Epilogue
The Darcys never planned their days. At Pemberley, they rose early each morning.
Throughout spring, summer, and autumn, Elizabeth generally accompanied her husband around the estate.
Such behaviour was unusual in a lady, yet she took a genuine interest in everything that concerned the vast property and the lives of its tenants.
They delighted in riding together and in each other’s company, whether beneath bright sunshine or through gentle rain.
Whenever they left Pemberley, their carriage was filled with gifts destined for the people Elizabeth visited: a young mother, a retired servant, or anyone whose welfare mattered to her.
One autumn morning, more than a year after their marriage, Elizabeth asked her husband to stop near a river where they enjoyed a small breakfast, having travelled farther than usual.
The morning was glorious. Although September was drawing to a close, the warmth of the sun still lingered, whilst a gentle breeze stirred the trees. Elizabeth was particularly fond of that spot, where the river wound its way towards a watermill visible in the distance.
“What is it, my love?”
Only a few days earlier, Elizabeth had given him the most wonderful news imaginable: they were to become parents. He treasured every day, aware that the time would soon come when they must return to London.
He had become almost constantly anxious, watching her with concerned eyes, whilst Elizabeth regarded the happy event with serenity and joy. More often than not, she succeeded in making him forget his fears and simply enjoy life beside her.
“I have received a letter from Georgiana,” she said, observing him closely.
“You received a letter from Georgiana?” he asked, feigning indignation. “I am completely ignored in this family. She asks you whether she may spend the summer at Netherfield or Luton, and all her requests lately have come through you. Now she writes only to you instead of addressing us both.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered simply.
He was grateful to her for transforming his shy little sister into an exceptional young woman and often marvelled at the ease with which his wife connected with everybody around her, whether family or friend.
“And what does my sister want this time?” he asked, wholly unprepared for the answer.
“To marry,” Elizabeth replied, watching him turn first pale and then red.
“What?”
Whether anger or alarm lay behind the outburst, Elizabeth could not tell, though she had feared precisely such a reaction. He still struggled to regard Georgiana as a grown woman.
“She is seventeen!”
“Yes, almost eighteen. She has been presented at court, and everybody in London would agree that it is an excellent age for marriage.”
“I do not care what people in London think!”
“I know. Yet you do care that our Georgiana is in love and that the gentleman in question is someone dear to us.”
“So there is a gentleman!” Darcy exclaimed.
“There usually is when marriage is being discussed,” Elizabeth replied with amusement, though her husband did not appear any easier.
“And who is this gentleman?” he asked, and Elizabeth saw that her brave husband was genuinely afraid.
“Richard Kendall.”
The previous year, already overflowing with happy events for the Bennets, had ended in triumph when Sophia and her mother, the Duchess of Beauford, were finally reunited after thirty years of separation.
It was a joyful conclusion to a dramatic story that had stretched across three decades.
Even the final chapter had been unexpected, for the duchess learned that Sophia was alive in New York only after a certain Andrew Stevenson of Ayr attempted to pass himself off as her grandson.
When the news reached London and the family learned that Sophia intended to cross the ocean with her two sons, the duchess decided to reveal the uncomfortable details of the affair to everyone.
“Just like a novel!” Kitty exclaimed, even though the only novels she knew were those Mary read aloud during long winter evenings at Longbourn.
Thomas and the duchess ultimately concluded that Andrew Stevenson posed no danger to them.
Three months later, when he returned to London accompanied by his father, they chose to forgive him.
Contrary to general expectations that Kitty would forget him amidst the handsome gentlemen she met in London, she remained steadfast, and to everyone’s surprise, Andrew Stevenson returned for her.
The repentant young man and his father requested Mr Bennet’s consent to the marriage.
Andrew Stevenson proved to be no scoundrel, merely a dreamer who had longed to acquire a family of his own.
They married and settled at Longbourn, closely observed by Mr and Mrs Bennet, who, after almost a year, had nothing but good to say of him.
Sophia and her two sons, one of whom was happily married with a charming family, settled at Luton. Darcy finally understood why Georgiana had preferred to remain in London with the Bingleys rather than accompany her brother and sister-in-law to Pemberley. The culprit was Richard Kendall.
“For the first time in my life, I neglected my duty towards Georgiana, and look what happened,” he said with increasing concern and sorrow.
Elizabeth could scarcely believe what she was hearing. He was treating his sister’s impending marriage as though it were a personal failure.
“What is the matter with you? It is a joyful event, Fitzwilliam. Marriage is a blessing.”
“Tell that to the duchess!” he replied with considerable feeling.
“What are you saying? What happened to Henrietta has nothing to do with Georgiana.”
“Nothing? Her future husband’s grandfather was the most notorious gambler in London!”
“And what of it? This young gentleman was born in Scotland and raised in the New World, far removed from such influence.”
“Vices may be inherited!”
“Stop. Please stop. We are going to pack our trunks and return to London. You are going to consent to Georgiana’s marriage to that delightful young gentleman whom we both admire.
I have never seen anyone more suited to her.
They share the same passion for music, and rarely does one encounter a gentleman so kind-hearted and unselfish. ”
Yet just when Elizabeth believed he was approaching acceptance, a tremendous “No!” burst from her husband.
“What is it, my love?” she asked carefully, studying his pale face.
“No. I shall oppose it. I shall lock her up at Pemberley. He cannot carry my sister away to America.”
Elizabeth took his hand and placed it gently upon her stomach.
“We have wonderful relatives in London, Hertfordshire, and Luton, but our family is here. It is you, me, this new life within me, and all the children who will follow. We cannot keep your sister imprisoned at Pemberley, and you must not do the same with our sons and daughters. One day they will leave us and live lives of their own.”
“You win, madam, where Georgiana is concerned,” he declared, rising to his feet. “As for the rest,” he added, pointing towards her stomach, “we shall see…”