Epilogue
Several months later
"I believe," Elizabeth said, laying down her final card, "that makes two consecutive victories for me."
Georgiana groaned, tossing her own cards onto the table in good-natured defeat. "You are entirely too skilled at loo for someone who claims to have learned the game only recently. I suspect you have been practising in secret."
"Or perhaps," Fitzwilliam observed dryly from his position across the card table, "my sister and I are simply abysmal players who make your victories appear more impressive than they truly are."
Elizabeth laughed, gathering the cards for the next round. "Your attempt to diminish my achievement through false modesty will not work, husband. I won fairly, and I intend to savour my triumph."
The drawing room at Pemberley glowed with the warmth of late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows.
A fire crackled cheerfully in the hearth despite the mildness of the spring weather, and the tea service sat abandoned on a side table, its contents long since grown cold.
It was precisely the sort of domestic scene Elizabeth had once thought improbable—herself, comfortable and at ease, playing cards with her husband and his sister as though they had been family for years rather than months.
Georgiana had returned from Ireland three weeks earlier, full of stories about her time abroad and glowing with a potent happiness. Elizabeth had been pleased to meet her sister-in-law, and a quick, easy bond had grown between them.
"Tell us more about that gentleman of yours," Elizabeth ventured as she dealt a new set of cards. "Whom you met in Dublin."
Pink coloured Georgiana's cheeks, but she did not look away. "Lord Greville. He is the second son of the Earl of Aylesford. Very kind, rather bookish, absolutely terrible at dancing." Her smile turned soft. "I quite like him."
"He has written to request permission to call upon Georgiana here at Pemberley," Fitzwilliam added. "I am considering the matter."
"You are being overprotective, you mean," Georgiana corrected with the ease of long familiarity.
"Lord Greville is perfectly respectable, comes from an excellent family, and has already been thoroughly investigated by Colonel Fitzwilliam, who found nothing objectionable in his character or circumstances. "
"Richard is too lenient,” Fitzwilliam muttered.
"Richard is sensible," Georgiana countered. "Unlike certain older brothers who seem to believe their sisters should remain locked away in drawing rooms until they are thirty. Elizabeth’s sisters are all in courtships now, are they not? And they are all near my age."
Elizabeth nodded for it was true. Lydia and her Lieutenant Galway had engaged in a lengthy courtship which she knew would culminate in an engagement soon. Kitty and her Mr Poulett had resumed their courtship last month.
It seemed the young man had finally found the courage to stand up to his mother and prioritised his happiness over his family’s societal obligations. Even Mary was courting a young curate who had moved into Meryton recently. And Jane was of course happy with Mr Bingley.
“Well, the Bennet family has their own rules when it comes to courtships,” Fitzwilliam said with a smile.
“My mother has her own rules, you mean. My father simply goes along with her wishes and whims.”
“As any good husband should,” Georgiana said. “And Lord Greville would make a wonderful husband. I know it.”
Elizabeth bit back a smile at the exchange. The relationship between the siblings and their easy banter brought more spark to their lives at Pemberley. It reminded her of her own family, whom she missed dearly, despite seeing them recently at Jane’s wedding.
"I believe Lord Greville sounds delightful," she said diplomatically. "And I should very much like to meet him when he calls. Assuming, of course, that my husband can be persuaded to grant permission for such a visit."
Darcy's expression shifted, something between resignation and amusement crossing his features. "I see I am to be outnumbered in this matter."
"Precisely," both women said in unison, then dissolved into laughter.
They played the next hand in companionable silence, broken only by the occasional comment or groan of dismay when a particularly poor card was played. Georgiana won the round, crowing with delight as she collected her winnings—a handful of counters they had been using in lieu of actual money.
“A letter from Lady Catherine arrived this morning,” Elizabeth shared.
Her husband raised an eyebrow. “What did she say?”
“She informed me that certain reports regarding Pemberley's management had reached her attention. Reports which suggested that I had been performing my duties as mistress of the estate with a degree of success that she had not anticipated, given my inexperience and inferior breeding.”
He frowned. “Praise is what Lady Catherine typically offers in place of an apology.”
“It’s something, at least. More than I expected from her, honestly.”
“She can praise you all she wants,” Fitzwilliam replied in a flat tone, “but she remains unwelcome here until she provides a proper apology.”
“That’s only fair.” Upon her return, Georgiana had been informed about everything that occurred. Now she nodded in agreement. “I love my aunt dearly, but in this instance, she behaved quite terribly.”
“I’m flattered that you two seem to hold me in such regard, but I do not wish for you to alienate Lady Catherine for my sake,” Elizabeth said.
She was about to say more when Fitzwilliam set down his cards and looked at her with an intensity that made her heart flutter.
“You matter so much to me and all of us here at Pemberley. Lady Catherine hoped to ruin our marriage with her lies and I'm glad she did not succeed,” he paused, his eyes capturing hers in a loving manner that made her pulse quicken. “If anything, it made me aware of something important.”
“Which is?” The question emerged as barely more than a whisper.
“That I fell in love with you twice," he said simply.
"Once with your words on paper, before I even knew who had written them.
And then again with you as a person—your laughter, your kindness.
Discovering that you were both the brilliant correspondent and the remarkable woman standing before me?
That only deepened what I already felt."
Elizabeth felt the sting of happy tears at the border of her vision.
The best part about Fitzwilliam, among other excellent qualities, was his constant reminder of how important she was to him.
He had taken to doing that even more since the incident with Lady Catherine.
It was as if he wanted to leave no room for any doubts about his feelings for her.
Georgiana had tactfully excused herself at some point during this speech, she realised, leaving them alone in the drawing room.
"And I love you," she said to him, her voice thick with emotion. "Because you are good and kind and you make me laugh even when I want to be serious. Because you see me—truly see me—and love me anyway."
Fitzwilliam covered the distance between them and kissed her softly. They sat together in the golden afternoon light, the abandoned card game forgotten, and the world narrowed to just the two of them.
Outside, spring was transforming Pemberley's grounds into a riot of colour and life. Indoors, Elizabeth held her husband close and marvelled at the strange, wonderful path that had brought them to this moment.
THE END
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