Epilogue
Lady Catherine learnt of her daughter’s marriage when Mrs Jenkinson, the lady’s companion, burst shrieking into the drawing room, crying of ruin and disgrace.
Unable to extract a coherent word from her, Lady Catherine swept upstairs herself—and upon finding Colonel Fitzwilliam in her daughter’s bedchamber in nothing but his shirtsleeves and breeches, promptly fainted dead away.
When she revived, Anne, beaming with a confidence hitherto unknown, gleefully announced that she and her cousin had married that very morning—and then duly consummated the union.
The news prompted Lady Catherine to swoon once more.
On her second recovery, it was evident that she had suffered an attack of some severity.
From that hour she grew listless and feeble of mind.
Mrs Jenkinson became Lady Catherine’s new companion, caring for her until she died two years later. She never learnt of Darcy’s marriage.
Meanwhile, Mr and Mrs Darcy passed their first days of marriage alone in London.
For a short while, they kept the news from the papers, wishing for a little peace before public notice descended.
A letter from Colonel Fitzwilliam soon reached them, detailing all that had occurred at Rosings.
They could not decide whether to feel relief that Lady Catherine no longer posed an obstacle, or sorrow at her decline.
Their fortnight of solitude was one of perfect happiness.
Elizabeth received daily notes from Miss Lane, who reported that Elinor thrived at Everdene House.
When they at last returned for her, the little girl ran into their arms and greeted them as mama and papa.
Darcy, eyes brimming with tears, hugged his new daughter tightly before helping her into the carriage.
Elizabeth’s first meeting with Georgiana proved everything Darcy had hoped.
The two formed a swift and genuine affection.
Elizabeth’s quiet assurance steadied Georgiana’s gentler nature, and the younger woman’s open delight at gaining both a sister and a niece in one day filled Darcy with gratitude for the family they had become.
At Longbourn, the tidings of their union caused general astonishment and delight. Jane and Bingley were all joy and congratulation. Miss Bingley, however, could not disguise her vexation, pouting so openly that Elizabeth marvelled she could still imagine herself destined for Pemberley.
Jane’s wedding was held soon after, splendid in every respect.
The Darcys departed after the wedding breakfast, taking three leisurely days to reach Margate, pausing often for Elinor’s comfort.
Elizabeth did not mind; she was content to observe her husband’s gentleness, patience, and affection towards their little girl.
The holiday proved everything she had hoped for—and more.
In the years that followed, Elizabeth’s share of trials was not small.
At times, memories rose unbidden to trouble her peace, yet she had grown ever stronger.
With Darcy beside her, she met all things with courage.
A year after their marriage, she gave birth to a son, Bennet Richard Henry Darcy, a spirited child adored by both parents—and by Elinor, who soon asked when she might have a sister.
Two years later, Elizabeth obliged her with the birth of Jane Elizabeth Anne Darcy, and two years after that came Marcus Fitzwilliam Thomas Darcy.
A decade passed before the final member of their family arrived—a daughter, Suzanne Frances Margaret Darcy—whose coming completed their happiness.
Their home was lively, their affection constant, and all who knew them spoke of the true felicity of the Darcys.
When Georgiana turned eighteen, Elizabeth assisted her through her first season.
Poised and graceful—as fair and fresh as an English rose in bloom—she soon drew the admiration of peers and gentlemen alike.
Yet Georgiana chose to wait for affection rather than ambition.
In time, she accepted the hand of Mr Andrew Barton, the second son of an earl, who had already established his own fortune and acquired a thriving estate before seeking her hand.
Elizabeth often jested that one advantage of Georgiana’s choice was Mr Barton’s pleasing proximity to Pemberley.
Jane and Bingley purchased an estate a half-day’s journey from Pemberley.
Their first child, Elizabeth Frances, was born two years after their marriage, followed by two sons, Charles Timothy—who inherited Longbourn after Mr Bennet’s death—and Thomas Harold—lively boys born thirteen months apart, full of mischief and health.
Suzanne and Henry Blythe, too, enlarged their family. Arthur soon welcomed a younger brother, Henry Blythe the second, a delight to both parents; and two years later, Suzanne gave birth to a daughter, Rebecca Elizabeth.
The Blythes remained closely connected with the Darcys through the years.
Their children were reared almost as one family, for the two households spent much time in each other’s company.
Lady Matlock became as a grandmother to both broods.
She doted on her grandchildren and was a frequent guest at Pemberley.
Colonel Fitzwilliam, to his parents’ delight, resigned his commission.
He and Anne had two daughters. The elder, Anne Amelia, came to Rosings Park in time, having inherited after the passing of her parents, who long enjoyed prosperity and affection in their marriage.
Their youngest, Cordelia Georgiana, married the son of an earl.
Though her dowry of fifty thousand pounds drew many suitors, she chose for love and was happy.
The fortunes of the rest of the Bennet family continued to prosper.
The diamond mine yielded profit for many years, and when at last it seemed exhausted, the miners discovered other precious stones and metals that further enriched the coffers of its two investors.
Mr and Mrs Bennet lived to enjoy the fruits of that success in comfort at Longbourn.
Mrs Bennet never tired of boasting of her daughters’ excellent marriages, while her husband, grown quieter with the years, often reflected with gratitude that what had once been the source of his greatest sorrow had, through Providence, become the means of their family’s security.
In time, Mary and Mr Collins eventually received the living at Longbourn; yet, with Lady Catherine no longer amongst the living, they chose to remain at Hunsford, where the parsonage was the larger and more comfortable of the two.
Mr Collins appointed a capable curate to serve the parish at Longbourn, and the arrangement suited all parties admirably.
Kitty and Lydia each enjoyed a season in town.
The elder, ever the more reserved of the pair, waited until Lydia could be presented, and together they took London by storm.
Kitty soon attracted a retired sea captain, a gentleman of fortune and distinction, who after a thorough examination by Mr Bennet and his discerning sons-in-law, was deemed worthy of her hand.
He purchased an estate in Surrey, where, on their marriage, Lydia joined them.
They were blessed with three children: Nathan, Timothy, and Lydia Marie.
It was while residing with her sister that Lydia met Mr. John Norrington, a sober, thoughtful man possessed of an estate worth five thousand a year.
His reserve balanced her vivacity, and after a happy courtship he proposed, and, to everyone’s general astonishment, Lydia accepted.
Mr Bennet’s enquiries into the gentleman’s character proved satisfactory, and they were married that summer.
They later welcomed four children: Arthur, James, Maria, and Rose.
***
Years later, Elizabeth watched her daughter Elinor as the maids arranged her hair.
She will be gone after to-day, she thought wistfully, but I could not have wished for a better husband for my child.
Arthur Godfrey, Earl of Westland—the very boy who had once cherished a tendre for Elizabeth’s youngest sister—had grown into a capable, confident gentleman.
He had managed his earldom with ease since coming into his majority, and with his mother and stepfather nearby, he was never without sound counsel.
Now, at eight-and-twenty, he was to marry Elizabeth’s eldest daughter.
Elinor Suzanne Fiennes Darcy was a bride most worthy of him.
Her dowry was considerable: an estate of her own and a trust that had flourished under prudent management since her father’s death.
Elizabeth would cease contributing to it once her daughter wed, setting aside funds instead for her younger children.
Yet it was not Elinor’s fortune that had drawn Arthur to her—affection had long preceded it.
Their friendship, nurtured from childhood, had deepened into a lasting love.
Suzanne had been more delighted than she could express. “Now we will be relations in truth,” she told Elizabeth. “You are as good as a sister already!”
“Is it time to go down?” Elinor rose and turned towards her mother. Her dark curls were arranged with care, jewelled pins glinting amidst the glossy locks.
“’Tis time,” Elizabeth confirmed. “My dearest Ellie, you look beautiful.” She kissed her daughter’s cheek, taking care not to disturb a single curl. “I do not know how your father will manage giving you away.”
They descended together. Elizabeth noted the trunks stacked by the door, waiting to be loaded into the Westland’s carriage and felt a pang of mingled pride and melancholy, and she drew a deep breath. Elinor would be happy—of that she was certain.
Darcy was waiting as they emerged, and after handing his ladies into the carriage, followed them within. The other children were already at the church, which left ample space for their skirts. Their eldest son was sixteen—how swiftly the years had flown!