Without Undue Pride

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

June 1815

Pemberley

Darcy was certain there was no finer way to pass a summer afternoon than this. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley sketched on the lawn while Edward and Elizabeth played around them. The only thing that could improve the day was if the Bingleys and their children were here, a more common occurrence since they had decided more distance from Meryton was needed and lived in the next county.

Edward was almost four, a lively little boy who felt equal to talk to any adult on any subject that interested him. He had Fitzwilliam’s eyes and smile and Elizabeth’s colouring. He adored people. He loved to listen to his mother sing or sit on his father’s lap to hear him tell a story.

Darcy watched him play a chasing game with his mother. There seemed to be no rule: she would chase him until he was tired of it, then he would suddenly turn round to dash after her. Edward laughed in glee as she pretended to be frightened and allowed him to catch her, and the process repeated .

When Edward came running his way, Darcy set down his book and caught him in his arms. “Shall we catch Mamma?” he cried as he put Edward on his shoulders.

His son’s shrieks and giggles were answer enough as they took off at a run after Elizabeth, who was all too happy to be caught. Darcy lifted Edward down, who wrapped himself around her skirts. Elizabeth bent to kiss him before he ran off again.

Darcy would have resumed the game, but a flower in the garden distracted Edward. He picked it, and then went scampering to the blanket with the ladies, shouting that he had a gift for Aunt Georgiana.

“Can you believe he is four this autumn?” he asked Elizabeth as he put an arm around her.

She leant into him with a contented sigh. “We should have another one. Or two. Or three.”

At Elizabeth’s request, they had done their best to avoid the possibility of another child at the end of Edward’s baby days. Darcy had seen the need to keep her life easy in the years after what happened in 1811. And nothing shortened a woman’s days as much as her having too many confinements.

Darcy grinned to himself at the prospect of more children. “If you feel ready.”

He felt her nod. “I think I have been for a while, but I had such joy in it being just the three of us that I never felt the need to say it.” She turned in his arms to look at him. “But what if we cannot have more? What if I am like Lady Catherine or Lady Mary or any number of women who have one healthy baby and then can never have another?”

“Then we have Edward and are grateful for him. But I would rather be an optimist since it is too soon to assume anything. And there were over ten years between Georgiana and me, so we have reason to hope.”

They watched Edward pluck another flower from the garden to give to Georgiana, who seemed torn between showing her gratitude and wishing he would not harm the gardeners’ work. “I know you are right,” Elizabeth said, “but what happens to Pemberley if we cannot have other children?”

“In that case, we would leave everything to Edward.”

“I do not want that, Darcy,” she said firmly. “You will provide for him and establish him in whatever career he wants, and he will have a substantial legacy besides that. I do not want him to have Pemberley.”

He gave her a long look. “Well, I hope you do not mind if one of our sons or daughters inherits Pemberley,” he said drily.

She gave an indulgent smile. “Of course.” She looked around at the house and the grounds. “This is the place I am happiest. My fondest memories are here, and I would hate for all of it to be just another one of the Fitzwilliam family’s many estates. Your sister should inherit instead.”

Milton still did not have an heir, or even another daughter, in the nearly four years since his hateful attempt to coerce Elizabeth. “I do not think that will happen. Milton wants his own son to inherit it all.” He gave her an intent look. “We know what Milton is capable of. He will find some woman, willing or unwilling, to give him a son he can pass off as legitimate. There is no way Edward will be his heir after my uncle dies.”

He looked to be certain Georgiana and Mrs Annesley were too far away to hear. “Besides,” he whispered into her ear, “we are going to redouble efforts to have more children. I intend to be thorough.”

She still blushed as prettily as she did when they first married, but she met his eye. “I hope you are.”

They walked back to the others and saw Rebeckah approaching from the house. “Mrs Reynolds says that he is here.”

Everyone’s buoyant mood slowly sank. Georgiana and Mrs Annesley shared a glance and then rose and announced they had tired of the sun.

“Shall I take Edward into the house, at least for a while?” Rebeckah offered. As always, she addressed Elizabeth.

“No, he can stay. That is the point, is it not?” Elizabeth smiled as though trying to convince herself of the truth. Rebeckah curtseyed and followed the ladies into the house, and Edward sat on the blanket with his playthings.

“He is early,” Elizabeth finally said.

“He is eager. He doubted you would agree and does not want to lose his chance.”

Elizabeth looked at Edward, happily chattering to himself on the blanket. “Edward will never go to their home?” she asked hurriedly. “And he will never see Lord Milton?”

“Edward will only see his lordship here or at our house in town.”

“What about Lady Fitzwilliam? She is still obstinate; she still hates me.” Darcy shook his head. “Your uncle cannot say anything?—”

“I promise, if he dares speak against you or Fitzwilliam’s memory, I will forbid him from seeing Edward. My uncle knows how he must act unless he wants to continue to be excluded from Pemberley.” He took Elizabeth’s hands and kissed them. “I think he always wished to do more by you, but his wife’s anger and his own grief made him weak.”

“I have no need of his help,” she said darkly. “Not then, and not now. I managed without him before. And now I have you,” she said, squeezing his hands. “Edward is already a well-loved little boy. He wants for nothing. But the earl is still Edward’s grandfather.”

He hated the sadness in her eyes. “And you can still change your mind.”

Elizabeth looked at the house. “He is here.”

“I do not care,” he said firmly. “You decide who has access to your child, and under what conditions. If you want him gone, he is gone in an instant.”

She smiled. “There would be some social consequence to throwing out one of the wealthiest landowners in all of England, and an earl, and your uncle.”

“Nothing is more important to me than your happiness.” His lordship had done everything Darcy asked and agreed to every term to have this chance to see Edward, but he would throw his uncle out if that was what Elizabeth wanted. “I would not have presented his appeals to you if I did not think it could be good for Edward to know him, but that day does not have to be today. If you want to keep Edward from him and let Edward make that choice to meet when he is twenty-one, so be it.”

Elizabeth looked at Edward again. “No, I already agreed. He can meet Edward, but I am not ready to look him in the eye. I might vent my fury in a thousand curses and use all manner of injurious language.”

He smiled at her arch tone. “I doubt that very much.” She might have two or three years ago, but the memories of life in Spain and Milton’s cruelty had faded. However, he knew they could never be completely forgotten.

“I can send him away,” he repeated. “Or you do not need to see him today if you feel angry.”

Darcy felt some of the tension leave her. “Perhaps I am simply too sad to see him, to remember how he did not come to our wedding, and how he neglected me in Spain, and how unkind his wife is to me.”

“He knows that he owes you an apology, and his giving it to you is a condition of him having access to Edward.”

Elizabeth bent to kiss Edward, a gesture he cheerfully and noisily returned. “After he has seen Edward, the two of you can find me.”

She went into the house, and Darcy sat with his son until he heard footsteps. Lord Fitzwilliam strode across the lawn with the energy and vigour of a man of thirty rather than over sixty. Tall, stout, and active, it was clear he had been anticipating this meeting. Darcy rose to stop him several yards away. They would speak before he introduced Edward to him.

His uncle nodded to Darcy, but his gaze was on Edward. “He looks like my boys when they were young,” he murmured. “He has his mother’s hair and nose, though.” Lord Fitzwilliam gave him a pained look. “He is nearly four. You kept him from me for so long.”

“That was your own doing,” he said in a low voice so as not to alarm Edward. “I told you what Milton propositioned. You know exactly what he did to Elizabeth, to that poor child. They were there for days!” he hissed. “His actions, his intentions were cruel and vile, and I will have nothing to do with any man who would debase a woman and keep a child from its mother. You did nothing to censure Milton.”

His uncle set his shoulders. “There was no proof of his intended scheme.”

“No proof beyond my word, beyond my wife’s word.”

Darcy saw in his uncle’s eyes that he knew the truth. “I believe you. But Milton is still my son and heir.”

“What about Fitzwilliam’s son?” he said, pointing to the little boy on the blanket. “You left them in Spain to die and then did nothing to aid them after Elizabeth clawed her way home.”

“I have many regrets on that score,” he said, looking down in shame. “I have much to atone for. Will Mrs Darcy see me?”

“Will the first words out of your mouth be ‘I am exceedingly sorry’?”

“Yes,” he said, and Darcy knew that he meant it.

“Then she will see you, and it is by her grace that you may meet Edward.”

He looked down when he felt two arms wrap around his leg. “Papa, who this?”

“He calls you ‘Papa’?” his uncle asked.

Darcy bristled under the disapproving tone. “Would you have him call me ‘sir’?” he muttered so Edward could not hear. “I am the only father he knows.” In a louder and more cheerful voice, he said, “This is your grandfather, Lord Fitzwilliam.”

With a touch to his shoulder, Edward remembered to bow. “Are you his papa?” he asked, pointing to Darcy.

“No, I am Mr Darcy’s uncle. Your father was my son, so that makes me your grandpapa.”

Edward looked at Darcy with a confused frown. “Remember,” Darcy said gently, “you have two.”

“I have two papas.” He held out two fingers carefully. “The first one died,” he said in a solemn little voice. He pointed to Darcy with a smile. “This is my second papa. Are you my second grandpapa? ”

Lord Fitzwilliam gave Darcy a questioning look. “He knows Mr Bennet as his grandfather.” The Bennets may be poorly behaved, but Darcy never doubted their affection for Edward.

“Yes, I am your grandfather also, just like Mr Bennet is. And”—he cleared his throat—“I would very much like to know you, Edward.”

Edward studied him for a moment. “I have toy soldiers.” He pointed to his toys on the blanket. “My first papa was a soldier.”

Lord Fitzwilliam smiled. “May I see them?”

Darcy sat a little apart and watched an adoring grandfather play toy soldiers with his grandson.

Elizabeth looked up from reading when Darcy came into their parlour after parting from his uncle. She had taken her leave earlier, allowing the men to exchange any further words Darcy felt were necessary without her present. “Lord Fitzwilliam might have stayed the night,” she said as he sat next to her.

“I think he did not want to trespass further on your kindness. It surprised him he got a seat at your table,” he added, smiling.

“His apology was gracious,” she said, telling the truth. “I will reserve further judgment until I see his improved behaviour.”

“He knows to await your invitation. You decide if and when he visits Edward again.”

She was overwhelmingly grateful to have Darcy there with her at the end of every day, always on her side. “I am not resentful, you know. He wants a relationship with his grandson, and it would be good for Edward to know more of his family.”

“Provided that family treat you and him, and Fitzwilliam’s memory, with the respect they deserve. Lady Fitzwilliam has not come to the same decision as my uncle has, and I will not have her anywhere near either of you. But the decision to allow my uncle access to Edward falls to you, and he knows it must be earned.”

Elizabeth smiled. “Thank you. Another man might have said that since he was Edward’s guardian, he decides if his wealthy and influential titled uncle had access to their son.”

She saw the pleased look in his eye to have Edward called their son, and not just hers.

“You would not have chosen such a man for your husband. You nearly did not choose me ,” he added wryly.

“Thank goodness you had no doubts. I am only sorry I took so long to choose you.”

She watched his expression grow thoughtful. “I had some doubts, but not regarding my feelings for you. In marrying a widow, I had to consider whether I was in possession of as many good qualities as your former husband. I loved you and knew you loved me, but he was benevolent, good-natured, lively. He would have been a good father to Edward.”

More than anything, she wanted to put him at ease on that count. “You have some qualities that are the same, and some that are very different, but you must never doubt the value or amount of your good qualities.”

“As I watched Edward play with my uncle, I had to wonder about what he would grow to become. Do you think there will be any of my influence on Edward’s character?”

Darcy was far more worried about that than he had a reason to be. “Children catch the manners of their parents. You are his father. He studies people the way you do. He watches them and considers them.”

“But then he decides they are worth speaking to. I often choose differently,” he said, smiling.

Elizabeth laughed. “Do you think you would have chosen me had we met before I married your cousin, if you knew me as Lizzy Bennet?” she asked curiously.

“I think at that time of my life,” he said slowly, “I was too proud to value you as I should have. Something had to make me take the full measure of my faults and my character before we could have been together. Besides, we would not have Edward had you not married another first. ”

As she leant into him, she asked, “What would he say to see us together, and happy as we are?”

“Oh, he would tease me mercilessly,” he said, smiling the same fond smile he always did when he remembered his cousin. “‘Darcy, you would not trouble yourself to find a bride so you had to have mine?’ ‘Darcy, were you so reluctant to form a new acquaintance that you just picked my widow to be your wife?’” He laughed. “No one but you spoke so openly to me or sported with me so much.”

“He would have been honest enough to say that to you, but he was not that open with me. He never confided in me the way you do. We never talked or debated the way you and I talk.”

“You were na?ve, and he was impetuous, and the war had an impact,” he said, taking hold of her hand. “Had he lived, you would have chosen to be happy together.”

“What we have feels so different, and yet I loved him and I love you.”

Darcy turned on the sofa to look into her eyes. “He loved you and thought you were perfect. I love you knowing your weaknesses as well as your strengths.”

Darcy told her the truth and loved her no matter what. This was the deepest part of no longer being alone.

She wanted to kiss him, hold him close and think about the here and now and their bright future, but Darcy still spoke about the past.

“He was painfully honest with me, too. He would have thought me too proud to marry a woman with neither fortune nor connexions, and he might have been right. His criticism, and his death, made me reconsider everything. I am not as proud as I might have been if not for his influence. I might not have appealed to you without his reproofs.”

She drew up her skirts and straddled his lap, and he stopped talking. Darcy’s pupils dilated, blazing with desire. She held his face in her hands, pressing her lips against his in a searing kiss.

“I find you very appealing, and I admire how free from pride you are.”

He gave her a look of disbelief. “I am not without pride.” He then turned her by the chin to kiss along her jaw. A tremor of pleasure shivered down her when his lips and tongue lingered on the pulse point at the base of her neck.

“You have a proper pride, certainly,” she corrected, a little breathless. “A little pride of family, of abilities, is natural. I even give you leave to be proud of your appearance because you are very good-looking.”

“Am I?” He pushed up her skirts and ran his hands along the bare skin of her thighs. “Convince me you find me appealing.”

She brought her lips to his neck, then behind his ear. She smiled when he gasped as she teased his sensitive skin with her teeth and whispered into his ear what she wanted him to do. He plunged his hand into her hair to kiss her, his insistent mouth sending wild tremors of desire along her nerves.

It was a fierce embrace, with laboured breathing and urgent, exploring hands.

His breath came in short, shallow pants. “Should we go to our chamber?”

She answered by fumbling to unfasten the placket of his breeches and shifting her hips. He took in a ragged breath as she sank onto him. Her hands grasped his shoulders, back arching, her hips rocking into his while he watched her with rapt desire across his face.

She knew he liked her near-total control of their encounter, but then Darcy slid his hands beneath her thighs, his hands gripping tightly as he lifted his hips to drive into her, giving her exactly what she needed. She met him, thrust for thrust, circling her hips and taking him deeper.

Darcy threw back his head with a groan, losing himself completely inside of her as her cries echoed off the parlour walls.

Elizabeth rested her head against his shoulder as he stroked a hand down her back.

“You can also be very proud of that,” she murmured into his neck, smiling as he chuckled.

For a while they sat together, languid and satisfied, until Elizabeth finally added, “I too had to reconsider my pride, you know.” She had been too proud of her ability to survive alone without even considering if she truly had to.

“Not as much as I needed to,” Darcy said drowsily.

“Love got the better of my improper pride. I am happier with you than I would have been alone.”

Darcy tilted her chin, forcing her to sit up and look at him. “I will never disappoint you or make you feel that you misplaced your trust in me.”

She smiled, grateful that she had been able to get the better of herself and overcome her fears. “We will occasionally frustrate one another, but nothing will change the connexion between us or how much I love you.”

“I never told you,” he said carefully, more alert now, “but I felt something for you sooner than I should have. Not love, or even lust. An attraction, perhaps?”

“When?” she asked, curious. “When did you feel that connexion between us? Was it an instant, or did it build slowly?”

“Both,” he said, gently kissing her as she moved to sit next to him. “There was a moment I remember being struck with a spark of awareness for you, but I did not want to admit it. It was too soon for such a feeling. But after you returned home to England, the duty I felt toward you gradually grew into friendship and fondness.”

A memory pressed on her. “That moment, was it at my wedding? When you handed me the marriage lines in the registry?”

His jaw fell open. “Yes. You could not have felt it too.”

“It was not love or desire then, but I was mindful of you.” She smiled at his astonished expression. “There was a connexion. I thought it was because you were his best friend and the only one to support us. What matters is that when I returned to England and met you, that bond grew all summer long. By the time we got to Pemberley, I felt so much attraction between us by then that I thought you must have felt it too.”

“I did, but I thought all the love was on my side.”

Elizabeth pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “I loved you then, distrustful, stubborn, and prideful as I was. ”

“You were frightened, and who could blame you?” Darcy said fondly. He then grinned and gave her a teasing look. “But was I worth the trouble of the chase? Or do you sometimes wish you had escaped the bondage of a husband and lived independently?”

She laughed and kissed him again. “I am delighted I trusted you and fell in love with a worthy man.”

The End