Epilogue
Conservatory
Pemberley
June, 1817
The aroma that hung in the air was rich, if not entirely pleasant, with the mingled smells of fruit and the faint scent of manure. The air was warm and still, with the glass windows blocking the wind outside. Exotic plants stretched sharp spiny leaves over white gravel paths, orange trees bowed under the weight of white blossoms and small green fruits, while grape vines twisted along their trellises. Several clay pots clustered in front of a south-facing window, intermittent sunlight caressing the spike-crowned bulbs of fruit growing in the hearts of each jagged plant.
“Lizzy, they are marvelous,” Jane Bingley remarked, looking in wonder at the pineapples set about in pots.
“They are,” Elizabeth agreed with a smile. “I will tell the head gardener to pick a few and enjoy them for a meal tomorrow.”
“Truly? They are far too dear, are they not?”
Elizabeth laughed and linked her arm in her elder sister’s. “Fitzwilliam says that there is no point in having such a fine conservatory and lovely fruit if we are not to eat what we like. Moreover, pineapple is one of the foods which most agrees with me at the moment.”
Jane turned a sympathetic look on her sister and asked, “Is it very bad this time?”
Elizabeth shook her head. “No. In truth, I feel better than I did with my first two pregnancies, which makes me wonder if I am carrying a daughter. We will see. At any rate, I am managing quite well so far, and am extremely thankful for fruit, which tastes delicious when so many things do not.”
Jane nodded and said, “It is amusing that thus far, none of us have birthed a daughter! I think even Mamma is ready for a granddaughter after five grandsons.”
Elizabeth nodded her agreement, opened the door of the conservator, and stepped out onto the east lawn, where her two sons, Bennet and Alexander, were racing in circles, along with their two Bingley cousins, Richard and Allen. In addition, three setter puppies were dashing from one child to another, barking madly. It was pandemonium, but Elizabeth merely smiled at the three nursemaids in attendance. It was very good for the children to enjoy fresh air and exercise.
“They are an exuberant crew,” a male voice said from behind her, and she spun around to smile at her beloved Fitzwilliam, who was standing next to Charles Bingley, both still dressed in traveling attire.
Elizabeth planted a joyful kiss on her husband’s lips. “Welcome back, darling. I was not expecting you and Charles until tomorrow. Was your tour of estates for sale in Derbyshire useful?
“Very useful,” Darcy agreed, turning to Bingley.
Bingley grinned and said, “Darcy has been telling me about the pinery, Jane. He says that this new method of hot water heating is a major advancement.”
“The Darcys certainly have a remarkable crop of pineapples,” Jane agreed.
“Would you care to build a pinery at Whitemarsh Manor?” Bingley asked, lifting his right eyebrow.
Elizabeth turned a startled look on her brother-in-law, and Jane exclaimed, “Oh, Charles, you like Whitemarsh?”
Bingley nodded enthusiastically. “Indeed, Darcy and I agree that it is perfect for us. The estate is about half the size of Pemberley, which is enough work and income for our needs, and the land is excellent.”
“How far away is Whitemarsh from Pemberley?” Elizabeth asked eagerly.
“It is only five and twenty miles,” Darcy said, and the two sisters fell into one another’s embrace.
“Oh, I am so happy!” Elizabeth cried out. “It has been difficult being so far away these last five years, and now our children will be able to see one another far more often.”
Jane, too, had tears of joy in her eyes. “I am very pleased as well, not just because we will be closer to you, but also much farther away from Longbourn!”
Elizabeth chuckled. She knew that Jane and Charles, while some of the most patient souls in existence, were weary of Mrs. Bennet’s frequent visits and advice.
“Will you tell Mamma the news when she and Father and Lydia arrive in a few days?” she asked.
The older Bingleys exchanged glances and Jane said, “I think we will wait until the end of their visit.”
“That is very sensible,” Elizabeth agreed.
***
The Nursery
Pemberley
Five Days Later
Elizabeth Darcy wondered, with amusement, whether the nurseries of Pemberley had ever been so noisy. Not for the first time, she was grateful for the size of the great mansion, with plenty of space for families of all sizes and ages.
“I will see you later, darlings,” she told her sons, who, as much as they loved their mother, were currently more excited by the nursemaid entering with their afternoon meal.
She exited the room, walked a few yards down the corridor, and entered another room, this one fitted up for the smallest children.
Mary and Kitty were within, standing over a cradle, both wearing besotted expressions.
“Oh, Mary,” Kitty said, “he is absolutely beautiful.”
Elizabeth, walking in quietly, could not help but concur. Stephen Barstowe, age two months, looked a veritable angel, sleeping in his cradle, with one pudgy thumb stuck firmly in his mouth.
“Lizzy,” Mary said gently. “How are you, dear sister?”
“I am well,” Elizabeth replied, embracing Mary. “How are you and Jonathon?”
Mary smiled and gestured toward a side door, and the three sisters made their quiet way into the adjacent room, which was fitted with comfortable furniture and cots for the nursemaids who assisted in looking after the smaller guests of Pemberley.
They all sat down, and Mary said, “We are very well, though quite busy. I realized this morning that we have not seen one another in a fortnight, which seems odd given that we live close by. However, Jonathon has been exceptionally active with the parishioners, and of course, I am rather tired, since Stephen is not yet sleeping through the night.”
“But you are happy as a rector’s wife?” Kitty asked timidly.
“Oh, very much so,” Mary replied, and her radiant smile made her genuinely pretty. “Jonathon and I are a perfect match. I love serving the parishioners of Kympton, and my husband is such a wonderful man of God. And as for the baby – I never imagined I could love another person so much as my little Stephen.”
“I confess to being rather nervous about my upcoming confinement,” Kitty said, looking down at her bulbous form, “and then the thought of months of absolute fatigue. I have never been as strong as you.”
“Kitty, my dear,” Mary said, leaning forward to pat her younger sister’s knee. “You know perfectly well that Mother and Jane and Elizabeth and I all bore our children with perfect ease. Moreover, Sir Hugh is a wealthy man, and you will have all the servants you need to help you with your child. Indeed, if you cannot nurse your baby, I am certain he will find a wet nurse for you.”
Kitty nodded, her brow furrowed, and said, “But all of you have nursed your children, and I feel guilty at the thought…”
“You ought not,” Elizabeth said firmly. “Not everyone can nurse a child. If you can, do. If you cannot, be thankful that your husband can and will hire a wet nurse. Indeed, my dear, if there is one thing I have learned in the last years, it is that everyone’s circumstances and characters are different, and what is advantageous for one person may not be for another.”
“That is true enough,” a new voice said from behind them, and the three turned to observe Lydia Bennet, followed by Georgiana Darcy, enter the room.
“Lydia, dear! How are you?” Elizabeth asked, rising to her feet and pulling her youngest and tallest sister into her arms.
“I am well and thankful to be at Pemberley,” Lydia said, her face twisted in a pout. “It is a long journey from Longbourn, and Mamma spent most of the time complaining that I am not yet married.”
Elizabeth could not help but laugh at these words, and after a moment, the other ladies laughed with her.
“Poor Mamma,” Mary remarked when they had quieted. “Four daughters well married, and yet she is still not entirely at ease with one unwed child.”
“Well, I, for one, am very pleased that you are not yet married, Lydia,” Georgiana declared. “I am looking forward to next year’s Season with you at my side again.”
“I am too,” Lydia declared, gently grasping Georgiana’s hands and spinning her around. “I know that when I was much younger, I thought it would be wonderful to be the first Bennet daughter married. Now that I know how much work it is to be mistress of a house, and mother of children, well, it all sounds very exhausting!”
“I want to marry,” Georgiana said once Lydia had stopped spinning her, “but I too am enjoying this season of life here at Pemberley, with plenty of time to learn about managing a household and play the pianoforte.”
Elizabeth, looking at the two girls, smiled with satisfaction. Lydia had spent most of the last five years living with one or the other of her sisters, and while she was still lively, she was now far more careful in her actions and speech. She and Georgiana had both enjoyed two Seasons in London and come away unengaged both times, though Elizabeth thought that Georgiana was quite interested in the third son of the Earl of Battersea, whose estate was only thirty miles from Pemberley. It remained to be seen if this year would bring about an engagement between the two.
As for Lydia, well, Elizabeth was not anxious about her marital status in the least. She need not ever marry, surrounded as she was by wealthy and kindly brothers by marriage, and perhaps that was the best thing for the effervescent lady who was not yet ready to settle down with house and husband and children.
“I had better greet Father and Mother,” Kitty said, standing up and shaking out her skirts. “I have not seen them in six months, and Mamma will wish to give me advice about childbirth.”
“We should all go down,” Elizabeth agreed, but Mary said, “I need to feed Stephen first. Would you send Molly here so she can look after the baby when I am finished?”
“Of course,” Elizabeth assured her.
***
Dining Room
Pemberley
Dinner Time
The servants had added all the leaves to the dining table, thus extending it to its full length. It was a change that was eminently necessary because, though the Darcys ordinarily preferred a shorter, more intimate table, their profusion of guests required the extra space. The Bingleys rubbed shoulders with Kitty and Sir Hugh Milner, while the Barstowes sat by Lydia and Georgiana and Mrs. Bennet. Mr. Bennet was finding common ground with Richard Fitzwilliam, as Anne Fitzwilliam ate steadily beside him. Darcy presided over the head of the table, and Elizabeth herself sat at the foot where she could see her entire family.
It was a good view. The faces that ringed the table were happy, smiling and laughing, and Elizabeth's heart sang with contentedness. She remembered fractious Bennet family dinners of tears and bickering and snide comments or whining, as often as amity. Not so, now. Everyone was well-content with life. The four married sisters each loved their husbands and children dearly, and Lydia was living vibrantly as a sister and a friend. Mrs. Bennet no longer feared hedgerows and penury with four daughters married to kindly and generous men, and thus she no longer had nervous attacks and looked both younger and prettier than she had before Jane’s marriage. Mr. Bennet, despite having gone entirely grey, was as sound in mind and body as he had ever been, and he contemplated with pleasure spending the majority of the next two weeks ensconced in a leather armchair in Pemberley's expansive library.
Richard and Anne Fitzwilliam were beloved and welcome guests. Elizabeth had been deeply surprised when she received the letter from Anne announcing their marriage. Upon further reflection, Elizabeth and Darcy had agreed that it was not truly that surprising.
Anne had evicted Lady Catherine to the Dower House when she turned five and twenty, and a solicitor had arrived with Anne's uncle Matlock to arrange for her to take control of her inheritance. While Lord Matlock handled Lady Catherine’s fury at being banished from Rosings, Anne had immediately started working with the solicitor and her mother's steward on the many necessary changes to Rosings.
Richard Fitzwilliam had sold out of the army shortly thereafter and began making many extended visits to Rosings. Anne, determined as she was, and as much as she was reading, had often found herself overwhelmed by her new duties and the vast amount of care the long-neglected estate and tenants needed. Trained as he had been as a young man to take over the family estate should anything happen to his brother, Richard had stepped ably in to help, and to ensure that Anne came to dinner in the evenings and rested and smiled and laughed and took time to simply heal. Without Lady Catherine overseeing every moment of Anne’s life, she continued to grow stronger, thriving in the sun and over the dinner table.
So perhaps it was no great surprise that Anne and Richard had married some ten months previously. Elizabeth hid a smile in a bite of beef roast at the thought of Mr. Collins presiding over their wedding. She remembered well how absurdly devoted he had been to his much-revered patroness. Of course, Lady Catherine no longer was his patroness, but he now owed allegiance to Anne, as Mistress of Rosings. She did not demand slavish adoration from her benefactors, and between her practicality and Charlotte’s quiet good sense, Mr. Collins had settled into being a steadier man. He had steadied enough, even, to marry Anne and Richard without a single word of treacherous, ungrateful daughters or usurpers parroted from the outraged Lady Catherine.
The newlyweds had entrusted Rosings to their steward and come north to Derbyshire to enjoy the cooler weather and the company of their cousins. They would stay for a month or so before departing again to travel on to the Fitzwilliam estate of Green Hedges, some fifty miles away, to spend time with Richard’s family.
Elizabeth took a bite of her potatoes – one must admire such delectable potatoes! – savoring the butter and the salt that brought out the earthy flavor. She looked down the table at her darling Fitzwilliam. He was stooped a little towards Jane and smiling slightly as she spoke, though Elizabeth could not hear at that distance what she was saying. Darcy replied and Jane laughed slightly. He glanced up to see his wife watching them and gave her the tender smile that was hers alone. Elizabeth laid down her fork momentarily and smiled back, her heart swelling with love.
How close they had come to never having the love they shared now! Elizabeth could only shake her head as she considered their early interactions, his pride and her prejudice, his wordless adoration of which she had been entirely ignorant, her own barely veiled hostility that he had thought to be courtship! There had been indeed been many challenges that faced them both.
Fortunately, they had found love through a little plain speaking.
The End
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Reviews help authors more than you might think. If you enjoyed Pride Mary and Kitty were sitting side by side on Lydia’s bed reading the novel The Vicar of Wakefield , and Lydia and Jane were sitting on the window seat, with the younger, taller girl leaning slightly into the eldest Miss Bennet.
“I apologize for the delay,” Elizabeth said, stepping in and closing the door.
“Nonsense, Lizzy,” Mary returned, lifting her head from her book. “We were hoping it would take a little while. I assume that Father was well enough to sign the papers since you were closeted with him for fifteen minutes?”
“Yes, he was,” Elizabeth declared with relief. There were times when she had to visit Mr. Bennet three or four times before finding him in the right mood to sign necessary documents.
She sat down on Lydia’s narrow bed and leaned back against the wall with a sigh. She desperately wished for a walk. Perhaps after this meeting, she would be able to sneak outside for much needed fresh air and exercise.
“We will not keep you long,” Mary said quickly, obviously catching her mood. “I merely wished to tell you of our visit to Aunt Philips’s house today. She told me that Netherfield Hall is let at last.”
Elizabeth sat up with interest, “Indeed! Do you know any details?”
“We do,” Kitty piped up. “Aunt Philips says that his name is Mr. Bingley, and he is a young gentleman with a large fortune of some four or five thousand pounds a year. He came down and toured Netherfield Hall and was so pleased that he immediately chose to take it. He will be moving in by Michaelmas.”
“Is he married or single?”
“Single, according to Aunt Philips,” Kitty announced.
“He does not have his own estate elsewhere in the kingdom?” Elizabeth queried.
“I believe he is the son of a successful man of trade and thus does not have an ancestral estate,” Kitty explained. “We wished to ask you whether we should tell Mother of this gentleman’s arrival.”
“No!” Elizabeth replied forcefully and then, seeing the distressed look on her second youngest sister’s face, continued more gently. “No. Mother will learn soon enough of Mr. Bingley’s appearance in our sphere, but Father will not visit the man and Mother will only fret about it. Best to wait for as long as possible to tell her.”
“Aunt Philips will tell her soon enough,” Mary commented grimly.
“Mother has been especially fretful of late and not inclined to go to Meryton,” Jane mused. “If the horses are busy on the farm, then the coach will not be available.”
Elizabeth smiled at her sister, though a little sadly. Jane used to be completely incapable of any kind of manipulation, but the last months had been hard on them all. The eldest Miss Bennet had learned the necessity of managing their mother, sometimes through mild subterfuge.
“The horses are quite busy on the farm,” Elizabeth assured them all. “So yes, we will wait as long as possible. For all we know, the man will not be interested in mingling with his neighbors. While he is reputedly single, he may already be attached to a young woman. There is no reason to raise hopes for Mother any sooner than necessary.”
“That is what we thought,” Mary agreed, rising to her feet, “but we wished to check with you. Come Kitty, let us retire to our room to read more of the novel together, shall we?”
Kitty nodded and departed with Mary, leaving Jane, Elizabeth, and Lydia. Elizabeth cast a longing glance toward the door but did not move, responding to the silent look of entreaty from Jane.
“Mother spoke to Lydia again this morning about going out into society,” Jane explained. “Lydia does not wish to do so, but Mother is most insistent.”
Elizabeth ran a weary hand across her face and sighed, “My poor sister, I am so sorry. I had hoped Mother had given up on that desire the last time we spoke of it.”
Lydia hunched angry shoulders, “She says that Jane is growing old, you are too high-handed to find a husband, Mary is plain, and Kitty is sickly. She actually said she thought I might marry first, as if I wish to do so! It makes me so angry, Lizzy! How can she pressure me in such a way when I still miss Matthew so very much?”
Jane reached an arm around her young sister’s body and pulled her closer still, “I know you do, Lyddy. Mama misses him too, but in a different way.”
“All she seems to care about is that her only son died and now Longbourn will be lost when Papa is dead. Matthew was my twin brother! I loved him so very much. I will miss him until the day I die and I will not go out into society and dance and smile and pretend that everything is all right! He has only been gone six months!”
“I know, my dear, I know,” Jane murmured, pressing a kiss into her sister’s glossy brown hair. “We all miss him, but of course you were the closest to him of all. I cannot pretend to know how you feel, but I too grieve deeply over the loss of our dear brother.”
This provoked sobs in young Lydia Bennet, and Jane wrapped her loving arms around the girl while tilting her head toward Elizabeth. The two eldest Miss Bennets could often speak without words, and Elizabeth knew that Jane would care for their youngest sister while Elizabeth escaped.
She did leave, creeping out of the room, down the stairs, and through the back door into Longbourn’s garden.
Elizabeth strode quickly toward a path which wound through the forest, not relaxing until she was shielded by trees from the house. She needed time alone, she must have it else she would go mad, but she was the one that the servants and tenants came to for direction, and if anyone saw her – well, she would feel obliged to stop and speak to them.
After five minutes of brisk walking along the winding path, Elizabeth felt the knot of stress in her neck unfurl. She found herself breathing more deeply, inflating her lungs with the crisp, fresh-scented air. Her eyes took in the beauty of the woods in autumn; it had thus far been a chilly September, but today the temperatures were pleasant. The autumn leaves were beginning to show splashes of yellow and orange in the midst of the summer’s greenery. Holly berries glinted, bright sparks of red in the underbrush where squirrels and birds rustled and chirped, calling to each other.
Her eyes filled with tears. She loved Longbourn. She loved its tenants, its land, its forests, its manse. She had worked hard and suffered much these last years, but she would not regret the hard work, the late nights, of keeping the estate in good health until her father passed on and the lands and house went to her distant cousin, Mr. William Collins.
She found herself praying for her father, that he would break free from the torment in his soul, that he would be freed from his love for alcohol, that he would live a long and healthy life, for all their sakes.