Laughing, I waved him toward the drawing room. “More than can be summarized briefly.”
The moment we entered the drawing room, George yelped in surprise and bounded over to pump Richard’s uninjured hand. “Bully, Cousin! You are arrived just in time for all the fun!”
Richard laughed and disentangled himself from George so he could kiss his mother on the cheek and greet his father. Hasty reunions followed with my stunned aunt and uncle before Richard recollected himself.
Turning back to the rest of the room, he removed his hat apologetically. “Forgive my lapse, ladies. I have not been introduced to everyone. I fear my manners…” His words died as he froze, arrested by one figure slowly rising to her feet. “Impossible!” he rasped, his jaw hanging open. “Can it be little Lizzy Smith?”
I moved swiftly to offer Elizabeth my arm. Facing my astonished cousin squarely, I announced, “I believe you are confused, Richard. May I present Miss Elizabeth Bennet of Longbourn in Hertfordshire, and my bride-to-be. Miss Bennet, this is my cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam.”
Richard stared hard, emotions visibly warring across his battered features. At long last, he loosed a crack of laughter and surged forward to press Elizabeth’s hand warmly. “Well, bless me for a muddle-head! Forgive an old campaigner his exhausted eyes playing tricks from too long staring at foreign landscapes. Nothing but joy to you both!”
Elizabeth rested a hand on Richard’s chest and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I have missed you, too, Richard.”
Epilogue
Elizabeth
Pemberley, 1814
Iadjustedtheheavypicnic basket on my arm, one hand instinctively supporting my cumbersome belly as I surveyed the happy chaos unfolding on Pemberley’s back lawns. Our third annual summer picnic had drawn a merry party to enjoy idyllic weather and congenial company. I smiled to myself, drinking in joyful sights and sounds all around.
“Come now, Lizzy, you must rest yourself!” Aunt Gardiner hastened over, whisking away the overladen hamper. “No lifting anything heavy for my girl now in your condition.”
I chuckled, patting my rounded stomach ruefully. “If only it were as simple to divest myself of other burdens of preparation!” My eyes tracked to where Mama held court amidst our noble guests, voice carrying effusively on the balmy air. “I may have escaped the most strenuous tasks, but preventing embarrassment remains a Herculean labor when Mama is determined on display!”
Aunt Gardiner followed my grimace toward where Mama was loudly expounding on my elevated connections to Lady Belmont. That poor woman! “Ah well, what is one more inflated tale added to her repertoire? Although perhaps the gentlemen may benefit from a bit of distraction.” She nodded meaningfully to where Mr. Darcy stood, politely trapped, manfully enduring a recitation of various Bennet family ailments.
With a smothered laugh, I squeezed Aunt’s capable hand and moved briskly to intervene. “If you will play hostess, I will attempt a rescue mission.” I wound my way between various clusters of family and friends toward poor Mr. Darcy’s pained smile. But suddenly, Jane and Mr. Bingley were at my side, providing timely salvation.
“Lizzy! I was just telling Mr. Darcy he must come see what the little ones are up to,” Jane gestured fondly to where her toddling son frolicked on a blanket, golden curls glinting in the sunlight. Ellie, who was George and Lady Lucilla's little daughter, was tugging on his toes and making him giggle. Beside them was my own firstborn, Bennet, sitting up and gravely regarding his cousins. What a delight it had given us to introduce them all, now that they were old enough to notice one another!
“Yes, Fitzwilliam will not want to miss this. How typically solemn Bennet is! Perhaps Edward or Ellie will teach him to laugh.”
“He will learn that from his mother, I've no doubt.” Giving me a speaking look, she added gently, “Just as his father did. I am looking forward to hearing him when he sees them playing, so we must call him over. Oh, but here comes Mama! Perhaps first, Mr. Darcy simply must come with me to admire how you have arranged the refreshments so beautifully.” Smoothly, she stepped away and guided a grateful Fitzwilliam out of Mama’s orbit toward safer pastures.
I bestowed a loving smile after her. Dearest Jane! Of all life’s joys these past years, watching her blossom into bliss as Mrs. Bingley outshone almost every other blessing. I gazed contentedly around our idyllic gathering, warmed by the growing connections between loved ones present. Even Mama’s effusions sparked more amusement than embarrassment when offset by the delight of seeing those I cherished most surrounded by happiness.
My tender musings were interrupted by a firm touch at my elbow. I turned to behold Fitzwilliam’s smiling features beside me, his deep brown eyes alight with irrepressible joy. He had never lookedthathappy when we were children. I think I will claim the credit for it. Wordlessly, he drew me close, one large hand cradling the infant in my belly as his lips grazed my forehead. Secure in that tender clasp, I sighed contentedly. Moments like this never lost their blissful magic!
All too soon, duty reasserted its claim as various friends moved expectantly to speak to one another about this or that. Our little reunion in the summer was always too brief. I wandered slowly amidst colorful groups dotting the lawn like gay flower clusters. The sight of Miss Westing and little James and Anne Rose about stirred wistful yearnings for our own second child, soon to join in such play. Beaming benevolently over all stood Lord and Lady Belmont, conversing amicably with Uncle Gardiner and Aunt Madeline. Now, who would have ever conceivedthatas possible?
I made my way toward them when Uncle beckoned me eagerly over. “Lizzy, my dear! I was just telling Lord Belmont how the new mill construction progresses apace. He fears Darcy is overly ambitious with expanded worker housing, but I predict it shall prove just the innovative model ahead of its time.”
Lord Belmont harrumphed good-naturedly. “You may crow if proven right, Gardiner. I call it a financial sinkhole, but young idealists will have their follies.” His sharp eyes belied gruff words as they rested approvingly on my husband, deep in discussion with Lord Matlock as he crossed the lawn toward us.
“And how fares my future god-daughter today? And her mother?” Uncle smiled fondly, glancing at my swelling belly. I assured him of steady, vigorous health, then turned as Fitzwilliam and Lord Matlock strode up.
“I say, Darcy,” Matlock was asking, “what new precautions are underway to prevent another conflagration at this elaborate new mill?” He gestured to the serenely flowing river wending through the prospering valley below. “Not merely relying on that stream should catastrophe strike, I hope? Those Luddites are not like to let you save the next one.”
Fitzwilliam touched my elbow lightly. “It was not Luddites who torched the last one, Uncle. A simple accident with a lantern is all. The investigation was quite conclusive. And to answer your question, I have implemented numerous measures safeguarding against fire since the tragedy that claimed the last one. We now better understand how to balance productive innovation and judicious oversight.” His glance met Lord Belmont’s approvingly. “And I continue working with Parliament on wider labor regulations promoting both compassion and commerce.”
I leaned contentedly into his sturdy frame, soul overflowing with gratitude at the man Providence gifted to share loving guardianship. And not merely over Pemberley’s fair prospects, but a new generation poised to inherit a legacy of compassionate and just stewardship. Sweet anticipation swelled my maternal heart, contemplating little lives that were soon to unfold.
Isankgratefullyontothe bed’s soft expanse, weary to my bones after our estate had spilled over with guests. My hands cradled the heavy mound of our unborn child as I slowly swung my legs up and reclined against the pillows with a soft moan. Moments later, strong hands gently cupped my belly’s weight from behind, lifting the burden off my ribs in tender support.
“Allow me, my love.” Fitzwilliam’s whisper mingled relief and desire as he tucked me securely against him, my frame bolstered by sturdy strength.
I sighed blissfully, cradled in cherished arms. “Mmm, you take such good care of me.”
