Epilogue
Elizabeth
Pemberley, Derbyshire
25th June 1814
T he late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the gardens of Pemberley, where Elizabeth sat across from Lady Catherine de Bourgh at a wrought-iron table, the delicate china tea set between them. The air carried the scent of blooming roses, and although the atmosphere was serene, tension simmered beneath the surface. Lady Catherine took a sip of her tea, her sharp gaze lingering on Elizabeth.
“Well,” Lady Catherine began, setting her cup down with a measured clink. “I must say, this situation with Collins and Charlotte… an annulment.” She sniffed disapprovingly. “I never imagined I would be placed in such a position, having to assist him. It is quite distasteful.”
Elizabeth kept her expression calm, though she was quite used to Lady Catherine’s dramatics. “Indeed, it was an unexpected turn of events,” she replied, “but surely you must agree that an annulment is far preferable to a divorce. No scandal lingers, and everyone can move forward without disgrace. It was, ultimately, the more respectable option. And nobody found out about your nephew’s involvement.”
Lady Catherine pursed her lips, considering Elizabeth’s words. “You are right, of course. A divorce would have been intolerable. And while I am displeased with Richard and Charlotte for putting me in this position, at least the situation has been resolved with some dignity.” She exhaled sharply, then eyed Elizabeth thoughtfully, “You handled this well. It seems you have some sense of propriety after all.”
Elizabeth allowed herself a small smile, resting a hand on her rounded stomach. “I simply wanted to do what was best for all involved. Scandals rarely end well.”
Lady Catherine’s gaze softened briefly as she glanced at Elizabeth’s expectant form. “Of course they do not. They are difficult to remedy. You did the right thing, remaining by Darcy’s side and ensuring the continuation of the family line. An heir is paramount.” She nodded approvingly. “I commend you for your diligence.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said with a smile, as she placed one hand on her rounded stomach, though her tone was more amused than gratified. She had learned over the years that Lady Catherine’s praise, however condescending, was best accepted with grace.
Lady Catherine leaned back in her chair, her voice softening just slightly. “How is Georgiana?”
“Georgiana has gone to Longbourn,” Elizabeth explained, “to assist Kitty with preparations for her wedding to Mr Purvis. She’s enjoying the bustle of it all.”
Lady Catherine arched an eyebrow. “All the Bennet girls seem to be making sensible matches now.” She paused, a glint of calculation in her eyes. “Except perhaps Mary. Has she considered Mr Collins? He will soon be free, and she may benefit from the stability he offers.”
Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but the memory of Mary’s admiration for Mr Collins during his first visit to Longbourn made her hesitate. Mary had once fawned over him, captivated by his sermons and his serious demeanour. Perhaps, Elizabeth thought reluctantly, it wasn’t such an absurd idea after all.
“I’m not certain,” Elizabeth finally said, choosing her words carefully. “But I suppose Mary’s sensibilities might align with Mr Collins more than I once believed.”
Lady Catherine nodded, satisfied. “Well, it would be a wise match for her. I shall have to keep my eye on that situation.” She stood abruptly, brushing invisible crumbs from her lap. “I’ve had my tea, and now I believe I shall rest. Pemberley’s air is refreshing, but one mustn’t overindulge in the outdoors.”
Elizabeth rose with her. “Of course, Lady Catherine. I hope you will be comfortable.”
Lady Catherine gave a curt nod before retreating into the house, leaving Elizabeth to exhale in relief. Moments later, her husband approached from the path leading towards the stables, his eyes lighting up as they met hers.
“Escaped at last?” he teased, offering his arm.
Elizabeth laughed, slipping her hand into his. “Indeed. Shall we walk?”
They strolled through the gardens in companionable silence, their footsteps crunching lightly over the gravel path. The scent of lavender and roses filled the air, mingling with the distant murmur of a nearby brook.
After a while, Fitzwilliam glanced down at her with a soft smile. “You handled my aunt remarkably well. I’m impressed.”
Elizabeth smiled. “I have had much practice. Besides, it wasn’t so difficult this time. She even praised me.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Aunt Catherine? Praising you? I’m not sure I believe it.”
“Believe it,” Elizabeth said with a chuckle. “Though I suspect it was more about the heir than me.” She smiled, feeling the flutter of their child moving. “Still, progress is progress.”
Fitzwilliam’s hand covered hers, his touch warm and grounding. “You have brought so much light to Pemberley. To me. I never imagined this kind of happiness.”
Elizabeth stopped, turning to face him fully. “And you have given me more than I ever dreamed possible. Love, security, a home…” She hesitated, then added with a playful glint in her eye, “Fitzwilliam, I love you. I hope you know how much.”
“And I, my darling, love you.”
They stood together as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the estate. In that perfect moment, all the trials and tribulations of their journey seemed to melt away, leaving only their love and the promise of the future.
Hand in hand, they turned back towards Pemberley, ready to face whatever came next—together.
THE END
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