Page 137 of The Crown’s Gift

At Pemberley, Anne and Eleanor grew among music, books, estate rides, and letters from every Bennet relation. A son, George Thomas Darcy, was born four years after Anne—not as replacement or rescue, but as another beloved child.

Darcy did not become easy in every company, nor Elizabeth right in every argument. He still withdrew when worried; she still defended a quick judgment too long. Marriage gave them practice in returning to the conversation.

On their tenth anniversary, they returned to Oakham Mount alone.

"My feelings and wishes are unchanged," Darcy said beneath the oak where he had proposed.

Elizabeth looked at the silver beginning at his temples. "You are not."

"Neither are you."

"Then we have kept one promise."

He took her hand. "Do you regret the changes?"

"Some. I regret every child outgrowing sleep. I regret Pemberley's north roof in winter. I regret allowing your aunt to choose the blue drawing-room curtains."

"She was right about the color."

"Do not ruin the moment."

Darcy smiled and kissed her.

Below them, Netherfield and Longbourn remained visible. Hazelwood lay beyond the western trees. The map had changed, but the family crossed it continually.

When they returned to the house, Sir Thomas sat beneath the new oak with three grandchildren around him and a book closed upon his knee.

He was listening.

* * *

The idea for a school began with a leaking cottage and Lydia's account books.

During one of her visits from Portsmouth, Lydia accompanied Sir Thomas on an estate ride and discovered that three tenant girls walked nearly four miles to the parish school in winter. The boys attended more reliably because farm carts carried them part of the distance. The girls remained home when roads were bad.

"Build a school near the southern farms," Lydia said.

"Buildings require teachers, fuel, books, and continued income."

"You say that whenever an idea is good but expensive."

"I say it whenever an idea is expensive."

Lydia returned the next morning with figures. They were imperfect, blotted, and surprisingly complete. She proposed using proceeds from the annual militia charity concert, a contribution from Netherfield, and subscriptions from neighboring landowners. Mary offered royalties from one composition. Kitty designed a schoolhouse with high windows and a small room for drawing and music. Jane promised books from the Hazelwood school. Elizabeth and Darcy offered a yearly sum large enough to secure a teacher.

Sir Thomas reviewed the plan.

"You have all conspired."

"We cooperated," Lydia said. "Conspiracy sounds more interesting."

The Royal Oak School opened eighteen months later near the young tree planted for the King's anniversary. It admitted the daughters and sons of tenants without fee. Reading, writing, arithmetic, household accounts, and practical agriculture formed the common lessons. Music and drawing were taught twice each month when Mary or Kitty could attend, and by local instructors otherwise.

Sir Thomas refused to name it for himself.

"You saved the King," Lady Bennet argued. "People will expect the Bennet School."

"Then they may practice disappointment."