Epilogue
The wedding of Fitzwilliam Darcy to an unknown country miss was the talk of London that summer.
That the Earl and Countess of Matlock approved was remarked upon, but even more surprising was when Lady Catherine de Bourgh threw her own approval behind the match, despite her own ambitions regarding her daughter and that same gentleman.
The gossips speculated that the family wished to distract from the hasty and ill-advised elopement of Miss Darcy by sanctioning the union of that lady’s brother, imprudent though it might be.
They were not far from the mark, of course.
Upon learning of her niece’s horrid behavior, Lady Catherine had penned Georgiana Jones a scathing letter scolding her soundly and declaring that she would never be welcome at Rosings Park again.
Her daughter, Anne, convinced Lady Catherine to throw her support behind Darcy and Miss Bennet to lessen the scandal attached to their name.
Lady Catherine had only agreed when Anne pointed out that a further breach might destroy her own chances of marrying well now that her cousin was out of her reach.
Thus, on June nineteenth, all of Darcy’s family excepting his sister joined him in Longbourn church as he was united in holy matrimony to Miss Elizabeth Bennet.
Mr. and Mrs. Bingley had graciously agreed to open Netherfield Park for the event, and Mrs. Bennet was in raptures as she decorated the place for her second daughter’s nuptials.
The earl and countess quite adored Elizabeth, and Darcy’s aunt agreed to sponsor her new niece for the next season in town.
Even Darcy’s pompous cousin the viscount seemed to take a shine to his new relation and he made no qualms about informing Darcy that the new Mrs. Darcy was far too good for her husband.
Mary departed with Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner the day after the wedding, traveling with them as far north as Lambton. Their journey was shortened by necessity, as the Gardiners had wished to be in Hertfordshire for their niece’s wedding.
On the trip, Mary happened to meet a gentleman who owned an estate near the Peaks.
He often sought her company during the time she spent in his village.
When Mary and the Gardiners departed for home, he followed her, taking up residence in his London house so that he might be in closer proximity to the Gardiner’s home.
Mrs. Bennet was pleased to send Mary off to London when she heard about the courtship, and not many months later, Mary wed Mr. Harold Spencer.
They settled on his estate, and Mary filled his nursery with two sons and four daughters.
Kitty eventually calmed and began mimicking her sister Lydia’s behavior once again.
In the end, she began to behave well because she wished to, not simply because that was what her sister did.
Her improved behavior resulted in Mr. and Mrs. Bingley inviting her to stay with them in London for the season just a year after they had wed.
While there, Kitty met one of her uncle’s business associates and was quite pleased with his attentions.
Mr. Willard did not need a large dowry and was happy to have a wife of gentle breeding to grace his arm and manage his household.
They married in May only three months after their meeting.
Kitty gave her husband three children over the course of the next several years.
Lydia continued progressing and learning, and when she turned eighteen, her brother and sister Darcy invited her to London for a season.
She was dazzled by it all and even had a gentleman or two pay court to her.
None touched her heart, however, and she returned to Meryton unengaged, much to Mrs. Bennet’s dismay.
Mr. Wickham became a partner in Mr. Phillips’s law firm, and his old employer planned to leave his favorite former clerk the practice when it came time. With his livelihood secure and his bank account padded, George discovered that all he lacked to be completely happy was to have a wife.
Miss Lydia Bennet was as comely as ever, with only minor changes to her face and stature that come with aging. George had become her friend over the last two years, and when he considered her now, there were stirrings of something more in his heart.
He began courting her quietly, not wishing to importune her if she no longer held a tendre for him. Lydia responded with ladylike enthusiasm, and though George made his intentions known to Mr. Bennet, Mrs. Bennet was in the dark until their engagement was announced.
George Wickham and Lydia Bennet married on a crisp autumn morning, the anniversary of the very day they met.
Lydia and George stayed in Meryton, much to the delight of Mrs. Bennet, who was pleased that at least some of her grandchildren were close enough to spoil.
The Bingleys had moved to the north only two years after their nuptials, choosing to reside closer to the Darcys and farther away from Mrs. Bennet.
When Mr. Bennet passed away in his sleep, the widow moved into the moderately sized house her husband had purchased years before, thus making way for Mr. and Mrs. Collins and their three sons to take possession of Longbourn.
Mr. and Mrs. Bingley’s purchased estate was established a mere thirty miles from Pemberley, where they raised their five children. They visited the Darcys regularly, who also had five children: two boys and three girls.
Georgiana Jones, nee Darcy retired to Ramsgate with her husband Tobias Jones.
Mr. Jones had hoped to use Georgiana’s dowry to acquire an estate, which would have enabled him to quit his occupation as a lawyer in favor of being a landlord.
Unable to realize his dream, he went back to work as a clerk, working long hours to provide support for his wife and his two sisters.
With only small dowries, the Jones sisters did not have many marital prospects and stayed with their brother into their twenties. At long last, each sister married a tradesman and moved away, leaving Georgiana alone in the house with her constantly irate husband.
Mrs. Jones was not quick to fall with child and it was not until she had been married some six years that she was so blessed. Her husband was thrilled at the prospect of a child. That is, until she gave birth to a girl.
Just nine months later, she had another daughter. Then another. And finally, just before her twenty-fifth birthday, a fourth girl was born. Her last confinement nearly killed her, and the doctor declared Mrs. Jones unable to have any more children.
She was still abed after her confinement on her twenty-fifth birthday, alone in the house save a maid and a cook. Margie, the young maid of all work, brought her a letter from a solicitor in London. It was addressed to her husband, but she opened it anyway.
Inside was the deposit slip for the quarter’s interest on her dowry. It was three hundred pounds! Why, her husband made barely seven hundred a year.
Knowing full well that the money, by law, belonged to her husband, Georgiana silently fumed.
Her error in judgment all those years ago had proved to hold lifelong consequences.
Holding that slip in her hand reignited all her old anger at her brother, her husband, and the world.
She was still staring in silent anger at the piece of paper when her husband arrived home for lunch.
He spoke not a word to her; he did not speak to her hardly at all, unless to scold her. He simply took the missive and departed.
Georgiana did not see any of the money from her dowry while her husband still lived.
Things improved some, however. Tobias found them a bigger house to accommodate them, and he even brought his sister, Mrs. Younge, into the household to be governess to her nieces.
Georgiana did not resent the lady’s presence, for it relieved much of the burden of raising four girls.
Many years later, when her husband died and her girls were grown and married, Georgiana finally gained her life back.
She was a widow of some forty-five years and eager to have done with the hard life she had so unfairly been dealt.
With control of her dowry, she took herself off to London, excited to reestablish herself with the new Earl and Countess of Matlock, as well as all the relations she had not even written to in decades.
Why, she would even graciously condescend to visit her brother, though he had ruined her life.
It should not have come to a shock to her that none of her relations would see her, but it did.
She sent letter after letter, though they were all returned unopened.
And when she happened upon her brother and his wife in Hyde Park, they had the temerity to pretend they did not know her! Georgiana was livid.
Her dowry allowed her to live modestly in a respectable part of town, and soon enough Georgiana made friends and expanded her social circle.
Though she never did manage to move in the exalted circles her Matlock relatives commanded, she was content to preside over the middling society she now inhabited.
She never did experience the happiness in a spouse her brother had, and when she passed away at only fifty-seven, the principle of her dowry was divided amongst her girls.
As for Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, there was no other couple, they were certain, that experienced such felicity, such accord, and such perfect joy in the wedded state.
Elizabeth took the ton by storm, despite the naysayers and gossips who could not comprehend how a man of Mr. Darcy’s stature had condescended to marry a penniless country nobody.
Once the people of that mindset witnessed the evident felicity the Darcys shared, they were forced to admit the wisdom of marrying for love.
Mr. and Mrs. Darcy were pleased to ignore the bad - and enjoy the good - of London and its society. And once little Darcys began arriving, the happy couple were content to spend most of their year in the country, attending only two months a year of the season.
Their arguments were fierce, their reconciliation sweet, and their love never wavered as long as they lived.