Epilogue #2
“And it is near Bakewell,” Elizabeth added. “Close enough that we may all visit one another.”
Mrs. Bennet was too pleased for words. She watched the pair as they moved through the figures.
“Darling,” Darcy said quietly, “are you inclined for a dance?” Then he added quickly, “But not if it will cause you harm.”
Elizabeth placed her hand within his, and she giggled. “Darling, I am expecting, I am not at my last breath.”
“Yes, that is what I tell myself,” he said, “but you know I worry.”
“I apologize, darling. I am quite well. There is no cause for concern. Come, let us dance.”
The following day was an at-home day at Pemberley. The ladies were dressed for morning calls and gathered in the drawing room. The earliest callers were Mrs. Allen, Miss Allen, and her son Gilbert.
Mrs. Allen was offered a chair near Elizabeth, while Mr. and Miss Allen moved at once to Kitty, seating themselves on either side of her upon the settee. They were soon engaged in conversation of their own while the older ladies spoke together at the far end of the room.
Georgiana and Lydia sat together, chatting easily. They had grown fond of one another, much of their time spent riding. Lydia had begun lessons at Georgiana’s urging and now rode for her own amusement.
When the tea tray was brought in and more neighbors arrived, Elizabeth observed her mother with some anxiety. Mrs. Bennet was no longer vulgar, but she remained sharp. Mrs. Norris and Mrs. Campbell were likewise inclined, and Elizabeth waited with held breath for some indiscretion.
Jane took her tea and then moved to sit beside her mother, quietly intervening when necessary. Mary sat with Mrs. Allen and assisted Elizabeth in making her welcome.
“Miss Catherine,” Mr. Allen asked, “how long do you expect to remain with your sister?”
“We shall return to Hertfordshire at the end of next week, sir.”
He glanced down at his cup. “Could your visit not be extended? We should like to call upon you if it were.”
He looked to his sister. “You would like to visit with your friend, would you not, Emmy?”
The young man colored. “As for myself, I would visit as often as Mrs. Darcy and you, my dear Miss Catherine, would permit.”
Kitty reached for her friend’s hand. “I shall ask Lizzy if I may remain until she returns to London in November. I will write and tell you.”
Emily returned the pressure. “I shall hope for it.”
“I will as well,” Mr. Allen said earnestly.
The morning calls had gone well, and now it was dinner time, and the family had gathered in the drawing room, waiting to be called in. Mrs. Bennet leaned forward. “Oh, Kitty, I was sure you could not be so handsome for nothing.”
Kitty flushed, and Jane laid a hand upon her mother’s arm.
“Mamma, pray lower your voice. The servants will hear you.”
Mrs. Bennet colored. “Forgive me, my dear. I forgot myself.”
She took Kitty’s arm. “I saw how he looked at you at the ball, and now he has called the very next day. I know how this will end.”
Jane intervened. “Kitty, from what Charles and Mr. Darcy have said, he is a fine man. His family is respectable, and the estate is a good one. But will your portion discourage him?”
Kitty flushed again. “I told him I have only a small portion. He says he has independence through his mother’s family, and even if his father were to disapprove, he could marry as he chooses.
Mrs. Allen and Emily are very kind to me.
Gilbert has not yet spoken, as he is persuading his father, but his hints have been very pointed. ”
At that moment, Walters entered the room. Instead of announcing that dinner was served, he approached Darcy.
“An express, sir.”
Darcy took the letter and stepped aside. He read it twice before returning. He went directly to Elizabeth, whose face had paled.
“Is it my father?” she asked. “Is he well?”
“Your father is well,” Darcy said quietly. “He writes that Mrs. Collins was delivered, and neither she nor the child survived.”
The room fell silent.
Elizabeth sank onto the sofa.
“Not Mary,” Mrs. Bennet whispered. “This cannot be.”
The family traveled to Hertfordshire for the funeral. Though the women were not allowed to attend the service or burial, their husbands did, along with the gentlemen of the neighborhood.
The women remained at Mrs. Talbot’s house and stood with her as the bier passed on its way from Longbourn to the church. When it was gone from sight, they entered the house, and Elizabeth ordered tea.
While they waited, she placed her hand over Mrs. Talbot’s and said quietly, “Mary taught me how to bake small lemon cakes. I first tasted them here, and she knew how much I loved them. I now serve them regularly at Pemberley.”
Mrs. Bennet began, “You know nothing of baking…”
Elizabeth sent her a pointed look, and Jane murmured softly in her mother’s ear.
Elizabeth continued, “Lady Lucas lent us her kitchen, and Mary taught Charlotte, Maria, and me. We baked them together.”
Mrs. Talbot’s smile was faint but sincere. “We baked together often. We always kept a good cook, but Mary loved the work.”
She glanced sharply at Mrs. Bennet. “It was a pleasure to spend time together in that way.”
Others shared memories, but time passed slowly, painfully.
At last, the men returned. Darcy entered and stood behind Elizabeth. Bingley took Jane’s hand. Charlotte and Lady Lucas shifted to make room for Sir William.
When Mr. Collins and Mr. Bennet entered, the room grew still. Mrs. Talbot wept softly. Mr. Bennet moved to her side and took her hand.
“Hettie,” he said, his voice breaking.
“She no longer suffers,” she replied gently.
He remained at her side the rest of the day.
When evening came, all departed save Elizabeth. She sent Darcy back to Longbourn and stayed with her father. When the house emptied, she moved away to grant privacy.
Mr. Collins approached her.
“I wish to apologize to you, Mrs. Darcy,” he said stiffly. “I behaved improperly in the past. You have nothing to fear from me.”
She neither answered nor raised her eyes.
He bowed and withdrew.
At last, Mr. Bennet rose.
“I shall come again tomorrow,” he said.
“Come, Lizzy. We must leave if we wish to reach Longbourn before dark.”
She kissed Mrs. Talbot and then took her father’s arm.
Once beyond the village, she asked quietly, “How are you, Papa?”
He sighed. “I am well enough, Lizzy. I have much to be grateful for. Family above all.”
They walked in silence.
“And Mrs. Talbot?” she asked.
“She has lost much,” he said softly. “Beginning with me.”
“Do you still love her?”
“I do,” he replied. “Some love does not end.”
Elizabeth said gently, “She is not alone, Papa.”
He nodded. “But when the day ends, she will be.”
They walked on together in silence.
June 12 1816
Mrs. Talbot sat in the foremost pew beside Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. On her other side were Jane and Mr. Bingley, with Mr. and Mrs. Bennet next to them. The remainder of the family was scattered among the parishioners of Meryton wherever space allowed.
The service was simple. Elizabeth watched as Mr. Collins spoke his vows to Lydia, who had only just turned twenty.
Her eyes filled when she heard her sister’s soft, sweet voice reciting vows in her turn.
When he placed the ring upon Lydia’s hand, her face brightened with a broad smile, and he smiled in answer.
Together they turned and walked down the nave and out into the churchyard.
When Elizabeth stepped outside on Darcy’s arm, she closed her eyes for a moment until they adjusted to the sudden brightness of the sun. They stood a little apart, watching the newly married couple greet their friends.
Darcy bent toward her and spoke in a low voice. “I can scarcely recognize him as the same man I struck two years ago.”
“He is so changed, I do not recognize him either. Losing Mary and his child altered him profoundly.”
“You do not fear for Lydia?” he asked.
“No, Lydia is a strong woman, and he is the sort of man to whom she is drawn. I no longer sense danger when he is near. That wildness and impropriety that once repelled me is gone.”
She continued, “He and Papa have managed Longbourn so well together that he is relinquishing the living. He and Lydia will move to Longbourn at the end of the year. He wished to give Lady Catherine time to find a replacement.”
“When did you learn this?” Darcy asked.
“Last evening, after dinner. While you were speaking with Charles, Papa was speaking with me. He intends to let a small house in Margate. He will be free of the daily management of the estate, and Mamma will be free of Mrs. Talbot.”
Darcy raised his brows. “Your father has not…”
“No,” Elizabeth said at once. “Papa has not strayed. But his presence has made Mrs. Talbot’s life difficult.
She stands on the outside looking in. They have always pined for one another.
Papa has long wished to be free of the estate so that he might spend more time reading the great poets, and Mamma believes that sea bathing will restore her entirely.
They mean to move to the coast in November.
Papa is vastly contented with the plan, and so is my mother. ”
Darcy glanced around him and soon located Mrs. Talbot. She stood a short distance away with Kitty and her husband, and he realized she was watching Mr. Bennet from afar.
He placed his free hand over Elizabeth’s, where it lay on his arm. “Darling, I am profoundly grateful that I had the good sense to claim you when I did. I shall never know the burden of regret that your father carries, for I have married the woman who bewitched me, body and soul.”
Elizabeth had also been watching Mrs. Talbot. Now she turned to smile up at her husband, her eyes bright with tears as her fingers tightened on his arm. “I am too, Fitzwilliam."