Page 130 of The Crown’s Gift

"Perspective restored," Darcy said.

The family spent Christmas at Pemberley, then planned the following one at Netherfield. Elizabeth insisted upon alternating.

"Pemberley is larger," Lady Bennet objected.

"Which is why Netherfield will feel warmer."

"Netherfield is perfectly warm. Your father replaced every grate."

"Then there can be no objection."

Anne was christened in Pemberley's chapel. Georgiana became godmother, Colonel Fitzwilliam godfather, and Sir Thomas held the baby afterward beneath a painted window while Emma slept against Bingley's shoulder.

Darcy watched the two grandfathers: Sir Thomas speaking nonsense to Anne, Bingley solemnly promising Emma she might pull the earl's ribbon if she wished. Pemberley's future no longer felt like a line of male names in an estate book. It was people, noisy and unmanageable, entering rooms he had once kept perfect.

Elizabeth joined him.

"You look alarmed."

"I was thinking Pemberley may never recover."

"From Christmas?"

"From belonging to more than one person."

She leaned against his arm. "Is that regret?"

"No. Relief."

After the other guests retired on Christmas night, the Bennet sisters gathered in Elizabeth's sitting room. Jane held Emma. Anne slept in a cradle near the fire. Mary spoke of a June wedding. Kitty showed a letter from the Derbyshire artist who offered to display two of her landscapes. Lydia announced she wished to be presented in the spring.

"Because you are ready?" Elizabeth asked.

"Because I no longer wish to be noticed by everyone. Only by people worth knowing. That seems safer."

Jane smiled. "And are there no officers worth knowing?"

"Colonel Fitzwilliam is handsome, but too old and far too observant."

"He is thirty-one," Elizabeth said.

"Ancient."

They laughed until Anne stirred.

Mary lifted the baby with growing confidence. "Do you remember the nursery floor before Lizzy's wedding?"

"I remember being denied an immediate visit to Pemberley," Lydia said.

"And now you are here," Kitty replied.

"Eventually."

Elizabeth looked around the circle. Jane shifted Emma into Mary's waiting arms; Kitty moved the cradle away from Lydia's trailing hem; Lydia tucked the blanket around Anne without being asked. The sisters had not become alike. They had learned to make room for one another.

Downstairs, Sir Thomas stood before Darcy's library fire holding the King's six-word message copied in his daughter's hand.

A life well used is thanks enough.