Epilogue
The carriage turned onto the final approach to Pemberley House, and Elizabeth felt her breath catch in her throat.
She had anticipated this moment for weeks now, ever since their wedding day, but the reality before her exceeded all imagination.
The estate spread before them like something from a dream, the great house rising majestically from verdant parkland, its pale stone glowing warm in the afternoon sun.
“Oh,” she breathed, her hand finding Darcy’s upon the seat between them.
He squeezed her fingers gently, and she felt rather than saw his smile. “Does it meet with your approval, Mrs Darcy?”
She could not speak for a moment, could only stare as they drew nearer.
The house was everything she had imagined and more—handsome without ostentation, grand without being imposing.
It sat nestled among the hills as if it had grown there naturally, belonging to the landscape as much as the ancient oaks that dotted the grounds.
“It is beautiful,” she managed at last, her voice thick with emotion. “More beautiful than I could have conceived.”
Their arrival at Pemberley had been delayed far longer than either had wished. They had married in the first week of July in that cheerful double ceremony with Jane and Bingley, a day full of joy for all.
Alas, the day after their nuptials, Lady Catherine had died.
The proper observances had required them to remain in town, and though Darcy had chafed at the delay, Elizabeth had been grateful for the time.
It had allowed her to grow accustomed to being a wife before she must also become the mistress of this great estate.
Now, as the carriage rolled to a stop before the entrance, she felt her heart begin to race with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. Georgiana, who had come to Pemberley with them, looked at her anxiously, and she tried to smile to reassure her new sister.
“Are you well?” Darcy asked softly, his dark eyes searching her face with concern.
“Quite well,” she assured him, though her voice wavered slightly. “Only…it is rather overwhelming, is it not?”
“You need not be overwhelmed,” he said firmly, bringing her hand to his lips. “You are simply coming home.”
Home. The word settled over her like a warm cloak, and she drew strength from it as a footman opened the carriage door and Darcy descended, turning to hand the ladies down.
The household had assembled to greet their new mistress, a sea of expectant faces that made Elizabeth’s courage falter for just a moment. But then Mrs Reynolds, the housekeeper, stepped forwards with a warm smile that immediately put her at ease.
“Welcome to Pemberley, Mrs Darcy,” she said, and the genuine pleasure in her voice was unmistakable. “We are all very happy to have you here at last.”
Elizabeth returned the smile, feeling some of her nervousness ease. “Thank you, Mrs Reynolds. I am very happy to be here.”
The introductions that followed were a blur of names and faces, but Elizabeth did her best to commit them all to memory.
Darcy stood close beside her throughout, his presence a steadying anchor, and she felt a rush of gratitude for his silent support, as well as that of Georgiana who offered the occasional squeeze of her hand in reassurance.
When at last the formalities were complete, and Georgiana had gone off to her own rooms, Darcy turned to Elizabeth with a questioning look. “Would you like to see the house? Or perhaps you wish to rest after our journey?”
“I am not at all tired,” she said quickly, though in truth she was exhausted from days of travel. But her curiosity was far stronger than her fatigue. “I should very much like to see my new home.”
His face lit with pleasure, and he offered her his arm. “Then allow me to give you the tour.”
They walked through room after magnificent room, each more beautiful than the last. The gallery with its portraits of Darcy ancestors, the music room with its fine pianoforte, the library that made Elizabeth’s fingers itch to explore its many shelves.
Darcy narrated as they went, sharing stories and memories, his voice full of love for his ancestral home.
“My mother used to sit in this window seat,” he said when they reached the morning room, a lovely chamber that caught the eastern light. “She said it was her favourite spot in the whole house.”
Elizabeth moved to the window and looked out over the gardens, imagining the late Mrs Darcy sitting in this very spot.
The weight of responsibility settled more heavily upon her shoulders.
How could she possibly fill the shoes of the woman who had been mistress here before her?
The woman who had raised such a man as Darcy, who had created a home so full of warmth and grace?
“It is lovely,” she said softly, but she could hear the uncertainty in her own voice.
Darcy came to stand behind her, his hands gentle upon her shoulders. “What is it?”
“I wonder if I shall be…adequate to this. Your mother, by all accounts, was an extraordinary woman. Everyone speaks of her with such reverence. And I am simply—”
“You are simply the woman I love,” he interrupted firmly, turning her to face him.
“The woman who loved me in the absence of knowing about all of this. The woman who managed to make Anne de Bourgh tease and the Earl of Matlock smile. To say nothing of earning the approbation of my aunt, rest her soul.”
Elizabeth smiled up at him, encouraged by his words.
“You win over everyone you meet, which is a vast relief to me, as I generally offend most people I meet.”
“That is not true!”
“I fear it is.” He drew back enough to look into her eyes. “You are everything I could ever have wanted, and now I can only hope that I can be what you want as well.” He kissed her forehead gently. “Come, let me show you the gardens. I think you will find them much to your liking.”
They descended through the house and out into the sunshine, and Elizabeth felt her spirits lift as they strolled along the gravel paths.
The gardens at Pemberley were indeed glorious, a perfect blend of formal landscaping and natural beauty.
There were roses in abundance, their perfume heavy on the warm air, and beds of lavender and delphinium in shades of purple and blue.
“Oh, this is delightful,” she exclaimed, pausing to admire a particularly lovely grouping of flowers. “I had no idea it would be so extensive.”
“There is a kitchen garden as well, and the wilderness walk, which I think you will especially enjoy. It winds through the woods down to the stream.”
They walked on, and with each step Elizabeth felt more at home. This place, for all its grandeur, had a welcoming quality about it. She could imagine herself here, could picture mornings spent reading in the library, afternoons strolling these very paths, evenings by the fire with Darcy beside her.
“You will, of course, wish to make some changes. Every new bride does.”
“Not at all,” she said firmly, but then caught herself. Not grand changes, but perhaps some small improvements. The morning room, for instance, might benefit from new curtains, and the guest chambers in the west wing could use refreshing.
“This is your home now,” he said. “You must alter that which needs altered…as you did with me. How you took such a proud man as I had been and made him willing to humble himself… But no, there is no need to speak of it now. Only know that you have changed my life immeasurably, for the better, and I love you all the better for it.”
They had reached a small stone bench overlooking a particularly lovely vista, and by unspoken agreement they sat, Elizabeth leaning into her husband’s side as they gazed out over the parkland.
“I love you,” she said. “And I feel like the most fortunate woman in the world.”
“And I love you, Mrs Darcy.” He kissed her then, soft and sweet under the summer sun, and she thought that perhaps Pemberley was not so overwhelming after all. Not when she had Darcy beside her; not when love filled every corner of this beautiful place.
They sat together on that stone bench for a long while, wrapped in each other’s arms, speaking of their hopes and dreams for the future.
They talked of the improvements Elizabeth wished to make to the house, of the dinner parties they would host, of the Gardiners’ impending visit, and of Jane and Bingley who were finding Hertfordshire society a bit confining.
“Confined and unvarying,” Elizabeth mused. “It does not surprise me. They say it is hard to go home again.”
“I may have something to show him when they come to visit,” he said. “About fifteen miles from here.”
“Fifteen miles!” She turned to look at him, immediately thrilled. “That is nothing at all!”
“It might be a derelict, dreadful hovel of a place.”
“Oh, I am sure that it is not! Would it not be perfect if they lived so near to Pemberley! Just think of our children roaming about together, having happy adventures…”
“And if Miss Goddard ever says yes to Saye, their children as well.” Darcy smiled down at her. “I like the sound of it all very well. If only your mother would consent to a place in the country where she and Patterson might come to stay!”
“My mother says she is tired of country society and that we can see her when we are in London,” Elizabeth said. “And I say, in this season of her life, she deserves to do as she likes.”
“Patterson is a good man,” said her husband. “And he means to build her a house in Russell Square.”
“A house in a square,” Elizabeth said with a little smile. “How thrilled she will be.”
As the sun began to sink lower in the sky, painting the landscape in shades of gold and amber, they finally rose from their seat and turned back towards the house.
It rose before them, stately and magnificent, and Elizabeth felt welcomed, as if the very stones of Pemberley were reaching out to embrace her.
She sighed happily.
“What are you thinking?” Darcy asked.
“I am thinking that I am the happiest woman in all the world.”