Epilogue
A MONTH OR SO LATER …
Two daughters married and three more to get rid of—the eldest of which might easily boast of having a man who was more than half in love with her already!
What a happy time indeed this was for Mrs. Bennet.
Finally, she was able to look past the injustice of her half friend, half enemy’s daughter stealing Longbourn’s heir apparent from Elizabeth.
Mr. Collins was nothing at all in comparison to Mr. Darcy.
What did it matter that the former might throw her and her unmarried daughters into the hedgerows as soon as Mr. Bennet departed the earth?
What did any of that matter to her in the grand scheme of things?
She took prodigious comfort in placating herself with the notion that there was to be a wedding at Netherfield in mere months—weeks if she could arrange matters to suit her purposes.
Mrs. Bennet did not plan to live forever.
She fancied she would be just as comfortable spending the rest of her days at Netherfield as anywhere else.
Then, too, there was the added security of her second eldest daughter’s new home, Pemberley.
Indeed, life at Pemberley must certainly afford every convenience that ought to be enjoyed during one’s glory years.
Such a life would suit Mrs. Bennet just fine.
Such may have been the feelings of Mrs. Bennet; however, her husband, if he had his way, did not intend on departing this earth anytime soon.
He took far too much pleasure in the solace of his library surrounded by his books, his crafts, and various other cherished possessions that he had carefully amassed throughout his years.
On the other hand, he could well imagine the library at Pemberley as being one of the finest in the land.
Although the idea of traveling held little appeal, already he planned to visit his favorite daughter at her new home with some frequency and always when she and her husband least expected it.
As to the matter of an impending alliance between his eldest daughter and that wealthy young man from town, Mr. Bennet’s hopes were not quite as ambitious as his wife’s.
Then again, it was his wife’s way to nurse even the most fledgling evidence of affection towards one of her unwed daughters as much as was needed to produce a healthy proposal of marriage.
As much as he liked to laugh at her manner of carrying out the sole business of her life, how could he do anything but admire his lady for her convictions, especially since she managed things with so little trouble to himself?
In truth, there was real evidence of more than a trifling affection between Jane and Mr. Bingley even if some people—particularly those closest to him—refused to see it.
His sisters were busy hatching plans to remove their only brother from such a disastrous alliance.
They liked Jane well enough, but they secretly cherished the idea of an alliance between the Bingleys and the Darcys.
In their minds, no other young woman in all of England was better suited for their only brother than Miss Georgiana Darcy.
Two alliances would have been better, the sisters often liked to complain to each other.
However, Miss Eliza Bennet had seen an end to that happy prospect by stealing Mr. Darcy.
If they did not do anything else, they meant to wipe away the possibility that their own brother would also fall prey to a Bennet daughter.
Elizabeth, for her part, saw early on what the Bingley sisters were about.
She gave them no mind. Though she never wished to suppose that she and her mother were of the same mind on anything, Elizabeth, too, could not deny that Charles Bingley was more than half in love with her sister.
While she could not disagree with those who would argue that Jane’s sentiments were not so easily discerned as her lover’s, anyone who knew Jane best knew that her heart had truly been touched.
Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy would have cause to return to Hertfordshire in no time at all. Of that she was absolutely certain.
Where the future marital prospects of her sisters Mary and Kitty were concerned, here again, Elizabeth was of the same mind as her mother.
The chances of her sisters being thrown into the path of other rich gentlemen had increased one hundred fold.
Elizabeth planned to do everything in her power to see that they were.
It was not so much that the future gentlemen needed to be rich—although such a fate would not be looked down upon—what really mattered was that these as yet unknown gentlemen were decent and upright.
After all, all the wealth and power in the world meant nothing in the absence of honor and respectability.
Such had been Elizabeth’s guiding principles, and her sisters would do well to adhere to them as well. She planned to make certain they did.
As for the Gardiners, they were always on the most intimate terms. Darcy, as well as Elizabeth, really loved them and it was very plain for everyone to see that the Gardiners were equally fond of the newlyweds, so much so that they were wont to travel to Derbyshire as frequently as Mr. Gardiner’s business concerns allowed.
Pemberley was now Georgiana’s home, which delighted all three of the Darcys exceedingly.
After the loss of both parents, Georgiana comprehended what it was like to be part of a real family once again, and the thought that she would one day leave her brother and her new sister was a prospect she chose not to dwell on.
In her mind, her brother was the best man she knew.
Her cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam was a close second.
As for Elizabeth, Georgiana liked to think of her as everything a sister ought to be.
And what of the Wickhams? Elizabeth preferred not to think of them whenever she could help it.
She was glad that her husband had vowed never to receive Mr. Wickham at Pemberley, even though, for her sake, he did what he could to assist him further in his profession.
Elizabeth secretly wished she could banish her youngest sister from Pemberley as well; however, she could never truly do such a thing.
She also could not escape Lydia’s frequent calls on her purse.
Elizabeth persuaded herself that aiding her sister financially was the least she could do.
Lady Catherine, although extremely indignant about the marriage of her nephew, was obliged to do nothing that might provoke him into carrying out his heavily implied and yet unspoken threat.
Such restraint as this totally belied the genuine frankness of her character, making any time spent in her presence during the weeks leading up to the nuptials unbearable to those who, for whatever reason, could not escape her.
Anne, unable to endure her mother’s frequent complaints that she had not done enough to persuade her cousin of the sincerity of her desire for an alliance between them, went away to Bath with her companion Mrs. Jenkinson, secretly appreciative that she might finally chart her own course in life.
Charlotte could not have been happier for her friend Elizabeth.
As it was not in her nature to remind her intimate friend of that which she had strongly suspected all along, not one of her ensuing missives made mention of said fact.
But Charlotte knew, and Elizabeth knew too.
Mr. Collins was now fully cognizant of the fact that, between Lady Catherine and her nephew, being in the favor of the latter was the stronger bet should some inevitable fate befall Mr. Bennet.
He further believed his fair cousin’s visit to his home was what had thrown her into Mr. Darcy’s path.
And although he could never admit it so long as Mr. Bennet remained among the living, he silently congratulated himself that in opening his home to his cousin and putting her in Mr. Darcy’s path, he had provided the means of uniting them.
Anyone privy to the sound of music echoing throughout the halls of Pemberley would hardly wonder about the intermittent pauses of Beethoven’s fifth sonata, or whatever piece was being attempted at the time.
This was a definite sign that the master and his new bride were not to be interrupted regardless of what was taking place outside the closed doors of the music room.
Darcy was wont to find his way to that particular room with the same strength of determination he had exercised when he was at Rosings and Elizabeth was practicing on the pianoforte in the east library.
It was there that he first acknowledged the extent to which he was in her power—and allowed himself to entertain the idea of what it would be like to make her his.
Now she was his, and he was hers. Now he was free to do all the things a man dreamed of doing to his woman, with his woman, and for his woman. Indeed, there was nothing he would not do for his lovely wife. Nothing at all.
On one particular day, Elizabeth was struggling with a particularly complicated piece she had come across while thumbing through the music sheets her husband had given her as a wedding gift.
Elizabeth was never more delighted than when she had occasion to look up from the pianoforte and observe her husband adoring her.
His presence did things to her—incredibly indescribable things.
Her heart beat just a bit faster when she watched him approach the instrument.
He walked behind her to have a look over her shoulder.
He then placed his hands on her bare shoulders promisingly.
How she treasured the touch of his soft lips against her skin when he leaned down and feathered kisses along the entire length of her neckline. How she enjoyed it when he whispered softly in her ear. This time was no different. “Allow me to be of service, my love.”
Capturing her breath, she said, “Do you mean to demonstrate how this piece is performed, Mr. Darcy?”
“I do,” he replied.
Silently consenting to his tempting proposal, Elizabeth positioned herself accordingly to make room for her husband, and he sat next to her and commenced playing.
She could not help but be amazed and even more so when he began to sing.
The impeccable coupling of his deep, rich voice and the effortless manner in which his deft fingers glided across the ebony and the ivory keys in such splendid harmony elicited frissons of excitement mixed with anticipation throughout her body.
Even this he does extraordinarily well.
Impressed by Darcy’s command of the instrument, Elizabeth said, “After all those long hours under your silent scrutiny during my practice sessions at Rosings, I am surprised to discover you are such a great proficient. You have been holding back on me.”
“Indeed—in more ways than you can possibly imagine, my love.”
“Are you quite certain? I have a fairly active imagination, Mr. Darcy.”
Darcy ceased playing and gazed into Elizabeth’s eyes.
“Have you ever imagined me doing this, Mrs. Darcy?” Leaning closer, he whispered sweet, titillating promises in her ear.
The warm brush of his breath against her skin sent chills all over her body.
Darcy took her hand in his, raised it to his lips, and kissed her palm, rendering words yet unspoken utterly unnecessary.
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