Epilogue
Pemberley, seven years later
Fitzwilliam Darcy stared through the window of his apartment at the joyful group running and gleefully laughing in front of the house.
The children were carefully supervised by their parents and grandparents, as well as their eldest cousins—the Gardiner children.
It was early September, and the weather was just chilly enough to be pleasant and welcoming for spending time outside.
Under a tree in the shade, Mrs Bennet spoke animatedly with Mrs Gardiner.
Mr Bennet, along with Mr Gardiner and Mr Wilson were again taking advantage of his library.
Therefore, he moved from their bedchamber into his office.
In seven years of marriage, he and Elizabeth had never used both bedchambers, so it was a comfortable place for him to retire to work in peace any time he wished a little escape from the daily din.
He loved having his house full but still retained a certain reluctance for large gatherings. Fortunately, Pemberley was grand enough to offer company or privacy, according to everyone’s individual preference.
For the last three years, the Bennets had spent most of their time at Pemberley.
There was nothing much left for them in Hertfordshire.
Their three youngest daughters were happily married—Lydia in London to an attorney, Kitty in Oxfordshire to the eldest son of a baronet, and Mary to the schoolmaster in Lambton, an ex-officer wounded in the war.
Bingley and Jane had left Netherfield a year after their marriage and purchased an estate only thirty miles from Pemberley. Mrs Bennet was now spoiled travelling between her eldest daughters, pleased to enjoy the excellent situation and hospitality of her sons-in-law.
Miss Caroline Bingley married a nephew of the Earl of Carnarvon, a gentleman from a titled family—more elegant than wealthy—who appreciated Miss Bingley’s impressive dowry, regardless of its being made in trade.
Together with the Hursts, Caroline Herbert kept a somewhat cold acquaintance with the Darcys and their extended family.
Mr Wilson also resided primarily on his estate near Lambton, and the schools he built and developed were a blessing for the entire community.
He was part of both the Gardiner and the Darcy family, and the children treated him like a third grandparent.
It came as a happy surprise when he unexpectedly became attached to Georgiana’s companion, Mrs Annesley, and married her four years ago.
Since he was in his early fifties, and she in her late thirties, a long, happy, and well-deserved life lay ahead of them.
Besides, Georgiana no longer needed a companion as she had not only the sisterly affection of Elizabeth but also the friendship of Jane and the other Bennet sisters.
Even more, four years after his own marriage, Darcy had the joyful regret of seeing his sister leave Pemberley on the arm of her beloved husband, the fourth Earl of Carlisle.
Georgiana was now the proud mother of a healthy son, the future earl, who loved nothing more than to play with his eldest cousins.
The only cousins Darcy saw less often than he would like were Richard Fitzwilliam and his wife, the former Anne de Bourgh.
They married the same year as the Darcys and even had a daughter and a son, but Lady Catherine suffered a stroke three years later, and they moved to Rosings to take care of her and the estate.
Still, Lady Catherine never accepted a reconciliation with her other relatives and never appreciated her daughter’s devotion. She continued to impose her will, having no success with anyone except Mr Collins.
Richard Fitzwilliam left his regiment after his wedding but not before bringing the news of Wickham being murdered by a jealous husband whose wife attempted to run away with the former officer.
He was buried—at Darcy’s request—near his parents in a secluded grove at Pemberley.
Mr Wickham was sadly regretted by very few people, and Miss Lydia Bennet was not one of them.
He was soon forgotten as though his useless life had never existed.
New cries of joy startled Darcy from outside. His son George Alexander—six years old—and his daughter Anne Rose—four and a half—were playing with a ball, chased by their dog and lovingly watched by Elizabeth.
She had just turned twenty-eight, and every day he thanked the Lord for having her at his side. Her beauty, wisdom, liveliness, kindness, and strength had enhanced the lives of those around her. To him, Elizabeth was life itself.
Darcy smiled as he mused over the view in front of him, his heart filled with love and gratitude. As if drawn by his gaze, Elizabeth turned and observed him. The children saw him too and cheered and waved to him. He waved back at them and sent them a loving hug and they returned to their play.
But Elizabeth remained, and they looked at each other for a few more moments. They needed no words to share their thoughts and wishes.
Suddenly, she whispered something to the children, talked to her Aunt Gardiner and to a maid, and then disappeared from his view.
He waited—his heart beating as rapidly as it had seven years earlier—then it nearly stopped when the door opened and she entered.
He heard her lock the door, and he smiled to himself.
Her scent made him dizzy, and her sweet hands, embracing him from behind, stirred his senses.
He rounded and faced her, trapping her in his embrace.
“I have missed you, my love,” she said.
He kissed her hands then lifted her in his arms and took her to the bed.
“You are burrowed so deeply into my mind, my soul, and my body that I cannot even miss you. You are part of me, my dearest, loveliest Elizabeth,” he said, proving his words to her one more time.
Not that she had ever doubted him since the night they declared their love at the edge of Pemberley Lake.