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“And then you shall be cleverer than your old Papa, and he shall read while you take care of Pemberley,” came a deep voice from the doorway.
“Papa!” Janey cried, running to him with her arms outstretched. He swung her high in the air, as she loved, his laughter and her squeals of delight filling Pemberley with joy, before finally bestowing the kisses she demanded.
He was the handsomest man of my acquaintance, still. Moments like these, watching his real and obvious affection for the child we had created together, my heart swelled with love for them both. We did not, either of us, take our happiness for granted.
“I believe Susannah is searching for you, young lady,” he said, with mock severity. “How would it be if you allow her to help you dress and do your hair? The day is wasting.”
“Bennet is leaving today,” she said mournfully, in case this would delay morning ablutions. “Mama is sad, and I am helping her be happy.”
“As I understand, Clara is in great need of assistance with packing for our journey. I will shoulder the burden of cheering Mama.” Slyly, he winked at me.
I smiled at them both. “And I thank you for your kind help, sweetling. But let Papa take you to Susannah now, so that you do not disappoint Clara.”
“Very well,” she sighed, laying her head upon her father’s shoulder.
He bent to kiss me before turning to leave, but Janey called out to me, and he paused in the doorway.
“Mama, you should write down your story of fools and heroes, so you do not forget it before I am old enough to hear. What is it called?”
“Oh, it does not have a name,” I replied. “But I will not forget.”
The End
