Epilogue Chapter 3 #2
Now, some years later, Elizabeth had become a skilled knitter, and took joy in producing nearly endless pairs of little socks, as it was impossible to have too many.
Even when she was not personally increasing, one of her sisters often was, and barring any of the former Bennet daughters being in the family way, it was rare indeed that there was not at least one tenant family preparing to welcome a new arrival.
So Elizabeth was able to put her favored activity to good use, and if she had any extras during Christmastide, she would tuck the spare pairs into the gifts for Boxing Day alongside shawls and scarves and mittens.
She was, by now, well able to knit without conscious thought, her focus almost fully on her surroundings.
Elizabeth listened contentedly to the conversation, her heart full to overflowing with joy.
It had been too long since she had seen Jane and her growing family.
Sweet baby Josiah had been a pleasant surprise, but the pregnancy had been difficult for Jane, attended by a degree of sickness to which she had been unaccustomed, and the labor had utterly exhausted her.
All who loved her had feared for a time, but as the babe grew in strength, so had his mother, and eventually the doctor had declared Jane quite out of danger.
These glad tidings had been conveyed south by letter and engendered much rejoicing.
Even so, it was some several months more before Jane felt equal to enduring the rigors of travel.
It was wonderful indeed to see her again, Elizabeth thought affectionately, and Richard and their many children as well.
There were six young Fitzwilliams, all told, to be added to the seven young Darcys in the chambers upstairs.
Already those rooms were rowdy with the joy of many young persons and would be rowdier yet by the end of the week.
All the members of the clan would be gathered under Pemberley’s capacious roof, as both of Darcy’s sisters would be returning to their native home with their own families on the following day, while the rest of Elizabeth’s sisters were scheduled to arrive this very afternoon.
Elizabeth, a staid matron, did not show such extravagant emotion as would be unbecoming, but her eyes were sparkling with barely contained excitement. For the first time in many years, all those dearest to her on the earth would be gathered under one roof for a time.
Sounds from beyond the door that led onto the hallway had her pricking up her ears; the babble of many voices, feminine and masculine, and the youthful piping of children, and the footsteps of a great crowd of people.
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, narrowing her eyes as she listened.
A moment later she was sure, and her heart leapt.
“I believe that is my sisters!” she exclaimed.
Richard grinned and said, “I believe I will rest here for a few moments before entering the maelstrom of family. Pray, go on, though.”
Elizabeth bestowed a grateful smile on her brother-in-law, laid the needles with the sock on top of the workbasket aside, and stood up.
Darcy waited for her to draw abreast of him and opened the door for her, and then he strode rapidly down the hall.
Elizabeth had almost to run to keep pace with his stride, but so great was her eagerness that she outpaced him for the last few steps into the soaring vestibule into which the front door opened.
The entry was designed to be large enough to accommodate a great crowd, and a great crowd it now held.
It was entirely full of Wickhams and Bingleys and Talbots, and the ceiling rang with laughter and eager conversation.
“Mary, Kitty, Lydia!” Elizabeth exclaimed, rushing to hug each sister in turn before they all piled into one enormous, lasting embrace.
Beside them, Darcy was greeting his brothers-in-law heartily.
Children bounced and swirled like ocean breakers around their parents and aunts and uncles, and Pemberley’s maids hurried forward to show the visiting nursemaids and their youngest charges the way to the nurseries.
Elizabeth turned from greeting her sisters to her brothers by marriage and then exclaimed again over those of her nieces and nephews who were old enough to remain in the hall and exchange greetings.
They had all grown very much, and she told them so, and she admired how pretty the girls were becoming and how very handsome the boys were turning out, before her sisters once more claimed her attention.
Now at last her cup of happiness was running over, and she surreptitiously wiped one eye. No sorrow here! Her heart was singing a song of joy, as at last the party began to ascend the stairs to their rooms, Elizabeth and Darcy leading the way.
***
Rose Garden
Pemberley
The Next Day
Lady Serena Langdon leaned back against the simple stone bench and looked around her solemnly.
She and her family had arrived at Pemberley only an hour earlier, and Elizabeth had considerately urged her sister by marriage to spend some time in solitude instead of chatting with the numerous people in residence.
She had wished to do exactly that.
She had a peculiar feeling of stepping back in time, of having returned to her youth and the many blissful hours spent in this very rose garden.
Not much had changed, though it had been a full five years since she had last set foot at Pemberley.
It had not been so long, thankfully, since she had seen her brother and his family.
Twice the Langdons had traveled to London for the Season, and both times the Darcys had also been there.
The visits had been gratefully welcomed by both families.
Georgiana, on the other hand, Serena was able to see rather more often, as Graystone, the estate of Georgiana’s husband, was only some forty miles from Wrayburn, and the journey could be made in a day.
Growing older together with Georgiana had seemed the most natural thing in the world.
The silver just beginning in Fitzwilliam’s hair was startling but easily accepted; it was as though his hair finally was reflecting the wisdom he had displayed for so many years.
It seemed like Pemberley, too, should be showing its age, but that was absurd.
Pemberley had stood for decades upon decades before Serena and her siblings were born, and by God’s grace, it would stand for decades upon decades after they were all long gone.
It should not be disorienting to find the home of her childhood unchanged, when she had been so different, but even as she acknowledged the irrationality of the expectation, Serena could not shake the feeling of surreality.
She had come out here seeking refuge in her mother’s rose garden.
It too was largely unchanged, but its surpassing loveliness partially restored her equilibrium.
Lady Anne had carefully designed the garden to have blooms in every season of the year, save winter, and while some bushes were clad only in leaves of green or purple, others were in bloom, scenting the air and coloring the garden.
Painstakingly pruned bushes of red and yellow and white glowed in the sun, vines laden with pink blossoms climbing over trellises and bowers set up for them.
Serena took a deep breath of floral air, turning to look thoughtfully up at Pemberley.
Inside those walls, fast as a fortress, she could remember every inch of the halls where she had run, and every room where she had played and slept and taken meals and had lessons and spent time with her family.
She had taken her first steps within those hallowed walls, learned her letters there, and much later, penned the first words of her first novel.
In some corner of her heart, Pemberley would always be home, even as Wrayburn was her first thought now upon hearing that word.
It was from Wrayburn that she sent her novels to her publisher in London.
Serena had been frankly shocked by her success; never had she dreamed, when first writing The Wisp in the Willows, that it would gain such traction and popularity.
Now, the author of that book was known throughout England and possibly beyond, and all her books were avidly read.
Wrayburn was the cradle of her muse, but that was far from its greatest importance.
No, Wrayburn was home because that was where Serena’s family was.
It was her own dear husband’s estate, and the nursery there had housed their five precious children.
The tenants there looked to Serena as their mistress, and the lands surrounding it had become her haunt.
There was an estate that had not stayed ageless!
Though Zachary and his father had labored over it intensely, pouring money and time and the sweat of their own brows into the land, it still showed its decades of sad neglect when Zachary had brought his new bride home for the first time.