As conversation resumed around the table, Darcy murmured in Elizabeth’s ear,
“Bad news for some of us and good news for others.”
“He left without saying goodbye,” Kitty said, shocked and saddened. She looked towards the duchess, the only person likely to provide an explanation. Seated beside her, the duchess had anticipated such a reaction, and a brief conversation followed between them. No one heard what passed between them, and the secret remained their own. Not even Lydiasucceeded in discovering what the two ladies discussed, a curious occurrence that persisted from that day onward, as Kitty gradually came to realise she had a life of her own and no longer depended entirely on her sister.
Thomas Bennet took great pleasure in having his family gathered around him. Back in Africa, he had possessed only a vague notion of what he hoped to achieve upon his return to England. Looking at them now and listening to their cheerful voices, he finally understood that he had discovered the precious gift of love at the end of his journey. There was the unique love of the woman he had carried in his soul for fifty years, and there were the feelings bestowed upon him by every member of his family since his return. Each was different, yet all were equally sincere and equally profound.
Edward was smiling, once more appearing mildly bored by his family’s exuberance, yet beneath his calm countenance there was not a single anxiety to be found. The future of his family was secure. Mrs Bennet shone in a role she had long desired, that of a delighted mother-in-law to the husbands of her two eldest daughters. Then there were his nieces, whom he had come to regard almost as daughters of his own. Each was special, and with each he shared a different bond. Finally, though certainly not least, there were Darcy and Bingley, the two gentlemen who completed their family. They represented the assurance that once the older generation was gone, those they loved would remain in safe hands.
“My dears,” he said.
The conversations ceased at once.
“I have a happy announcement to make. I have been in correspondence with my niece, Eleanor, your father’s cousin, and, together with her daughter, Augusta, she will soon travel from Newcastle to London. I hope they will arrive in time for Elizabeth and Darcy’s wedding.”
Suddenly, nothing seemed more important than the approaching marriage. Mrs Bennet readily agreed that the duchess should direct the preparations, as she fully intended to inform everyone in Meryton that Elizabeth had married into the ton and that a duchess herself had hosted the celebrations.
Epilogue
The Darcys never planned their days. At Pemberley, they rose early each morning. Throughout spring, summer, and autumn, Elizabeth generally accompanied her husband around the estate. Such behaviour was unusual in a lady, yet she took a genuine interest in everything that concerned the vast property and the lives of its tenants. They delighted in riding together and in each other’s company, whether beneath bright sunshine or through gentle rain. Whenever they left Pemberley, their carriage was filled with gifts destined for the people Elizabeth visited: a young mother, a retired servant, or anyone whose welfare mattered to her.
One autumn morning, more than a year after their marriage, Elizabeth asked her husband to stop near a river where they enjoyed a small breakfast, having travelled farther than usual.
The morning was glorious. Although September was drawing to a close, the warmth of the sun still lingered, whilst a gentle breeze stirred the trees. Elizabeth was particularly fond of that spot, where the river wound its way towards a watermill visible in the distance.
“What is it, my love?”
Only a few days earlier, Elizabeth had given him the most wonderful news imaginable: they were to become parents. He treasured every day, aware that the time would soon come when they must return to London.
He had become almost constantly anxious, watching her with concerned eyes, whilst Elizabeth regarded the happy event with serenity and joy. More often than not, she succeeded in making him forget his fears and simply enjoy life beside her.
“I have received a letter from Georgiana,” she said, observing him closely.
“You received a letter from Georgiana?” he asked, feigning indignation. “I am completely ignored in this family. She asks you whether she may spend the summer at Netherfield or Luton, and all her requests lately have come through you. Now she writes only to you instead of addressing us both.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth answered simply.
He was grateful to her for transforming his shy little sister into an exceptional young woman and often marvelled at the ease with which his wife connected with everybody around her, whether family or friend.
“And what does my sister want this time?” he asked, wholly unprepared for the answer.
“To marry,” Elizabeth replied, watching him turn first pale and then red.
“What?”
Whether anger or alarm lay behind the outburst, Elizabeth could not tell, though she had feared precisely such a reaction. He still struggled to regard Georgiana as a grown woman.
“She is seventeen!”
“Yes, almost eighteen. She has been presented at court, and everybody in London would agree that it is an excellent age for marriage.”
“I do not care what people in London think!”
“I know. Yet you do care that our Georgiana is in love and that the gentleman in question is someone dear to us.”
“So there is a gentleman!” Darcy exclaimed.
“There usually is when marriage is being discussed,” Elizabeth replied with amusement, though her husband did not appear any easier.
