Epilogue 2 #2
Georgiana glanced at her nephews with amusement. Based on the fact that the boys were jumping up and down in unison, she guessed that they were both eager to burn off some energy.
She looked at her husband, who smiled and said, “Our boys are out inspecting a new colt, which was born only two days ago. Brother, would you and your sons enjoy seeing the new colt?”
Christopher’s eyes lit up, and he said, “Oh, I would, very much so. What do you think, boys? Would you like to see the horses?”
Based on the prompt, enthusiastic yelping, the answer was definitely yes. Within a minute, the two brothers had swept the children out of the house, and Georgiana looked over at her sister by marriage.
“How are you, really?” she asked, and Kitty grimaced and said, “I would like some tea if you do not mind. My nausea is unquestionably diminishing, but I still do not enjoy bumping along in a carriage, even if Christopher bought the best one that money can buy. I confess I am rather dreading the trip to Pemberley in three days, but it will be worth it to see the rest of our sisters again. And it is only forty miles away.”
“Come along,” Georgiana said sympathetically, linking her arm into Kitty’s and guiding her toward a sitting room. One of the maids standing nearby murmured that she would fetch tea, and within a minute, the ladies were sitting in comfortable chairs by a large window which faced a rose garden.
“I am sorry you have been sick,” Georgiana said.
Kitty looked down at her slightly burgeoning abdomen and said, “It is worth it for another child.”
“It is,” Georgiana agreed. “Are you hoping for a daughter this time?”
Kitty shrugged and said, “I truly do not mind either way. I adore your little Bella, but given Mary’s struggles, I am just happy to be able to conceive a child.”
“Yes, poor Mary,” Georgiana said mournfully. “I keep praying that God will grant her and Alec a baby.”
Kitty straightened and said, “Have you not heard? She is increasing!”
“Is she?” Georgiana asked, her eyes lighting up. “Oh, how wonderful!”
“Yes, she is due in November. I only found out a week ago. I think she was worried about telling anyone earlier.”
“I understand completely. It is hard not to expect the worst after six years of waiting.”
“Absolutely,” Kitty said with a brisk nod, just as a maid entered with tea service.
Georgiana poured tea with plenty of milk, just the way she and Kitty liked it, and the pair began speaking of various things; husbands, children, estates, dresses, neighbors, and the like.
She found herself glancing out the window frequently, relishing the sight of the familiar trees and fields.
Twelve years previously, she had been the only daughter of an ancient family, with few relations.
Now, thanks to Elizabeth Darcy and Kitty Lewis, she had a multitude of sisters and brothers by marriage, along with a plethora of nephews and nieces. It was glorious.
***
Drawing Room
Grenfell
Derbyshire
“It has been so long since I have seen Elizabeth!” Mrs. Lydia Wycliffe declared. “She has not even met our dear Theodore! Essex is such a long way away from Derbyshire, especially with a child. I am so thankful that David was willing to travel north for this gathering of former Bennets.”
Jane Bingley poured her youngest sister a cup of tea and said, “I know we are looking forward to all being together again. The last time was when Mamma died.”
Lydia was, at the age of seven and twenty, much calmer than she had been a decade previously, but she was still capable of being overly blunt.
“I am not sorry that I missed Father’s funeral,” she said. “He never liked me that much anyway, and I was thankful that I was confined after Theodore’s birth so I did not need to bother much with mourning clothes.”
Jane glanced with some concern at her sister-by-marriage, Lady Caroline Montrose, who was sitting quietly in the corner with her own cup of tea.
The older lady said, “I entirely understand that, Lydia. I cannot tell you how relieved I was to be out of blacks last month and now am counting down the time that I need to be in half mourning.”
Lydia turned a grave face on Caroline and said, “Do you miss your husband?”
Jane winced at this direct question, but Caroline replied readily enough, “Not in the least, I assure you. He was a truly dreadful man, and I am far happier his widow than his wife. I know that is not an appropriate thing to say, and of course I would not reveal it in company, but I will not lie to my family.”
Lydia looked genuinely sympathetic now, and she said, “I am sorry that he was terrible. Perhaps you will find a new husband someday, and he will bring you the joy that you deserve.”
Caroline smiled tremulously. “I cannot even imagine such a thing now, but I definitely am jaded by marriage, and in any case I have my two daughters to think of.”
Lydia leaned forward and said, “There are many good men, and you know it. All my sisters are happy in their marriages, and I cannot imagine my life without my dear David.”
Caroline hesitated for a moment, and then said, “This is, perhaps, an indelicate question, but do you mind that he is so much older than you are?”
Lydia shook her head firmly. “I do not mind at all. Indeed, I think I need a husband who is old enough to provide me with wisdom. I mean, I know I was very foolish when I was young and chased after the most ineligible men. I can only be thankful that Charles and Fitzwilliam forced me into boarding school after that stupid affair in Meryton.”
Jane looked at her sister in surprise. She had believed that Lydia had grown more discerning in the intervening decade since that ill-planned flight, but she had not dared to hope that Lydia had also learned to be grateful for the intervention of her brothers-in-law.
In her infatuation with romance and eagerness for marriage, seventeen-year-old Lydia had convinced young Zachary Lucas, the third son of Sir William, to run away to Scotland for a hasty marriage over the anvil.
Zachary, a young man of average intellect and no better than average features, had been as putty in the hands of the lovely and willful Lydia, bowled over and delighted at her professed interest in him, and eager to fall in line with any plans she made.
It was well for all involved that Sir William and Lady Lucas were not fools.
When the blacksmith had quietly informed them that Zachary had tried to hire his carriage, they had at once confronted their son.
It had not taken long at all for him to confess the whole arrangement to them, and the two incensed parents had immediately descended on Longbourn to warn the Bennets.
It could have been worse, of course. Young Zachary had harbored only the most strictly honorable of intentions.
Lydia could have flirted and run off with, say, an officer of the militia, who would likely not have behaved honorably at all.
However, neither would it have been a successful marriage, for Sir William, despite being knighted and in a comfortable position, had no great portion to leave to his younger sons, and Lydia had no dowry worth mentioning.
Love was very important, Jane knew, but she was also cognizant that an abundant income would always be necessary to Lydia's happiness.
Such practical concerns had never once occurred to the younger Lydia, and she had then been more inclined to laugh at scandal than be frightened by the prospect.
Mr. Bennet, who had failed to lift a finger to restrain her before, had permitted her brothers-in-law to pack her off to a very select seminary for young ladies.
How furious she had been! How she had shrieked, held in the carriage with Darcy on one side and Bingley on the other!
Jane could still remember her own dismay at Lydia's distress and the scandal she had nearly visited upon them all, and her blithe disregard of the same.
Yet boarding school had done Lydia good.
For the first time in her life, she had been under the control of authority figures who enforced the rules, and her teachers encouraged her to think about more than merely catching a husband.
The tone of her letters had gradually changed from bitter complaints about her new situation and vituperative recriminations against Darcy and Bingley and her teachers to interest and even pride in her accomplishments in her new skills.
Her intelligence was not lacking, as her father had always held, and she had at last learned to hold a household, and order dinners, and care for tenants, and all the skills needed by a gentlewoman.
It was wonderful to hear that despite the wildness of Lydia’s youth, she had at last settled down with a gentleman who loved her enough not to indulge her.
No one, Jane thought, could have predicted the current outcome.
Hoydenish, penniless Lydia, well-married and secure, and beautiful, well-dowered, ambitious Caroline reduced to penury in her widowhood.
It was a sad testament to the dangers inherent in unfettered ambition.
Baron Montrose had offered Caroline a title in exchange for her considerable dowry, and she, ever eager to climb higher in society, had leapt at the proposal.
Charles had been wary, but as ever, had been inclined to give his sister what she wanted.
He had attempted to insist on a respectable jointure, but the baron, with an eye to his own finances and excesses, had threatened to delay the marriage indefinitely.
Caroline, horrified, had straight away ordered her brother to arrange the settlements precisely at Montrose desired, and Bingley reluctantly had given in.
Caroline had lived to regret this decision when her new husband lost interest in her immediately after the wedding in favor of brandy and cards and other rumored impropriety and blew through the entirety of her money.