Epilogue 1
Nursery
Netherfield Park
Meryton
Morning
2nd April 1813
The rocking chair creaked in steady rhythm.
It, like the rest of the furnishings in the nursery, was elderly, but at least the room smelled clean and fresh, the servants having been busy before the Darcys’ arrival.
Old casements had been forced to open windows that had remained shut for more than a decade, and thick dust had been whisked away.
The carpets, too, had been freshly beaten, though the best beating could not disguise their age and wear.
The paint on the walls had long ago begun to chip and fleck, and the floor, despite being recently scrubbed, could have used a good polishing. Nonetheless, it was quaintly charming.
Elizabeth’s gaze went thoughtfully to the furniture, previously shoved into one corner and newly distributed throughout the room.
The cradle appeared ancient, and the rocking horse looked so precarious that Elizabeth rather thought it might fall into a pile of kindling if any child dared bestride it.
No children had been raised at Netherfield Hall for a long time.
Nonetheless, she was comfortable. Despite its age, the rocking chair was sturdy and had been equipped with thick cushions, and a great fire was crackling away in the fireplace, emanating welcome waves of heat.
It was now April, and after a long and cold winter, it was a pleasure to see the sun rise earlier each day and to observe the ground beginning to soften.
It was still cold outside though, so Elizabeth was grateful for the thick wool carpets on the nursery floor, even if they were faded.
She set the chair to rocking again and looked down tenderly at the warm little bundle in her arms. Luke Darcy was focused on the most important task of his young life.
Elizabeth had been amazed at the lightness of her newborn when the accoucheur had laid him in her arms, but six months in, she was more wont to marvel at how heavy he had become.
He was a lively and robust little boy, curious about everything and already showing a propensity to explore anything within reach.
He reminded his mother very much of herself, and she was grateful every day for his continued health and growth.
The doorknob rattled, and Elizabeth looked up as the door creaked open. The nurse would be arriving to take over care of the little boy so that Elizabeth could go down to visit her family. Rather to her surprise, however, it was not Molly who came in, but a tall, handsome, and very beloved man.
“Oh, good morning, Fitzwilliam,” she said, smiling at her husband.
“Good morning, my love,” Darcy said, walking over to plant a kiss on her head. Luke stopped eating and looked up to smile toothlessly at the sight of his father.
“Good morning, my son,” Darcy said, grinning down at the boy, before turning to his wife. “I fear I distracted him.”
“He has eaten enough for now,” she said, expertly lifting him and patting his back firmly, provoking a hearty burp on the part of the infant.
Darcy sat down on a chair across from his wife and son and said, “I received a letter from Mr. Emsworth about the galena mine this morning. I left it in your bedchamber for you to read at your leisure.”
“Thank you,” she said. She took a moment to be grateful, once again, for her husband’s honorable view about the land in Wales.
She had inherited it upon her majority, but because it had not been mentioned in the marriage settlements, it technically had devolved to Mr. Darcy as opposed to his wife.
But her Fitzwilliam would have none of that.
The land was hers, and while he was ready and willing to provide guidance as desired, he was determined that she would have the final say in its disposition.
Certainly, and here she suppressed a shudder, if she had been forced to marry Mr. Stirling, he would not have paid any regard to her desires regarding the land.
“Jane and your mother have arrived,” her husband continued, recapturing her wandering attention, and she sat up straight.
“Oh, I must find Molly to care for Luke!”
“I will take him,” her husband said, stretching out his arms toward the child.
She handed him over immediately. Fitzwilliam, unlike most men of his status, enjoyed spending time with his son and could be trusted to care for him well.
He took the child, nestled him into the crook of one arm, and then leaned over to kiss Elizabeth on the lips. “Until later, my love.”
“Until later,” she agreed with a smiling nod at her husband.
She cast one last fond look on the baby, who was looking up into his father’s face, drooling enthusiastically, and then she hastened out of the room, along the hall to the stairwell, which she descended with unbecoming haste.
She had seen neither Jane nor her mother in far too long.
The drawing room door was open, and she heard a murmur of feminine voices.
No creak of the floorboards betrayed her as Elizabeth stepped into the room, and she looked around eagerly.
There was no sign of Mrs. Bennet, but Jane stood by the fireplace, looking radiant as always.
Her simple wool gown, of a charming light blue, and the lacy white wool shawl about her shoulders, certainly flattered her.
It was, however, her expression of blissful happiness that truly made her beauty shine.
She was gazing rapturously up into Charles Bingley’s face. He in turn was staring at her in adoration, and Elizabeth smiled to herself at the sight. She knew that they would be very good to each other.
It was about time. For almost two years Jane had waited with the patience of a saint as Bingley moved back and forth between London and Netherfield, his mind as uncertain as his residence.
His heart, however, had remained true and had at last won out against any arguments in opposition to marrying Jane.
All the Bennets had rejoiced when at last Bingley had proposed, for both Jane’s marital happiness and her future financial security.
Elizabeth was happy for another reason; she derived a certain amount of glee from her sister’s triumph over Bingley’s sisters.
From her own knowledge and the occasional comment from the ever-kind Jane, she had a shrewd suspicion that the greatest obstacles to the union between Charles Bingley and Jane had, in fact, been Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst. Ambitious themselves and far stronger-willed than their mild-tempered brother, Elizabeth had no difficulty in believing that they had sought to induce him to abandon Jane.
She was pleased, and somewhat surprised, at their eventual failure, even if they had caused the courtship to linger for far longer than was usual.
At any rate, Bingley had come up to scratch only a month ago, finally requesting some time alone with Jane during one visit and sending Mrs. Bennet into a tizzy of joy as she had shepherded her three younger daughters away.
She had known already of Jane’s joy from the letters, but now, seeing the look in her beloved sister’s eyes, her heart was full of gratitude for Jane’s happiness.
The wedding was in three short days and practically upon them, and yet Elizabeth knew from experience just how hard it could be to await such an event.
She was glad that the betrothed couple had no need to hide their affection for one another, as she and Darcy had been forced to do.
Elizabeth was grateful for the Almighty’s kindness in bringing such a man into Jane’s life, who was her complement in every respect.
Mr. Bingley was far too mild for Elizabeth’s taste, but he would make an excellent brother-in-law and a perfect husband for gentle Jane.
He was a generous soul, and his new bride would be able to enjoy the benefits of her new wealth if she so wished.
Jane loved him and would have married him even if he had been rather poorer, Elizabeth knew, and honored her for it.
Pragmatically, however, a good income and a certain status made for a much more comfortable life, and she could think of no one who deserved it more than Jane.
“Lizzy!” Jane cried out, suddenly catching sight of her sister.
“Jane,” she replied warmly, hurrying forward to embrace her elder sister. “You look wonderful.”
“As do you,” Jane said. “Charles and I are so happy that you and Fitzwilliam took the time to journey here for the wedding.”
“We would not miss it,” she responded fervently.
“It is well enough, I suppose,” a familiar voice said from outside the open door. “I think that Jane will need to have it updated soon, because…”
The voice trailed off as Elizabeth turned, and a moment later, Mrs. Bennet hurried forward and pulled her into her arms, while Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst followed her into the room, both of them wearing irritable expressions.
“Oh, Lizzy, my dear!” Mrs. Bennet cried out. “How wonderful to see you! And how is my little grandson?”
Elizabeth kissed her mother on the cheek and said, “He is still small but far larger than when you last saw him, Mamma. He is upstairs in the nursery taking a nap, but I will be going up in two hours, and you are welcome to visit then.”
“It is so important for babies to get enough sleep, so I will wait,” Mrs. Bennet said with a decisive nod. “Oh, Lizzy, it is so good to have you and your charming husband here. Oh, I will soon have two daughters very well married! I shall go completely distracted.”
Elizabeth glanced at Charles’s two sisters and was not surprised to observe that both of them were genuinely frowning now.
Without a doubt, her mother’s statement was rather vulgar, but she found that she did not mind.
Mrs. Bennet had suffered for many years with fear that not only she, but her daughters, would be impoverished after Mr. Bennet’s death, and the addition of not one, but two, wealthy sons-in-law was definitely an answer to many anxious prayers.