Epilogue
London
The Darcys travelled to town to prepare for Georgiana’s first Season.
Elizabeth instantly fell in love with Darcy House, and she and her new sister worked with the housekeeper to discuss the updates to the furniture and draperies they wished to make.
Both found it quite enjoyable, and if Elizabeth never had to leave her warm and charming house, she would be grateful.
Their first social event in town was a ball in the Darcys’ honour at Matlock House.
The new Mrs. Darcy was closely scrutinized by the doyennes of society who were disappointed because as hard as they analysed her every move, they could find no fault.
On the contrary, those who were lucky enough to get close to her found her to be witty and charming.
Elizabeth wore her face cream every day lest anyone call on her and have reason to ridicule her or Fitzwilliam for his choice of wife.
Even though she was initially nervous, she had learned that there was no use in fretting—Fitzwilliam had taught her that her attraction was borne of love and that beauty was inside and out.
* * *
On the night of Georgiana’s debut ball, Elizabeth was determined to make Darcy House more beautiful than it had ever been.
The dream she had long ago came vividly to her mind, so she made certain that fragrant bouquets scented the air and the ballroom glowed from the light of fresh beeswax candles in the sparkling crystal chandeliers.
* * *
After their responsibilities at the receiving line were completed, Darcy limped in with his wife and sister on his arms. He guided Georgiana to the dance floor and kissed her hand before Richard joined her for the first dance.
Lord Matlock danced with Elizabeth, and Darcy was full of love and pride.
Mrs. Darcy was the obvious object of his attention—he followed her with his eyes all night, and each time she returned to his side, he smiled and placed a lingering kiss on her hand.
That night, the rumours of his love for his wife were proven true—much to the chagrin of the “jilted” belles of the ton and their thwarted matchmaking mamas.
All Darcy could think about was the dream he once had about being with his Elizabeth at a ball.
Now she stood beside him and looked too tempting in her new gown with the Darcy jewels glittering around her neck.
If only he could hold her and kiss her as passionately as he would have liked, but he was forced to control his urges.
He was delighted for his sister but would much rather be upstairs with his lovely Elizabeth in his arms. Darcy never doubted his decision to listen to his heart when he chose the perfect woman for himself.
He smiled—tonight, it would be more than a dream! And it was.
* * *
Elizabeth sat on the floor of the drawing room and played with her daughter when the butler presented his mistress with a calling card. “Harris, do we know a Mrs. Roberts?”
“Caroline Bingley, as was, madam.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line as her brows dropped. That name was a reminder of an ill-favoured person. “Bingley? Yes, I remember that name—the gentleman who was my sister’s former suitor. Please ask Mrs. Pepper to take Anna back to the nursery before showing the caller in.”
When she was alone, she straightened her skirts and nodded to Harris to open the door to her visitor.
“Mrs. Darcy, how lovely to find you at home. I am Caroline Bingley Roberts—surely your dear husband has spoken often about our very, very close friendship.” A tall, overdressed woman stood before her with several lofty orange feathers sticking out of her hair.
Her “assets” were prominently displayed and her neck, wrists, and fingers were layered with expensive-looking jewels.
“Your brother visited us two years ago in Derbyshire and briefly spoke of a sister. My husband has not made me aware that you were his friend.”
“Darcy House has always been one of my favourite homes, next to Pemberley, of course, and my opinion never changed after my many visits.”
“Georgiana and I have made a few changes, but my husband’s mother had excellent taste, and I saw no reason to tamper with perfection.”
“You are obviously not of the ton. Allow me to give you a word of advice—home decoration must change with the latest trends.”
During the first dinner she and her husband had shared with Mr. Bingley, he had not spoken well of his sister other than to say that prior to the fire, she was determined to be Mrs. Darcy even if it meant forcing Fitzwilliam into an inappropriate situation.
“Perhaps people who come from trade are more conscious of trying to please others by following these passing trends. My father’s estate was in Hertfordshire and my mother had excellent taste. ”
Before Mrs. Roberts could respond to Elizabeth’s set down, Fitzwilliam put his head into the drawing room but did not see their visitor.
“My love, where is Anna? Am I late for our afternoon playtime?” She indicated with her head that someone else was in the room, and his chin went back upon seeing the former Miss Bingley. He hastened towards Elizabeth’s side.
Before he reached her or could speak to her, Caroline stood and latched onto his arm.
“My dearest Mr. Darcy, it is so delightful to be back at Darcy House. What a pleasure to meet your new wife. Who, may I ask, is Anna? Surely not Miss De Bourgh.” Perhaps she thought her question was humorous?
Elizabeth was not impressed, and had to restrain herself not to huff.
In all likelihood, Mr. Roberts had never called his wife “my love.” In the end, Fitzwilliam had made a love match and all Caroline had was a wealthy husband like the rest of the ladies of the ton.
Now she seemed determined to cosy up with Fitzwilliam, who she probably would have scorned due to his scars and limp.
Fitzwilliam scowled at the woman and held his arm away from his body. “Mrs. Roberts, remove yourself from my person this instant. If you must know, Anna is our daughter.”
Caroline’s lips went into a pout as she acquiesced, but she peered from Fitzwilliam to Elizabeth in a way as if to be plotting something more.
The butler knocked and opened the door. “Lady Matlock to see you, Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Darcy.”
“Pray send her in.”
Lady Matlock swept in and kissed her niece and nephew before she asked, “Where is my sweet baby? Is this not our regular play time?”
“She is in the nursery. We had an unexpected caller.” Their aunt turned to see who was intruding on their special family time. “My lady, this is Mrs. Roberts. Perhaps you remember her as Caroline Bingley.”
Caroline curtseyed so deeply, Elizabeth feared she might lose her balance. “My lady, I am so honoured to be in your august presence once again. I have not had the pleasure of your company since the Duke of Twinings’ ball.”
“Once again? You are mistaken—I have never seen you before, but allow me to give you some advice. No one likes a social climbing parvenu who drops names without a reason. Your behaviour is just as inappropriate today as I have heard it was before your marriage. You must think me a fool to believe I would ever fall for your ingratiating schemes. Madam, your visit has come to an end.” The lady’s tone indicated she would brook no objection.
Caroline’s face was crimson as she curtseyed to Lady Matlock and quit the room without acknowledging the Darcys.
Their aunt returned a softened gaze to the Darcys.
“That woman will never learn. Now, I should like to see my beautiful little niece.”
* * *
“Harris, where is Mrs. Darcy?” Darcy asked when he entered his home.
“I believe she is upstairs packing, sir.” It was several days before the family’s removal to Pemberley and the house was at sixes and sevens preparing for the journey.
When he entered Elizabeth’s chambers, he found her and her maid placing gowns in a trunk. She looked up at his expressionless face and said, “Perkins, we can finish this later.”
“Yes, madam. Sir.” The maid bobbed a curtsey and left the room.
“Fitzwilliam, what is it? You look as if you are about to cry.”
“I hardly know where to start. I had lunch with Lord Matlock at White’s today and as I was leaving, I stopped to greet an old friend from Cambridge.” He paused, gathering his thoughts.
“Yes, and. . .”
“He clapped me on the back and said, ‘you have had a very narrow escape, my friend.’ I had no idea to what he was referring, and he asked me if I truly did not know.”
“Did not know what? My dear, you are frightening me.” Elizabeth’s hands were clutched together.
“Lady Beatrice has the French disease.”
“Oh, heaven help her!”
“I told you she was with child when she came to the cottage to end our marriage agreement.” She nodded.
“Beatrice had more than one paramour and her most frequent partner, Lord Bertram, is also sick. She has infected her husband, Lord Palmerston, as well. When I asked about her baby, my friend told me the baby was stillborn.” Elizabeth shook her head and tears began to run down her cheeks.
He took her in his arms and held her tight and they were silent for several moments.
“Her father, Lord Markham, is caring for her, but it seems she does not have much time left.” He looked into her eyes.
“Lizzy, it could have been me! Every day, I am more convinced that the fire that nearly took my life, in reality saved my life.”
“What do you mean, my love?”
“If Beatrice had not been disgusted by my face, I might have been forced to marry her and then who knows what would have happened.” He kissed his wife’s hair.
“If there had been no fire, I would never have met you—my brilliant, beautiful wife who I love with my whole heart. I was living a life of despair until your love showed me the splendour of everything around me.”