16. Epilogue
Epilogue
D uring the walk later that day, Mr Bingley and Jane managed to fall behind enough to settle their own business in the most satisfactory of ways. Mr Gardiner found himself in the wholly unexpected position of having to interview another suitor asking for the hand of another one of his nieces. Not that he was made to be unhappy by the necessity of standing in for his brother-in-law twice in one day.
The only one not wishing the two eldest Bennet sisters joy was Lydia. But this was considered understandable by both soft-hearted sisters as she had recently suffered severe distress. Though neither Jane nor Elizabeth could even begin to regret having their youngest sister separated from a villain. Lydia would have been miserable with such a husband, for Elizabeth suspected that he would have probably married her in order to control her career and love affairs more closely. She shuddered at the thought of such a violent man passing Lydia around for profit and most likely fodder for blackmail. No, as unpleasant as the business had been and as forlorn as Lydia was now, it had worked out in the best possible way. Lydia was back with those who loved her, despite her defiant, petulant moods. No one except a trusted few knew of her escapade.
All three sisters returned to Longbourn within a few days. They were within their home for a few brief hours when Mrs Philips arrived to announce that Netherfield was once again being opened to receive Mr Bingley and Mr Darcy, and that no ladies were in their party. Mrs Bennet was beside herself and began instructing Jane in hushed, lurid tones of better ways to ensnare a husband that were not all entirely proper.
“Mama!” Elizabeth cried when she could bear it no longer. Jane was so mortified that she had been rendered silent with her face crimson with embarrassment. “Your advice is unnecessary, for Jane and I have some happy news to report. We were going to wait until the Netherfield gentlemen came to call, but I find I can no longer tolerate your schemes for catching a husband.”
With a quick, pleading glance at Jane, Elizabeth began a recital of the happy news of the sisters’ engagements. Jane was still in shocked silence by what her mother had been advising her to do.
Mrs Bennet’s reaction was all that could be expected. After her initial, shrill raptures had calmed, she exclaimed, “And did you sing? Is that how you secured them? Jane has no need, for she is so lovely, but Elizabeth, surely you must have had to sing to catch Mr Darcy!”
“No! Neither of us sang, Mama,” Elizabeth lied. She glanced at a shocked Jane. “It was for ourselves alone that we were asked to marry.”
Mrs Bennet glared at Elizabeth with sharp, scrutinising eyes for almost a full minute. Elizabeth held her head high, unwilling to expose herself to any sort of irrational observations that might have arisen if Mrs Bennet knew of her singing being heard.
Lydia had not shared any of what had happened to her while in London. Except for Mr Bennet, who had a nearly full accounting of the travesty, everyone else was told that Lydia had simply become weary of life at Brighton and had impulsively travelled by herself to London and the Gardiner residence. That alone was shocking enough. Elizabeth, Jane, and Mr Bennet prudently kept the truth of her time in London to themselves.
After several days at home, Lydia had almost returned to her old self. Almost. There was a tempering of her fire and wilfulness that was most pleasing for her eldest sisters to witness. She was still very much the same Lydia, except now there seemed to be consistent moments of reasoning and self-restraint that would have hardly been possible a year prior. It left Elizabeth with the uneasy speculation that her sister’s misadventure had at least one redeeming outcome.
Mr Bennet was puzzled by the application for the hands of both his favourite daughters within an hour of each other. He had been anticipating the events, but was still left baffled and flustered. After Mr Darcy left his study, he muttered resentfully about installing a deadbolt on the door to prevent any suitors of Mary or Kitty from importuning him further for the remainder of the day.
The music that swelled Longbourn for the next month was divine. Both Jane and Elizabeth felt free to perform before their betrothed as much as they desired with no objection from Mr Bennet.
Occasionally, Elizabeth felt a pang of sheepishness at the fib she had told her father and mother. Darcy had heard her sing before he offered for her hand. She had indeed defied her father during her stay at the Hunsford parsonage. If there was siren blood coursing through her, she had perhaps lured Darcy upon the sharp rocks of devoted love. But how was she to explain all of the impassioned looks, gentle kisses, and persuasive words that followed her outraged, first refusal of Darcy?
Frequently, during the month before the marriages were to take place, the two couples were expected to chaperone each other during their long walks in the countryside. That was as strictly enforced as one might suppose it was. There were many hours when the couples were separated by sly design or outright collusion.
Once, Darcy and Elizabeth found themselves behind the very barn where Darcy had first caught the notes of Elizabeth’s voice raised in song. Pressed against the stone wall, Elizabeth clasped his back as they gave way to some passionate kisses, then her eyes fluttered open to gaze up at Darcy. She glanced over his shoulder and pressed him away.
“As we know, it is easy to be secretly observed whilst we are in this spot. I am afraid you must restrain yourself, sir.”
Darcy dropped his head and laughed. “You are correct, as always.”
“It is a funny place to cast a spell. Are you certain I have no siren ancestor?”
“No, you do not. You or your sisters. For what would have prevented me from also being lured away to Jane when I finally heard her voice last week?”
“Mmm. Good point. But I will point out that Charles seems to be even more powerfully enamoured of Jane since she has been permitted to sing for him.”
“Heaven forbid. You are the fortunate one, for every evening it is I who must listen to his praise of Jane.”
“And Charles does not hear similar accolades? You do not sing my praises with equal vehemence?”
“Not aloud. My thoughts about you are for me alone. Private, intimate, and, some of them, quite shocking.”
She breathed in sharply just before his lips pressed to hers once more.
Once it was time that they would be expected back at Longbourn, Elizabeth suggested they begin walking. Curving her arm through his, she looked up at Darcy and asked, “I assume there are some ponds or lakes at Pemberley?”
“Several. Why?”
“I expect there is one that may afford some privacy?”
“Of course.”
“Good. For gentlemen are not the only ones who entertain shocking thoughts. I look forward to swimming in that private pond with you one day.”
Darcy halted and turned to look down at her. Apparently, the notion of a lady forming such an idea took him entirely by surprise. But the surprise soon gave way to what Elizabeth could only assume was powerful anticipation.
“I very much look forward to taking you to that particular pond,” he said in a deep, husky voice.
“Without a hint of fear?” Elizabeth teased.
“No, of course not.”
“Some gentlemen would quail at the thought of swimming alone with a brazen siren.”
“Not this one. If this is to be a case of a man becoming the prisoner of a siren, I will declare to any who wish to hear that I enter the subjugation eagerly and whole-heartedly.”
“I shall remind you of that when we are alone, unclothed, in the pond, and under the light of a full moon, my love.”
To seal the bargain, she kissed him. And the helpless prey of the Hertfordshire siren did not resist in the least.