Epilogue
Jane Bennet, the fearsome smiter of overgrown boys, gazed out the carriage window in wonder.
“Lizzy would love this place if she ever arrived. I can just imagine her first sight. She would feel compelled to say something pretentious like, ‘I have never seen a place for which nature has done more, or where natural beauty has been so little counteracted by an awkward taste.’”
Her companions laughed uproariously; Anne assumed a mournful expression. “Ah, but then wait until she looked around inside. She would be filled with regrets and heartache. I can imagine her whining with something like, ‘And of this place, I might have been mistress!’”
Ellen laughed, and added her own, “I’m thinkin’ she might interrogate the housekeeper like a French spy.”
Anne added, “Of course, that might go either way. Mrs Reynolds is the housekeeper and has known Fitzwilliam since he was four years old. She loves to sport with tourists, so about half the time she says he is the best master in the world, and the other half, the worst. It is all the luck of the draw.”
Not to be outdone, Jane added, “I wonder how long it will take Fitzwilliam to track her down. I imagine by now he has gathered at least a dozen men to start at Matlock and begin the hunt. She should still be somewhere within fifty miles.”
All three ladies were still laughing uproariously as they descended the hill from the first view. As they came in sight of the house, a most singular sight greeted them.
“How ‘n Earth did he get so many men in just one morning?” Ellen asked.
Anne returned, “There are at least a dozen wagons sitting in the drive, and… does that not look like a crowd of villagers? I am also curious why they are loaded with timber and stone. That seems unnecessary unless Fitzwilliam plans to build a tower to lock her in if she does not marry him. It all seems extraneous for hunting one wayward girl. I should think a horse and a copy of a note sufficient!”
Jane agreed with equal confusion. “There are no obvious building works here, or in Lambton. This is quite a place, Anne. Is Rosings anything like this?”
“It is gaudier, and much more uselessly fine. I will have to strip a lot of its ornamentation when I redecorate. It is about two thirds the size of Pemberley, and under my mother’s management has about a quarter of the net income.”
“Ouch!”
The exclamation from Jane would have mortified her a month before, but at that moment, she was just happy she had not cursed in the process.
“Yes, Jane,” Ellen said. “Jason will have his work cut out for him.”
Jane and Anne giggled, not entirely certain if Ellen was serious or not, while Anne sighed wistfully, which lent some weight to Ellen’s hypothesis.
When they came to a stop in front of the house, Anne remarked, “That is odd! One might think Fitzwilliam could at least come out to greet us.”
“It is most peculiar indeed,” Ellen added. “Since he obviously overreacted in his search, perhaps he was just too busy.”
As the coach settled, they saw the usual complement of footmen approaching—or what would be the usual complement if that was double what was required. Even Anne, a long-suffering veteran of her mother’s over-exuberance, was a bit shocked.
One of the men reached up to open the door, but instead of the step being pulled down, they heard a scream that would wake the dead.
“JANE!”
Looking down, all three women were shocked to see none other than Elizabeth Bennet leaning into the coach, yelling at them with a huge smile on her face.
“Oh, Janey!! I am so happy to see you. And you as well, Miss de Bourgh… Oh, rats… I shall call you Anne and you shall call me Lizzy and that is that. And Ellen… Ellen Taylor, it is wonderful to see you again. I have heard all about you. Is it true that you plan to marry Robert Breton sight unseen?”
All three women were somewhat overwhelmed, and then they saw a footman discreetly tap Lizzy on the shoulder. “Might I suggest the step, Miss Bennet?”
Elizabeth laughed and stepped back. “Of course, Thomas. Is this some of the initiative I have been pestering you about?”
Much to the three ladies’ surprise, the footman laughed. “Only if common sense and initiative are synonymous.”
With an even more peculiar laugh, Elizabeth slapped the man on the upper arm. “No more talking to Francis for you… synonymous indeed!”
The odd little footman smiled, and as Elizabeth stepped aside, he said, “The master would have liked to hand you down, ladies, but he is engaged in critical business. May I have the pleasure?”
None of the three had ever heard that many words in a row from a footman, but the rules of etiquette had been drilled into them from birth, and they naturally allowed him to hand them down.
Jane came first, and her sister wrapped her in a bear hug.
Anne followed, and Elizabeth wrapped her in a bear hug, which apparently was the thing at Pemberley, though Anne had no idea when it became fashionable.
As Ellen stepped down, the footman leaned close to her and whispered, “Breton is just going to die,” just before Elizabeth wrapped her in a bear hug.
Ellen looked at him curiously, but he was grinning ear to ear, and she surmised she would eventually either understand the odd exchange or not.
Once the ladies were on the ground, and mostly recovered from the overly exuberant greetings, Elizabeth spoke.
“I am so happy you made good time. It is barely nine-thirty, which is quite good—quite good indeed. We need to be at the church before eleven, so you must hurry. Stewart, this is my sister Jane. She will have to share with Margaret, but she has four sisters so it will not kill her. Oh, that did not make any sense. The gust wing is quarantined due to the measles, and we have injured from the fire in the family wing, so accommodations are a bit tight, so you will just have to share. Anne can go with Georgie. Ellen can go… well, let us worry about Ellen after she meets Robert. Anne, Estelle is Aunt Matlock’s maid.
She will help you. I believe you know her already.
Now hurry-hurry-hurry. You need to be at the church before 11, so there is no time to lose.
Stewart, I will show Jane to her quarters.
You can direct Anne and then come to help Jane.
Ellen, it is so-so nice to meet you. Robert is just going to die.
I hope you have a nice dress with you. Jane, you made sure Ellen has a nice dress, did you not?
Well, never mind. If you do not, Stewart can fix up one of mine…
well, actually, it is Georgie’s, but Stewart has altered them to fit me, so mine now, and I am quite certain you can get by with one of my dresses.
Jeff, please take Anne’s trunk to Lady Matlock’s room…
Anne, which is yours… well, never mind, you can sort it out.
Justin, you are to take Jane… this is my sister Jane, but you already worked that out…
well, at any rate, hurry-hurry, we do not want to be late.
Ellen, Robert is just going to die… wait, I said that before.
Am I making any sense at all? Well, probably not, but there you have it. ”
Elizabeth’s three companions just stared at her with their mouths open, thoroughly confused.
"Lizzy, Breathe!"
The shout from Jane startled everyone… including Jane.
"Now, Lizzy. You say we need to be in the church at eleven?"
Elizabeth was breathing fast and sounding slightly manic. "I am sorry… I sound like a lunatic. You would never believe that I have been acting mistress of this estate nearly a fortnight."
All three of her friends just stared at her with their mouths hanging open.
"Well, someone had to do it. We had the measles, and of course the fire… oh, you do not know about that. About half of Sudbury burned, so we had to take in 63 villagers, and frankly, at sixteen, Georgie was not quite up to it, so I helped her."
"You what?"
"I helped Georgie… Georgiana Darcy. Naturally, she coerced me into taking the mistress role, so I did it, and then Lady Matlock came, but she left me in charge, and then Fitzwilliam came home, and he left me in charge, and here we are. Simple, really!"
"But… but… but—"
Between the three horsewomen, they could not make a sensible reply, and were still staring when an attractive young lady of about sixteen appeared, running from the house without the slightest pretence of propriety.
"Lizzy, are you planning to stand around all day. We do need to get to the church."
Elizabeth started as if lit on fire, and just started speaking, when Jane said, "Calm down, Lizzy. First things first. When do we have to be at the church, and how far is it?"
Elizabeth calmed only marginally when Georgiana butted in. "Put on the face, Lizzy. That always works."
The three horsewomen looked on in puzzlement, then watched in astonishment as Lizzy stood up straight, stopped fidgeting, put her hands properly clasped in front of her, and became resolute as a Viking.
"Thank you, Georgiana. I cannot account for my—"
Georgiana laughed and turned to the horsewomen. "Pray forgive my sister, Ladies. She has been wound up tight as a spring for a fortnight, and of course, she is going from 'acting mistress’ to 'actual mistress’ in the course of a morning, so she should be allowed a bit of fidgeting."
"Explain that term, if you will,” Jane asked calmly. “I presume you are Miss Darcy."
Elizabeth laughed. "Well, this is fun! Oh, and forget changing. Your current dress is fine."
She turned to two footmen. "Johan, Luke, pray have warm water, soap, and towels brought to the anteroom by the green parlour. We shall refresh ourselves and leave from here."
In a muddle, the three remaining horsewomen spoke at once.
"Leave, to where?" Jane asked.
"How far is the church?" asked Ellen.
"What is an 'actual mistress’?" Anne demanded.