Epilogue
Four months later
“Pass the preserves, if you please, Lizzy,” Mrs Bennet requested from her position at the head of Longbourn’s dining table. “Though I declare, I have never seen such excellent strawberry jam as our cook has produced this season. The fruit has been particularly fine this year.”
The familiar chaos of a Bennet family gathering filled the room with joy and laughter.
Kitty and Lydia engaged in spirited debate about the merits of various ribbons they had seen in Meryton, whilst Mary offered occasional observations about the moral implications of excessive ornamentation.
Mr Bennet presided over the assembly with his customary air of amused tolerance, occasionally interjecting dry commentary that made Elizabeth smile with affection.
“The weather has been most agreeable for our visit,” Jane observed, her gentle voice carrying the contentment that had marked her demeanour since her marriage to Mr Bingley two months prior. “I confess London’s heat became rather oppressive before we departed.”
“Indeed,” her husband agreed with characteristic enthusiasm. “Though I must say, the countryside air has worked wonders on my constitution. I feel quite restored already.”
Ambrose sat beside Elizabeth, his small hand occasionally reaching out to touch her arm as though reassuring himself of her presence.
The habit had developed since his return from Yorkshire, and whilst it showed signs of gradual improvement, he still preferred to remain within sight of his adopted parents whenever possible.
“I notice young Ambrose has appointed himself as your permanent shadow, Elizabeth,” Mr Bingley observed with good-natured teasing. “I vow the boy has not strayed more than three feet from your side since we sat down to dine.”
“Can you blame him?” Lydia interjected with her usual boldness. “After what that dreadful Wickham creature put him through, I should want to stay close to anyone who showed me proper kindness.”
Elizabeth’s hand moved instinctively to smooth Ambrose’s dark hair, noting how he pressed slightly closer to her at the mention of his former captor. “We do not speak of that person at the table,” she said gently. “Such topics are not suitable for pleasant company.”
“Quite right,” Mr Bennet said in agreement. “Though I confess there’s a certain satisfaction in knowing the scoundrel has received his just desserts. Transportation to New South Wales was no more than he deserved for his crimes.”
“Has there been any word of his fate since the ship departed?” Darcy asked, his tone carrying the detached interest of a man enquiring about a matter of purely historical significance.
“None whatsoever,” Mr Bennet replied. “He has faded into the obscurity such men invariably deserve. I find myself entirely disinclined to waste further thought upon his circumstances.”
“Here, here,” Mr Bingley declared with feeling. “Some individuals are best forgotten entirely. Far better to focus our attention on happier subjects—such as the excellent roast beef, or the delightful company, or the prospect of a pleasant walk after dinner.”
“Speaking of pleasant prospects,” Elizabeth said, exchanging a meaningful glance with her husband across the table, “Fitzwilliam and I have some news we should like to share with our dear family.”
The conversation gradually quieted as attention focused upon her. Mrs Bennet’s eyes brightened with the particular alertness that suggested she had already begun forming her own theories about the nature of such an announcement.
“Indeed?” Mr Bennet raised his eyebrows in curiosity. “I trust it is nothing too shocking for our delicate sensibilities.”
“Quite the contrary, Papa. We believe you will find our intelligence most welcome.” Elizabeth felt her cheeks warm slightly under the weight of so many expectant gazes.
“We are pleased to announce that Pemberley will be welcoming a new addition to the family next spring.”
The moment of stunned silence that followed was broken by Jane’s delighted gasp and Mrs Bennet’s loud cry of jubilation, which could likely be heard in the next county.
“Oh my dear Lizzy! How wonderful! How perfectly wonderful!” Mrs Bennet leapt from her chair with surprising agility, rushing around the table to embrace her daughter with tears of joy streaming down her face. “A grandchild! I am quite overcome with happiness!”
“Congratulations, old fellow,” Mr Bingley said warmly, reaching across to clasp Darcy’s hand. “Jane and I are absolutely delighted for you both.”
“Indeed we are,” Jane added, her own eyes bright with unshed tears of happiness. “Oh Lizzy, I am so very pleased for you!”
Kitty and Lydia erupted into excited chatter about baby clothes and nursery arrangements, whilst Mary offered a scholarly observation about the blessing of children in marriage that was surprisingly heartfelt.
Through it all, Mr Bennet watched the proceedings with the satisfied air of a man witnessing the natural order of things unfolding as it should.
“Well done, my dear,” he said finally, raising his glass with mock solemnity. “You have managed to render your mother speechless with joy—an achievement worthy of celebration in itself.”
“Papa!” Elizabeth protested, though she was laughing despite herself.
“What about me?” Ambrose piped up suddenly, tugging at Elizabeth’s sleeve with urgent concern. “Will the baby like me? Will there still be room for me if there’s someone new?”
The innocent question silenced the general celebration as all adult eyes focused on the child who had already endured more upheaval in his young life than most people experienced in decades.
Elizabeth immediately gathered him into her lap, her voice gentle but firm.
“Oh my precious boy, there will always be room for you. Do you know what happens when a family grows? Our hearts grow bigger too, so there’s even more love to share.
The baby will be lucky to have such a wonderful big brother. ”
“Truly?” His dark eyes searched her face with touching earnestness. “I shall teach them about horses and peacocks and how to arrange soldiers properly?”
“I have no doubt you will be the finest teacher a baby could ask for,” Darcy added warmly. “Though you must remember that babies need time to grow before they can appreciate such important lessons.”
Ambrose nodded solemnly, accepting this wisdom with gravity. “I shall be very patient. Mama says patience is a virtue.”
“Indeed it is,” Mrs Bennet declared, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief whilst beaming at her assembled family.
“And speaking of virtues, we must immediately begin planning for this blessed event. There will be so much to prepare—the nursery, the christening arrangements, proper clothing for the season…”
“Mama,” Elizabeth interrupted gently, “we have many months yet before such preparations become urgent.”
“Nonsense! One can never begin too early with such important matters. Why, I remember when you were expected, I began knitting tiny caps the moment I suspected…”
As Mrs Bennet launched into detailed recollections of her own maternal preparations, Elizabeth caught her husband’s eye across the table. His expression held such tender pride and quiet joy that she felt her heart might overflow with happiness.
Here, surrounded by the loving chaos of her family, with their precious son secure in her arms and new life growing within her, Elizabeth marvelled at the journey that had brought them to this moment.
What had begun as a desperate alliance to protect one child had blossomed into something far more precious—a true family, bound not by necessity but by the deepest bonds of affection.
The future stretched before them bright with promise, and she had never been more grateful for the unexpected paths that had led her to such perfect contentment.
“To new beginnings,” Mr Bennet said suddenly, raising his glass once more with warmth. “And to the remarkable way life has of surprising us all.”
“To new beginnings,” the table chorused in return, their voices united in celebration of the joy that awaited them all.
THE END
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