“If we quarrel so much in one year,” Elizabeth teased him one evening, “What must twenty look like?”
Darcy smiled. “If they resemble this one, I shall consider myself the happiest of men.”
Before that first year had passed, they had not only learned how to disagree without injuring the other, but had also welcomed their first child, a son who bore a striking resemblance to his father.
Regardless, as he grew, his disposition revealed much of his mother’s spirit; both parents delighted in him, and in the children who followed. They taught them all to govern their tempers, to judge with fairness, and to treat every person they encountered with respect, regardless of station.
In this manner, Pemberley became a very happy home, if not so sedate as it had been before Elizabeth made it her own. Elizabeth and Darcy, having been afforded every opportunity to learn the cost of pride and prejudice, chose to live otherwise than their respective upbringings might have inclined them to do. Their children, and indeed all those within their influence, benefited from the generosity of that choice.
To anyone who enquired, they attributed this change to the irresistible power of love that had drawn them together. Privately, however, they knew it owed just as much to the understanding gained during theintervening timeas to what they spoke of between themselves, particularly whenever they discussed books or the library at Rosings—a room Elizabeth had never visited. Of this, they never spoke to another. If, on occasion, they laughed together over some incident, some littleprivate joke, their children, relations, and servants would only shrug their shoulders, exchange a knowing glance, and continue about their day. After all, it was none of their business.
Epilogue
by Jeff Bigler
Pemberley, Derbyshire
Saturday, the 9thof June, 1832
It is a truth universally acknowledged that couples who bring out the best in each other are very likely to enjoy a happy marriage. This was undoubtedly true for Darcy and Elizabeth. She awoke peacefully in his arms, where nothing could be more certain than the love between them that had grown beyond anything she could ever have imagined.
When their eighteen-year-old daughter Emily came down to breakfast at nearly ten o’clock, she found Darcy and Elizabeth perusing the papers over buttered toast and coffee. Their other children had already withdrawn to their respective occupations: Edward and James were out riding, and Sarah sat in the music room, diligently improving her skill upon the pianoforte. Of their daughters, Emily was most like her mother, with auburn curls and a twinkle in her eyes that accompanied her clever wit.
“You are up later than usual,” observed Elizabeth.
“I slept ill last night. I was thinking of what Lord Buttermore said to me at the assembly.”
Darcy turned towards Emily, causing the silver strands of his hair to glisten in the rays of sunlight that streamed through the window. “Lord Buttermore? Do you mean the Viscount Buttermore, the earl’s son? I know that he can be clumsy, but do not hold that against him. I made many graceless statements to your mother before and during our courtship.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth chimed in with an expression that evoked the similarities between mother and daughter. “And many more since. But I have learnt that though his words may be awkward,his love for me is anything but.” She added with a smile. “I forgive him every time.”
“I am forever grateful that she does not hold them against me,” Darcy added.
“What did Lord Buttermore say to you?” asked Elizabeth.
“That I was not clever enough to hold his attention.”
“He never!”
“Well…he was speaking with his cousin. I promise that I was not eavesdropping—I was standing nearby and could not help overhearing. He also spent most of the evening at the side of the room, staring at me as if to find fault.”
Elizabeth gave Darcy an arch look. He returned it with a sheepish smile, part happy recollection, part apology.
She faced her daughter and said, “I suspect that he is fond of you.”
Emily stared incredulously. “What makes you say that? If that were so, should he not say things that would flatter me?”
Darcy chimed in. “He should. But much as I did at the same age, he needs to learn how. Furthermore, I suspect he does not yet know he admires you. He will realise it in time.”
“Well,Icertainly do not admirehim!” Emily huffed.
“For someone you do not esteem, you are certainly paying him a lot of mind,” noted Elizabeth. “Perhaps you are attempting to convince yourself that you do not like him?”
“You will never understand! I am sure your own courtship was perfect, and you never had to endure such a comment!”
Elizabeth laughed. “Our courtship was many things, and I am grateful for each of them because they brought me together with the best man of my acquaintance, but it was far from perfect.”
“Indeed,” said Darcy, “the actions by Lord Buttermore that you are decrying this morning are very much like mistakes that I made when your mother and I first met. If she had been any lessstubborn, she would have given up on me long before she was ready to accept my proposal.”
