Epilogue
Elizabeth had felt healed, physically and emotionally, for some time now.
She had almost certainly been with child in January.
To tell the truth, she had hardly paid attention to her lack of courses in December; it had been her first month at Pemberley, and she had been so busy learning about the estate and the house, helping Georgiana to decide on the Christmas decorations, hosting the neighbourhood’s children for carol singing as they passed out gifts of sweets and oranges, and later hosting the Gardiners and the Fitzwilliam family for a fortnight.
Finally, she was saying the last goodbyes to her dear Gardiner cousins, tears in her eyes as she contemplated how long it would be before she was likely to see them again—and that is when she found herself thinking fondly about the possibility that she might have her own child within the next year.
Suddenly, that fond wish had made her realise that she had missed her courses in December.
As a matter of fact, she decided, counting quickly in her head, it had been more than seven weeks since she had bled. Could it be…?
She had not said anything to William because she was not at all certain.
Three weeks into January, she had her courses—heavier and more painful than she had ever had before.
If she had been with child, this was a miscarriage.
William looked concerned. She was curled up in bed with a hot stoneware bottle, wrapped in flannel, affording her some pain relief, and when he asked if she was ill, she told him it was her courses.
To her surprise, a look of disappointment flitted across his face.
He almost immediately resumed his concerned expression… but….
“You knew?” she asked.
“Did you?” he countered.
“No, I was hoping I was carrying your heir, but I did not know for certain. I did not feel all the things ladies are supposed to feel—nausea, exhaustion, reactions to certain smells and flavours, tenderness in their breasts. The only thing I knew was that I had skipped a month…of bleeding I mean.”
“I was counting, too,” William said. “I will send for a physician.”
“I am fine, Will. You need not trouble yourself.”
However, he did trouble himself. The doctor concurred that she had probably conceived but then lost a baby, but he said that, given the fact that it was a very early miscarriage, she could try again as soon as she wished.
Curled up, in pain, she did not wish, just then.
The physician spoke at length with William, too, before he left.
And that was that. After her pain ceased, but she was still bleeding heavily, Elizabeth had quite a delightful time figuring out all sorts of activities she and her passionate husband could do, activities that would not result in another conception.
Some days into February, the bleeding stopped, too. They resumed all manner of bedtime activities, but Elizabeth told herself firmly that they were not “trying” to conceive.
At that time, Elizabeth did not feel entirely healed.
She was certainly healed physically, but she felt that her body had let her down.
Or, perhaps, she had let her body down? She had been extremely busy for weeks, scurrying around with jolly red bows hung on dark green boughs, jingling bells and mistletoe, holly and pinecones and all manner of decorations.
She had given out treats to more than two hundred children, and organised games and meals for the Christmastide house party.
She had helped servants plan and fill boxes for the tenants, and she had helped Georgiana plan and fill boxes for the servants.
She had done a good deal of physical play with her beloved cousins, who were really more like nieces and nephews to her—including ice skating, snowball fights, and making snow sculptures. Could she have done too much?
But that was surely nonsense, she decided.
She had seen tenants who were with child working hard in gardens and in the home, and she knew that some women—such as the laundresses that washed the Gardiner clothes—worked exhaustively at least eight of the nine months.
She brought up her worries to William, and he agreed with her analysis—no, she had not been too active.
It was just a common thing that happened to many couples, and now it had happened to them.
But now…Elizabeth had kept careful count, and she was almost positive that she was four months pregnant. But she did not wish to tell anyone, or have a physician or midwife examine her, unless she felt a quickening. It could still be another month….
William had been as loving as ever, as considerate of her emotions, as concerned for her health. She knew, though he did not say anything, that he had been counting.
He announced to her one night in June, “We are going on an outing tomorrow.”
“We are?” she asked, lifting one eyebrow. “When exactly will this outing commence, and where are we going?”
“We shall leave by phaeton, with a picnic basket and a certain green quilt, at eleven. Where we will eat our picnic is a surprise. But I will tell you this: as far as I know, you have not seen this particular part of the grounds.”
“There are many acres of Pemberley I have not yet seen, I am certain!” Elizabeth protested. “That hardly narrows the field down.”
“Well, I will not betray the secret, but I will tell you that you just uttered two words that pertain to our destination: the words narrow and field.”
Elizabeth said, “Since you are the very most delightful husband I have ever had, I will assume that tomorrow’s outing will be splendid, and I will attempt to thank you most cordially, in advance, tonight.”
“I am hopeful that you will thank me most cordially several times,” William growled in Elizabeth’s ear, “but as I am not currently busy, tonight will do for the first time.”
Darcy handed his wife up to the seat of the phaeton. The picnic basket and quilt were already secured, and he boarded himself and said, “Walk on,” to Penelope, the beautiful bay that was quite expert with the miniature vehicle.
“It is such a beautiful day, is it not?” Elizabeth murmured. She herself was the loveliest part of it, but Darcy kept his eyes firmly ahead. He took Elizabeth’s safety even more seriously now than ever, because he dearly hoped….
Well, it was too early to think about, he decided, and he firmly pushed his hope aside.
He was excited to show Elizabeth a sight for which he had been waiting two months. A cold, wet spring had shifted plant sprouting and plant growth, but his daily rides to the spot had finally paid off: it was the perfect time to see this rather ephemeral sight.
Most of the ride, they were both silent, but it was a cosy and companionable kind of quiet. He pointed out three scurrying rabbits, and she spotted a nightingale after they both heard its song. And then….
Darcy stopped and tied off Penelope, and he helped Elizabeth down. Putting the quilt under one arm and the picnic basket in that hand, he offered his wife his other hand. “This way,” he said.
The woods were beginning to brighten with bright and light green leaves on the trees and spring green grass on the ground. Plenty of sunshine streamed through the sparse canopy, and—
Darcy heard Elizabeth’s delighted intake of breath—
Between the trees was a bluish-lavender shimmer of colour. The blue wound through the woods in a narrow shape that very much looked like a river - but in fact it was thousands and thousands of individual bell-shaped flowers. It was the locally famous Pemberley bluebell woods.
“This is stunning, William! So very beautiful—I cannot believe my eyes!”
He explained, “Pemberley’s bluebell woods usually start flowering in April and are gone by June, but you know the way the temperatures have been, everything has been pushed back weeks.
But it is finally time. We will sit on the grass, not on our narrow field of bluebells, and we will make a memory of our first bluebell wood outing together. ”
“Wonderful! I have to admit,” Elizabeth said, “I am very hungry.”
“I am hungry, too,” Darcy growled. “Let me kiss you, Lizzy!”
She did let him, but she seemed to be hungrier for food than usual, and Darcy was more pleased than he wished to be, because that made him wonder even more if Elizabeth was in an interesting condition….
They ate quite a lot, and then they kissed quite a lot. They walked next to the bluebells, following the “river” its entire length, and then they walked back again, heading back to the phaeton.
“I do not wish to leave quite yet, " Elizabeth said. “Sit with me, William, if we have time.”
“We have no set plans for the day,” Darcy told her. “Of course I have time to sit with you.”
They did not end up just sitting; instead, they made some very dear memories. Afterwards, they spooned together, Darcy embracing her and closing his eyes against the warm sunlight.
“Will!”
Sitting up in alarm, Darcy asked, “What has happened? I apologise—I believe I fell asleep! What—?”
“I felt our baby move,” Elizabeth said. She was sitting up, waiting with a focused look on her face, and Darcy felt thrilled yet also extremely careful. He sat and watched and waited with her.
“I do. I feel something fluttering inside.”
“I doubt that I could feel it,” Darcy said, although he moved his palms to cup Elizabeth’s abdomen, which he had joyfully noticed this week was slightly protruding for the first time.
Elizabeth’s smile was radiant. “Later you will be able to feel it.”
“So, do we know for certain?” Darcy said. “Can we tell people?”
“I am certainly with child. There are no guarantees, even now, but, yes, we should contact a physician, possibly a midwife as well. We can tell our families.”
“You knew I was counting days and weeks, I expect?” Darcy tipped his head so he could see Elizabeth’s expression.
“I was certain you were. I cannot believe you happened to arrange a day to make a memory on the very day that our daughter or son made her or his presence known to us!”
“It feels…magical to have confirmation here, in this spot I had been desirous of showing you for months,” Darcy said. “I have a very good feeling about this.”
“I…have…hope,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, hopeful anticipation.” Darcy kissed her temple and the top of her head. “And whatever happens, good or bad, we will deal with it together. I love you so very much.”
“As I do you.”