and Anne’s.

∞∞∞

In the end, only one problem remained to be solved. In an ideal world, Darcy ought to have been Marchioness of Brimpsfield. And if the past could not be altered, the present could bring justice to his firstborn. Nearly two years had passed since Darcy’s marriage to Elizabeth when he was summoned to court.

Accompanied by his father, visibly overwhelmed, he was informed of the Regent’s decision to create a Marquessate of Pemberley.

“How have you obtained such an honour?” asked Darcy, still shocked by the news, the duke as they rode in the carriage from the Regent’s palace to his own house, where Elizabeth awaited him anxiously; the duke had not revealed the reason for his summon.

The duke smiled pleasantly, “His Royal Highness and I were born in the same year and raised together. He was witness to the tragedy orchestrated against me by my father and his own. This is but a small reparation for an immeasurable loss.”

The ceremony, however, had to be postponed for several months to allow Elizabeth time to recover from the birth of their first child, a son christened William.

But on a splendid summer’s day in 1814, Darcy and Elizabeth, accompanied by the Duke and Lady Edwina, attended the Ennoblement Ceremony for the Marquess of Pemberley at the Court of King George III. It was a grand and solemn affair, conducted with the full weight of royal tradition. The ennoblement ceremony took place in the Throne Room of Carlton House, where Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth walked for the first time, deeply moved by the significance of the moment. It followed a century-old ritual that combined chivalric rites with the pomp of the royal court represented by the Regent, dressed in ceremonial attire. The air resonated with the triumphant call of trumpets while the persistent fragrance of incense conquered the hall, deepening the sense of awe.

Darcy was escorted into the royal presence by the Garter Principal King of Arms, Sir Isaac Heard, and senior heralds of the College of Arms. He was attired in full court dress, which included an elaborately embroidered coat and silk breeches. As the procession advanced toward the Prince Regent, seated upon a gilded throne, the assembled nobles, ministers, and courtiers fell silent.

The Lord Chancellor unrolled the letters patent and read aloud the official royal decree confirming the new Marquessate:

“By the grace of His Majesty King George the Third, and upon the advice of our most trusted and noble counsellors, We do hereby advance and elevate Our right trusty and well-beloved Fitzwilliam Darcy to the rank and dignity of a Marquess of Our United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, to be known henceforth as the Most Honourable the Marquess of Pemberley, with all privileges, precedence, and dignities thereto belonging.”

At this moment, the Regent rose and took the Sword of State. He lightly tapped Darcy on each shoulder with a solemn air, a symbolic bestowal of noble responsibility.

Following this, the heralds of the College of Arms stepped forward, bearing the symbols of his new rank: the patent of nobility, a coronet of a Marquess—its circlet of silver-gilt adorned with alternating strawberry leaves and pearls—and a crimson robe lined with ermine, ceremoniously draped over the new Marquess’s shoulders, signifying his new station.

Then, the Regent spoke the final words of elevation, “Rise, Most Honourable Marquess of Pemberley, and take your place among the peers of our realm.”

The newly created Marquess stood, bowed to the Regent, and was formally acknowledged by the court. Following the ceremony, he and his wife were led from the Throne Room in a formal procession, the fellow peers offering their recognition of his new rank.

∞∞∞

That evening, a celebratory banquet was held in the duke’s house, attended by fellow nobles, friends and family.

“And Elizabeth?” cried Jane when the duke finished to recount the ceremony. “Was she not made a Marchioness?” Mrs Bingley was indignant.

The duke smiled slightly and spoke with ceremonious gravity, “The wife of the newly created Marquess of Pemberley became Marchioness of Pemberley immediately upon his ennoblement. She was not separately ennobled, yet she acquired all social privileges and rank appropriate to her new station.”

“And?” asked Mr Bennet, proving that he, who was usually indifferent to matters of the real world, had nevertheless been deeply moved by the ennoblement of his son-in-law, whom he loved as a son, and of his adored daughter, who might have even become a princess so gracious she was.

The duke looked with much sympathy to Mr Bennet; they had become good friends in the last two years, sharing a huge passion for books and a vivid interest for grandchildren.

“Mrs Darcy,” the duke said, “acknowledged her husband’s elevation with a deep curtsy before the Regent, and in this singular instance, His Royal Highness himself placed the coronet upon Elizabeth’s head and the crimson robe lined with ermine upon her shoulders, a mark of the closeness he bore to the new Marquess and Marchioness of Pemberley.”

He looked around the dinner table with immense joy. On this occasion, the dining hall had been abandoned in favour of the grand ballroom of his house, for beyond his large family, a host of friends had gathered, all eager to bear witness to this triumph for the Darcy family.

The duke rose to offer a toast, and in the candlelit splendour of the ballroom, he spoke with evident emotion:

“I had wished to say that today marks the conclusion of a tale that has spanned more than thirty years, yet that would be inaccurate. To my eternal joy, Lady Anne has bestowed upon us this priceless gift—the gift of becoming a family… and so, our story continues.”

End