Epilogue Chapter 3 #3
Serena had been warned ahead of time what to expect, and so she had not been shocked.
She had, however, been saddened, and she had thrown herself passionately into helping her husband and his father to bring his estate back into good heart.
The interest on her dowry, and occasionally bits of the principal, had been put to good use, paying thatchers and purchasing materials, rebuilding cottages and digging drainage canals.
As time passed, less and less of Serena’s money was required for the upkeep of the estate, as improved cottages and improved situations attracted tenants.
Crops flourished, livestock prospered, profits rose, and rents climbed.
Much of Wrayburn’s income was plowed right back into it, but there was never a lack of food on the table, nor pinching of pennies for clothes for the children.
Crates on Boxing Day were always filled, and the tenants had learned to come fearlessly to their landlord any time they needed.
Much of this improvement, Serena knew, could be attributed directly to her father-in-law, God rest his kind soul.
The old Lord Langdon had never, in his life, stopped working for Wrayburn, and she could only be glad that he had seen the firstfruits of his efforts before the Good Lord called him home.
Wrayburn would still, perhaps, require a little more care than an estate that had long been managed prudently, but it was quite comfortable now, for its master’s family and his tenants alike.
Her dear Zachary was vigilant and wise, and he was raising his eldest son and heir, Nicholas, to regard the land and her people in the same responsible light.
Already Nicholas was bidding fair to share in his father’s wisdom, and Serena could not have been prouder.
“I had forgotten how beautiful this garden is,” a wonderfully familiar voice said, and she looked up and smiled as Zachary wandered into view.
She patted the seat next to her, and he lowered himself down and wrapped an arm around her.
“Yes, it is truly glorious,” she said. “Fitzwilliam tells me that the gardeners keep it much as my mother left it, which I find charming.”
“It is,” Zachary agreed, and for a few minutes, they merely sat side by side in silent harmony, enjoying the peace and silence as the fragrant roses spread their gentle perfume through the soft spring air.
“I suppose I ought to check on the children,” Serena mused at last, and Zachary said, “I would like to see them as well, though I suspect it will be rather noisy.”
She laughed and rose to her feet, and he did as well, and they walked arm and arm to the back door, then down a corridor, and then up two flights of stairs to the great nurseries of Pemberley.
As expected, there was pandemonium within the rooms. Serena and Georgiana had birthed five and three children, respectively, but the former Bennet daughters had birthed between five and seven children each, and a great many young children, too many to easily count and of varying ages, were rushing around talking loudly, or playing with blocks, or working with governesses, with nursemaids aplenty to ensure that all was well.
With so many families in residence, even the great Pemberley mansion was quite full, and thus the older children were settled in the guest wing, including her elder two children, Nicholas and Tobias.
“Father, Mother!”
Zachary and Serena turned as their three daughters, Sophia, age nine, and Grace and Eugenia, age six, rushed toward their parents, and Serena found herself embracing her twins, while Zachary wrapped a loving arm around Sophia.
“We are having so much fun!” Grace, the more outgoing of the twins, said. “Cousins Lucinda and Rachel have such a lovely dollhouse, and we played with it, and there is a rocking horse, and Cousin Miles tried to rock, and he fell off and cried, but he was all right…”
In the midst of the chatter and exuberance, Serena and Zachary exchanged amused glances. How fortune they were to be here, surrounded by family, and blessed with one another and healthy, beautiful children.
***
Dining Room
Pemberley
That Evening
The great table had been stretched to its full extent, with every leaf added.
Elizabeth and her beloved Fitzwilliam sat at opposite ends of the table, with the master of the estate at the head and its mistress at the foot.
The breakfast parlor next to the dining room was also in use this evening, and could be seen through the two large doors which were propped open.
The table in the breakfast parlor was full, with the twelve oldest cousins in residence seated there, dressed in their best attire.
James Darcy, heir of Pemberley, was placed at the head of the table, and Elizabeth smiled at the gravity in that young face as he looked down the line of female and male cousins, while his sister Clarice and brother Peter sat near the end of the table.
“Are the children well?” a voice asked from Elizabeth’s right.
Elizabeth turned a smiling look on her next younger sister. Mary’s red-blonde hair showed only a few scattered gray hairs, and her face was peaceful and happy.
“I think so,” she said reassuringly. “I know that our children are determined to be good hosts to their cousins, and of course, the servants will help as needed.”
Mary smiled and said, “My girls were incredibly excited to enjoy such a formal dinner with their cousins.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I am so grateful that you all took the time to come here. It will not be long before our older children enter Society, and it will be much harder for everyone to be in the same place at the same time.”
“Indeed, though at least London is close to Meryton,” Mary remarked, taking a sip of wine. “When you and your family are in London, perhaps we can take occasional trips to Darcy House to visit you.”
Elizabeth set down her spoon and said, “Mary, you know that if you and Wickham…”
“No, Lizzy,” Mary responded, lifting a staying hand.
“I know that you and my sisters love our family very much and are willing to sacrifice for them, but George and I are in agreement that our children will not have a Season. We are very comfortable financially, but we do not have an estate, and I would not wish for them to long for more than is practical. Our boys will enter a profession, and our daughters will have a reasonable dowry which will permit them to marry, but given our situation in life, I do not want them to expect more.”
Elizabeth nodded but did not speak. George and Mary Wickham had produced three strapping boys and two charming daughters, and all of them were quite good-looking; no surprise, that, considering their father’s good looks and mother’s beauty.
She thought that the children could likely reach reasonably high in search of a spouse, but she also knew that Wickham and his wife did not wish to depend too much on their wealthier relations, and Elizabeth honored them for it.
She glanced down the table toward Mr. Wickham, who was seated near Darcy. The two men were talking amicably with one another, which warmed her heart.
The rest of her sisters and sisters by marriage were spread along the long table with their husbands sprinkled here and there, with Mrs. Bennet settled halfway down the table, speaking with animation to Kitty across the table from her.
Warmth gave way to a strange exultation.
How fortunate, how blessed, they were, for she and her sisters to have each found a loving husband and to have birthed many healthy children!
Her darling Fitzwilliam lifted his eyes and met hers, and she felt her cheeks warm and her heart beat faster at the love in those eyes.
He was the greatest gift of all; a husband whom she adored and respected, who loved her in return, who watched over his family and estate with determination and diligence.
***
Elizabeth’s Sitting Room
Pemberley
Midnight
The night air was chilly, and Elizabeth Darcy, dressed in night gown and robe and cap, was thankful for the large fire crackling happily in front of her.
She leaned back against the comfortable settee, savoring the peaceful silence.
She adored having her mother and sisters and their families in residence, but it was pleasant to sit here, relishing the thought of so many children and toddlers and babies sleeping in cots and beds.
Her sisters by marriage, too, were probably in bed, fatigued by travel and hours of exuberant conversation with their relations.
The gentlemen were likely still up, though.
The former Bennet and Darcy ladies were blessed that their respective husbands all got along swimmingly, and after so much time apart, the men were enjoying games of pool and conversations about grass and hunting dogs, and so on and so forth.
There were a few servants still awake as well, naturally, walking on quiet feet hither and yon in order to manage all the needs of the visitors. Indeed, she had deliberately hired extra servants for this time so that the servants of Pemberley were not entirely overwhelmed…
Her eyelids were heavy now, and she shook herself a trifle. She really ought to go to bed.
But she was so comfortable, and in any case, she hoped…
The door to her left opened, the one that led to the sitting room she shared with her husband. While master and mistress each had a bedroom, the couple spent most nights together in Elizabeth’s chamber.
“Fitzwilliam,” she whispered, turning her head and gazing at her husband. He still stood entirely erect, and in the soft light of the fire, she could not see any of the wrinkles which displayed his six and forty years.
“Elizabeth,” he responded, walking closer to her.
“Are the gentlemen all in bed? If so, I confess to some surprise.”
“Richard and Bingley and Talbot and Wickham are still up, but I said I was tired and bid them a very good night.”
“I am tired, too.”
“Then shall we go to bed, Mrs. Darcy?” he asked, holding out his hand to pull her to a standing position.
“We shall, Mr. Darcy,” she replied.
The End