Epilogue #4
“No,” he admitted, “but you did not love me, either. I admired your dedication to Pemberley from the start, your willingness to learn. And after many years to that was added an enduring attraction.” His eyes passed over her in a new way that made her heart race.
“But I thought it meant nothing more than noticing a pretty woman. Then friendship grew through our working together, and before I realised it, seeing you was the brightest part of my day. Spending an evening listening to you play and hearing you talk was what I looked forward to all week. I could not imagine a day without you, even though I knew you would never marry me.”
Georgiana gave him a sad look and murmured, “You should have asked.”
“I should have, and I am grateful for the bravery you found in the future.” His admiring expression fell, and he sighed heavily. “What about your brother?”
“What do you mean? He is never coming back. He is home as far as he is concerned.”
“Your brother was—is a good man. Principled. Uncorruptible. Although we are of the same age, in that way, he reminded me of my father. I respected Mr Darcy, and I know he approved of me,” he sighed. “And part of me still wishes for him to hold me in the same regard.”
“And why would he not?” she asked, entirely confused.
“He would not approve of you marrying the steward.”
Georgiana gave a relieved laugh. “Of course he would.”
Mr Willers spoke in a more subdued tone.
“Mr Darcy’s greatest concern throughout 1812, aside from returning to Miss Bennet, was for you to be taken care of in his absence.
The lease agreement, showing you how to run the estate, building your confidence day by day…
Georgiana, that man wanted the absolute best for you. You may not have seen it, but I did.”
“Oh, Philip,” she murmured. “Marrying you is the best for me.”
“You and I know that, and I am more than happy to tell the rest of the world to go to the devil. And I would defy Mr Darcy too, if he were here and refused his blessing. It just grieves me to know that he would want better for you than a man with no connexions to boast of and whose only fortune comes from what his sister paid me.” He smiled a little.
“I liked your brother, and had we been the same rank in society, we might have been friends. And by marrying you, I would earn his disapproval.”
Georgiana pulled out her brother’s letter and handed it to him. “Fitzwilliam said to give you this, if I thought you needed to read it. I do not know what it says.”
Mr Willers took it cautiously and then removed a pair of spectacles from his coat pocket.
Moving closer to the lamp on the table, he said as he opened it, “The paper is markedly white and smooth. How do they make it? Blue ink!” he cried.
“That is curious.” He held the letter close to his eyes.
“What sort of pens do they use in the future?” he said in a tone of wonder.
“There is not a single blot or gouge or falter. Nor any fading and darkening of the ink where he had to refill the quill. Mr Darcy always had an even hand, but how did he make the ink roll perfectly smoothly?”
“I think he hoped you would read it, not analyse it.”
He looked embarrassed and murmured, “Of course.”
Georgiana watched him read, knowing that Fitzwilliam would have written nothing against their match, but was still restless with anxiety. Mr Willers finished, but kept his head bowed as he removed his spectacles.
“Did he, did he give you encouragement or…”
He raised his head and cleared his throat. “Yes, he did. Perhaps you would like to read it, my love?”
She was not sorry to be pressed to read what Fitzwilliam had written.
September 20, 2026
Dear Sir,
I have long wanted to thank you for your dedication to the Pemberley estates.
Pemberley, indeed any grand estate, is dependent upon the household servants, the tenant farmers, and their families and workers.
A successful estate owner also has a sense of duty, and my sister is as capable as I would have been had I stayed.
But the steward is also integral to an estate’s success, especially one with a good head for business.
Everyone knows a steward sees to every aspect of an estate’s management, but few landowners have the privilege of relying on so meticulous, so honest, and so committed a man as you.
I could not in good conscience have left had Georgiana not wanted Pemberley, but I have since realised that I could not have left had you not been involved in the entire scheme.
It was Georgiana’s idea to tell you the truth about Nine Ladies.
She saw the value in your knowing the entirety of my objective, and she trusted both your business sense and your discretion.
Choosing to involve you in my elaborate plan was the first decision Georgiana made solely on her own for Pemberley’s sake, and now she has chosen you again. I have as much faith in this decision as I did her first. You do not need it, but you have my consent and blessing to marry.
She came to us broken-hearted and lost, and it is my hope that she returns to you confident and hopeful.
In my eyes, my sister has no faults, so anyone she chooses must naturally resign himself to being connected to a character superior to his own.
But in your case, I am certain the merits of the match are on both sides.
Philip, if ever you consider me as your mind reflects on the past or the future, I hope you think of me as your brother and friend.
I remain with gratitude and respect,
Your servant and brother,
Fitzwilliam Darcy.
Georgiana slowly refolded the letter and handed it back, feeling as though tears of gratitude and sorrow were seconds from falling.
She was grateful she had visited Fitzwilliam and his family, but the ache of knowing she meant so much to her brother and would never see him again threatened to overpower her current happiness.
She could now understand Fitzwilliam’s reluctance to engage with her and face all of that pain, and it made his ultimate willingness to befriend her and guide her even more valuable.
Mr Willers seemed to know her feelings, and put his arms around her, and for a while, she cried quietly in his arms.
“The sentiments conveyed are very much to your credit,” she said, endeavouring to be cheerful.
“And to yours,” he said, kissing her forehead. “It is a very good letter,” he said slowly, clearly moved to emotion by it and trying to appear unaffected. “I am undoubtedly your inferior as to rank in society, my love, but I am relieved to know that the people who love you best are happy for us.”
“I choose to be unmoved by any words along the lines of ‘superior,’ ‘first circles,’ ‘spheres,’ and ‘ranks.’”
He smiled, and she saw in his eyes that he believed her. “Then we need not mention it again. I am sorry you left in June in such distress. I had no idea you looked at me as an object of regret.”
“I could not believe you felt anything for me in return, not if you were quitting me so easily.”
“Oh, it was not easy,” he murmured, pulling her in close.
“It broke my heart, but it felt necessary, for both our sakes, because I was sure to forget myself again. I saw no path forward for us. The disparity of our situations felt too great.” His voice sounded so much lighter and joyful than before when he said, “I feel like I have drawn such a prize, Georgiana.”
“Are you now assured that we have every opportunity for happiness, so long as we are together?”
He kissed her again, deeply and thoroughly, as though wishing to make up for lost time.
The End