Epilogue Chapter 2
Netherfield Hall
The Darcy carriage came to a halt, and a moment later, a footman opened the door. Elizabeth Darcy looked at her husband, who said, “Go on, my love. I will ensure that the children and nursemaids are installed in the nursery.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said, accepting the help of the footman in alighting from the carriage. It was a warm but not hot day, and the breeze was welcome after many hours traveling. She hurried up the stone steps to the front door just as it opened to reveal the mistress of Netherfield.
“Oh Jane!” she cried out, and her elder sister pulled her into the vestibule and embraced her. The tears which she had been holding back for days finally escaped her brimming eyes, and in spite of the presence of various servants, she could not help but sob into Jane’s shoulder. “Oh, Jane!”
Jane clung to her in return for a minute and then said gently, “Come into the sitting room, my dear, and enjoy some tea. Where are Fitzwilliam and the children?”
Elizabeth released her sister and said, “He is helping the nursemaids with the children and doubtless took them through the side door. I told him that I would probably cry when I saw you, and I did not want to alarm the children.”
Jane nodded and hooked her arm in Elizabeth’s, and they quietly made their way to the east sitting room.
The former owner of Netherfield had decorated this room in various shades of scarlet.
Such colors did not match with either Jane's personality or her husband's, and though she had kept the warm tone, she had gentled the hues.
Wallpaper that was the soft orange of sunset had replaced crimson stripes, while cushions of pink and yellow sat on the walnut chairs with their cream upholstery.
Neither Jane nor Bingley was of an extravagant nature, and the furniture was sturdy and comfortable rather than fine.
The room was, to Elizabeth's mind, far more inviting now than it had been when Bingley had first arrived in Hertfordshire.
She glanced around appreciatively. The peach curtains had been drawn back and the windows thrown wide to let in a sultry breeze. The peonies were blooming in the garden outside, and the air was fresh and sweet with their scent.
Elizabeth walked over to the window and looked to the east. Hills and forests separated her from her childhood home of Longbourn, but she knew it was but three miles away, only a short walk.
She had not slept under the roof of Longbourn since before her marriage, but it was hard, nonetheless, to accept that a new master and mistress would soon dwell there.
“How is Mother doing?” she asked, turning toward her sister who had taken her place on a well-padded settee.
“Unfortunately, she is hysterical much of the time,” Jane said with a sigh.
Elizabeth sighed, unsurprised. “It was a horrible shock, I suppose. Father was such an excellent horseman.”
“Even the best of men can be thrown, especially when the horse is young and green. Coachman Jack even warned Father that Rufus was too much for him, but Father was too stubborn to listen.”
Elizabeth sighed again. “He was a stubborn man.”
“He was, and yes, the suddenness of his death was certainly extremely hard on our mother. She cannot be left alone. Mary and Kitty and Charlotte Turner take turns spending the days with her, and Hill spends the nights.
Elizabeth sighed and walked over to sit down next to her sister. “That is very kind of Charlotte.”
“She is wife to a clergyman, and feels it to be her duty,” Jane said.
“And do you think the marriage is a happy one?” Elizabeth asked worriedly.
“Oh yes, very much so,” Jane said confidently.
“Of course we miss old Mr. Allen, but his replacement is a wonderful young man, as shown by Mr. Turner’s eagerness to search for a sensible bride.
The Lucases were not able to give Charlotte much of a dowry, but she is worth her weight in gold as a parson’s wife.
She does a better job of soothing Mother than even I do, at least sometimes. ”
Elizabeth nodded gloomily and said, “I have never been particularly adept at managing Mother, but I am willing to try if you like. Do you know when the Collinses are arriving from Kent?”
“Mr. Collins sent Charles a letter informing him that he and his wife will arrive in two days, and then Mother will move here for at least a time.”
“She can live at Pemberley too, of course,” Elizabeth remarked. “Indeed, she might be happier away from Meryton. It will not be easy for her to see Longbourn under the control of another mistress.”
“Moreover, Charles and I are planning to give up Netherfield this autumn,” Jane said quietly.
Elizabeth turned a startled look on her. “Truly? I thought you were happy here!”
Jane shrugged and said, “Charles and I are both blessed with temperaments that allow us to be content in most circumstances, but we have been here these last years partly out of duty. Father grew increasingly odd, and our younger sisters preferred Netherfield to Longbourn. Indeed, Charles and I have long talked of moving north to Derbyshire when Lydia turned one and twenty. Now that Papa has passed on, Kitty and Lydia are no longer under his authority, and we can move sooner.”
“Where is Lydia?” Elizabeth asked.
“She is at Longbourn helping the servants pack up. While Lydia is far more sensible than she was three years ago, she cannot manage Mamma’s vapors. But come, Lizzy, I know that Mr. Collins married a parson’s daughter from a neighboring parish in Kent, but little else. I assume you know more?”
“I do,” Elizabeth said, forcing her thoughts away from her dead father and anguished mother with difficulty.
“I write to Anne Fitzwilliam regularly, and she tells me that Mrs. Phoebe Collins is a very sensible woman, far more sensible than our cousin, Mr. Collins, truly deserves. I am hopeful that Longbourn will be in good hands, even if Mr. Collins is not the wisest of men.”
“Perhaps he has improved somewhat now that Lady Catherine is settled in the Dower House and Richard and Anne Fitzwilliam are master and mistress of Rosings?” Jane asked hopefully.
Elizabeth nodded vigorously. “I am confident he has improved, yes. Darcy’s cousins do not want a sycophant, and Richard, as a former military colonel, is used to blunt language.”
“Good,” Jane said and then leaned over to kiss her sister on the cheek.
“I am so glad you are here, Elizabeth,” she said. “It will make the next weeks far easier with you and your husband helping with the details associated with father’s death.”
“I only wish we had been able to come sooner,” Elizabeth said, the tears filling her eyes again. “I hate to think of how much you have suffered these last days.”
“You are here now, Lizzy, and we are grateful.”
***
Dining Room
Netherfield Hall
Later
Elizabeth glanced up the table before returning her gaze to her mother.
She had helped Jane arrange table settings for dinner and placed herself near the foot of the house, where Mrs. Bennet took turns eating and whining.
Mrs. Bingley and her three younger sisters needed a break from their mother's voluble dismay, so Elizabeth had decided to gently field the widow's complaints over dinner.
It helped that she felt genuine compassion for Mrs. Bennet, who had served as mistress of Longbourn for nearly thirty years.
It was a great hardship to give up her home and position in society, and the lady had never been the stoic sort.
While the conversation at this end of the table could not be considered pleasant, the food at least was good.
Jane was a prudent housewife, not using her dinner table as an opportunity to show off her wealth but ordering fresh fruits and vegetables and supplementing with preserves.
Elizabeth spread blackberry jam across warm bread as she contemplated the sliced pork and pickled vegetables on her plate.
The cook at Netherfield was excellent, and while Mrs. Bennet might not approve of the curtailed menu, Elizabeth certainly did.
As much as Elizabeth had appreciated her mother's fine dinners, she had known they were overly expensive.
Mr. Bennet was not concerned enough with the future well-being of his wife and daughters to lay aside any of Longbourn's considerable income for their upkeep after his death.
His only attempt to save his womenfolk from poverty was when he attempted to force Elizabeth into an unwanted marriage with Mr. Collins.
When that had failed, the master of Longbourn had retreated into the library and metaphorically washed his hands of the business.
Mrs. Bennet, likewise, had always been far too proud of her position as a gentleman's wife to even consider saving money, every pound going to living and to increasing the visible emblems of her status. But certainly, that was normal. Everyone spent the money that came in each year from their property. Saving was such a radical idea that Mrs. Bennet had probably never even considered such a course of action, choosing instead to spend on her daughters’ gowns and accouterments in hopes of finding a wealthy husband or two.
Fortunately for her and her three younger daughters, the elder two had married good, kind, rich men, who could well afford to support indigent relations.