Epilogue
E lizabeth awoke slowly and stretched her hands above her head. She was visiting Greenbriar Hall in Scotland, her uncle’s estate, and was enjoying a much needed respite from her duties as mistress of Pemberley. She looked to the other side of the bed and saw her husband was not there, but in his place was Bennet, her eldest son, now eight years old.
She stroked the hair falling across his face, then slowly slid out of the bed to avoid waking him. She found her husband in the sitting room attached to their chamber, looking better than any man had a right to so early in the morning. He sat at a small table set for tea and toast, his banyan tied about his waist and his hair disheveled as he read the morning paper.
“Good morning, Fitzwilliam.”
He looked up from the broadsheet and smiled at her. “Good morning, my love. Did you see Bennet is in our bed?”
“Yes, he is still asleep. What brought him to us?” She did not mind, but it was unusual. Bennet had not slept with her since he was five years old.
Darcy levelled a serious look at her. “He woke me in the middle of the night. Said he had a dream that felt too real.”
Elizabeth paled. “A dream?”
Darcy nodded. “He was falling off his horse and his arm burned painfully.”
She raised her hand to her mouth. “Was it broken?”
“He said we were both there, you were holding his other hand and I was holding him down, and the doctor was present. It sounds like a break.”
Elizabeth shuddered.
“Do you think,” Darcy began.
Elizabeth did not need him to finish. “I do not know. I suppose it is possible, though I have never heard of it happening to a man in the family. Granny had the gift, of course, and she said her grandmother before her had it. I have since learned that Aunt Violet has it as well. I do not think any of her children do, but perhaps one of the grandchildren might.”
“If a man did have it, he might simply not say,” said Darcy hesitantly.
Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “I will speak with him about them and get him a journal. We will soon know if it is more than just one dream.” She shot her husband a serious look. “And you should speak with him about managing his horse. And perhaps point out the safer paths.”
Darcy smiled. “Yes, dear.”
Before she could respond, their seven-year-old daughter burst into the room, her hair wild and tears tracking down her face.
“Cora, what is it?” cried Darcy, jumping up to rush to his daughter. He picked her up and pressed her head to his shoulder as she sniffled and wiped her tears on his banyan.
“I had the strangest dream!” Cora cried.
Darcy whipped his head towards his wife. Elizabeth’s shocked expression only confirmed what he was thinking. “Surely not?” he whispered.
Elizabeth bit her lip and shrugged her shoulders in a sheepish expression. There was nothing to be done for it, after all.
The End