Chapter 9

One week and a half before the wedding, a letter arrived for Elizabeth, asking her to join the Duchess of Leeds for tea at Maplewood the following afternoon with her sister Kitty. Elizabeth was chagrined to learn Marianne was in England at all, let alone Derbyshire. Kitty and Brandon arrived shortly after the letter, Kitty having received one as well, and wishing to consult Elizabeth about it immediately. Elizabeth and Darcy received them alone in Darcy's study. Brandon was enraged that either of the Leedses had the audacity to contact his wife, and panicked that the strain might cause harm to Kitty or their unborn child. Darcy was less irate, given more often to reserve and masking his feelings, but he echoed Brandon's sentiments, rather less forcefully.

Kitty insisted that she was well, and demanded that her husband cease treating her as an invalid. She had taken the advice of Elizabeth and the midwives, had been eating well, abstaining from wine and spirits, and heartily partaking of wholesome, plain food and exercise every day; she felt well and strong. Elizabeth agreed that her sister certainly appeared vibrant and healthy, and suggested that since Kitty was not displaying fits of nerves or temper, and since Elizabeth felt the same about her own condition, that perhaps the gentlemen could treat them more like capable adults, and less like breakable objects.

There was no indication in either letter that the duke would be present. Elizabeth and even Kitty agreed that his presence would not cause them undue fear or concern. He was a libertine, certainly, but that was Marianne's problem now. It was not he who had Kitty taken away, after all. Elizabeth felt that they must find out what Marianne was planning, and Kitty had no objection to joining the party. Brandon insisted that there was no need for Kitty to go, but she insisted that she would go and both gentlemen were much chagrined.

After much debate and disagreement, it was agreed the men and a party of armed grooms would accompany them to Maplewood, even if it was unsure whether the gentlemen would accompany the ladies inside, and the ladies insisted they had no idea why armed grooms were needed. It was agreed that they would tell no one except Richard and Mary, not wishing to upset Aunt Josephine or her other two daughters before they knew Marianne's intentions.

*****

The appointed hour arrived, and the party presented themselves at Maplewood. A senior manservant, likely a butler or perhaps the duke's personal steward, answered the door. An obviously capable and reliable man, he observed dryly to their party that her grace was not expecting the gentlemen. Darcy inquired whether the duke was in residence, which was answered in the negative. The very proud servant introduced himself as Mr Fleming, his grace's personal steward, in such a proud manner as to make no doubt about the fact that he had been personally charged by the duke with her grace's care and safe conduct on her visit and travels. Elizabeth suggested that their husbands wait upon a bench in the hall, and were escorted by Mr Fleming into the drawing room.

Marianne gave the man a small smile as he announced her guests, with a disapproving remark about their husbands in the hall. "Of course my cousins' husbands would wish to escort them, particularly in their conditions, Fleming. Please see Lord Darcy and Colonel Brandon to the small library across the hall, and provide them with refreshment. Tea and cakes if they like, or if they prefer, his grace's finest brandy." Marianne spoke regally, as if she had been a duchess all her life. Fleming sniffed, then withdrew as a footman entered with the tea cart and then left them. While not intending any disrespect, she could behave as regal as she liked, but this was Marianne, Elizabeth and Kitty neglected their curtsies, and sat together on a settee near their hostess.

Marianne looked only slightly different. Regal bearing and false airs aside, Elizabeth sensed a new air of maturity about the girl, as well as an air of weariness and sorrow. She wore the colours of half-mourning, a fine but simple grey gown, trimmed in black lace. "You are in mourning, cousin. My condolences," Elizabeth opened the conversation.

Marianne flinched, blinking away tears, "Yes, but let us not begin there," she sighed. Elizabeth and Kitty waited patiently while their hostess prepared their tea. Elizabeth was amazed that she had remembered their preferences after all this time. Once they had each accepted a cup and a plate of sandwiches and cakes, Marianne began to speak. "I am sure you understand why I have come, although I might not have imposed myself if I had known you were both close to confinement, for I have no wish to upset either of you at such a time. I have learned Margaret is to be married. I miss my mother and sisters. I wish to see them, and to make a gift to Margaret of treasures I have been setting by for her marriage. But first, I cannot approach anyone in my family without trying to make things right with the two of you."

Their cousin took a deep breath and continued, "Mrs Brandon, I had no cause for my cruelty to you. We were friends when we were girls, and I cannot explain my unaccountable competitive behaviour towards you. I did not like that my John paid attention to you before I met him, and it made me feel compelled to be better than you. I never could have imagined that my behaviour could ever cause you such calamity, and I know there is no way to make amends for the destruction I caused to your life.

"Lady Darcy, I owe you an apology as well. You took us into your home without a qualm, and provided us with safety and comfort when you had no obligation of any kind to do so. You provided for my sisters and I far better than even our own father or brother, and I repaid you with lies and impropriety. I knew I should have contacted you for help in Plymouth, but I knew I did not deserve your help after the trouble I had caused. But though I knew that you would have helped me, I will not lie and say that I did anything other than make my choices for my own selfish desires. I knew what I was doing was nothing short of scandalous, immoral, and wrong. I wanted to be with John, and I admit that I was willing to go to any lengths to have him.

It is important to me that you understand that it was never avarice that drove me to forsake you all, and everything I knew was right. I care nothing for being a duchess. John is the partner of my soul. I had to be with him! When I heard from him, when I knew that he still loved me, still wanted me and our boy, I could not pay heed to all the reasons I knew I should not. I could not face the rest of my life in that house, the prisoner of that man's mother. Being ignored by my husband, reviled by my sisters in law, ignored by the staff. Having the company of my child withheld from me, because according to Mrs Spencer, he would only learn disgrace and disrepute from me. Watching my husband ignore the child he promised to raise as his own, while my son could have been loved and protected in the arms of his very own papa, who wanted him. I could not bear it, and so, though I knew what it would do to my family if my deeds were discovered, I went.

"Mrs Brandon, if I could change my behaviour while in residence at Pemberley, please believe that I would do anything to do so. I would never have done anything that I believed would have put you into that kind of danger. Lady Darcy, I will not insult your intelligence by suggesting that I regret leaving the Spencers. It was indeed my own choice, borne of my own request, to marry that man, but it was a mistake. Do you know that he did not even give me access to my son in his will? He called his solicitors immediately after my babe was born, and left him under the guardianship of his closest friend and his mother, and left me no rights other than a lifetime gift of a miserly tenant cottage over eighty miles away from his estate. If aught had happened to Miles, I would have been sent away, and I would never have seen my child again, unless you chose to help me again."

Marianne trailed off as she looked out the window and fell into contemplation. "I knew. I knew what would happen to the reputation of Margaret, of my family. I knew what would happen to dear Edward's career, if all became known. I knew my mother would be devastated when she learned what I had done; I knew. But I will not lie, I cannot regret those actions. My son is safe with his mama and papa who love him dearly, he is a beloved son of two people who love each other, and I would have betrayed anyone, and any rule of propriety to accomplish it." She turned and met Elizabeth's eye and raised her chin, "I cannot expect you to forgive me, but I hoped at least to explain." Marianne gave a long sigh. "I am of the hope that if you cannot forgive me, that you might at least allow that I might see my mother and sisters. If you agree, I would like to invite them to come tomorrow."

Kitty was the first to reply, "Marianne, I never blamed you for what happened to me. Perhaps you were foolish, but no young lady could expect that Willoughby's father and mine would be so cruel, so devoid of every proper feeling! My father sold me, cousin. I ought to have been in no danger. In my mother's drawing room, I ought to have been safer than any other place in the world , but my father was greedy, and he sold me like I was a particularly valuable horse. I cannot hold you responsible for that. As for the rest, well, we are grown now, cousin. It is true that you were needlessly cruel, and for that I can easily forgive you. We were girls. It is how we move forward now, as women, that matters."

Marianne began to weep as Elizabeth looked at her and said, "I have never had much use for forgiveness, Marianne. I have always regarded it as a tool that wicked people use to manipulate others into allowing themselves to continue being manipulated. Like my husband, I have a resentful temper. It is one of my great shortcomings. I do not know that I am ready to speak words of forgiveness aloud yet. Instead, I believe in moving forward. Like my sister, I cannot blame you for the actions of those men. But I will not lie and say that those two years that I knew not where my sister was were not the worst of my life. I hope you never know the terror and the desperation that my sisters and stepmother and I felt. I can only promise you that I will pray about it. As for the rest, well… All that I can understand, and perhaps for your flight to the continent, I have to admit I cannot blame you. It pains me that you did not know that I am someone whom you could come and tell anything to. I would have helped you, no matter how I felt about my sister. You are a woman grown, Marianne. I think we can all agree that I am unlikely to approve of all of your choices, and that is to be expected. But the thought that you did not know that you can come to me with any problem, even now, it breaks my heart."

Marianne dried her eyes and raised her chin as Elizabeth continued, "As far as your family, it is not for me to declare you may not see each other. You know why you must be discreet and keep your distance from them, for their protection. That is why Edward could not accept the livings from your husband, although fear not, Darcy and his uncle provided him with enough generous livings to make up for it. You can quietly settle something on Margaret, as you planned, if you still wish. But if your sisters and brother are too openly connected to you, and the truth about what you have done becomes known, they, and even their children will all be reviled in society." Marianne tilted her head in a slight nod in acknowledgement as Elizabeth continued, "I see no reason they should not visit you tomorrow afternoon, if you wish. If they agree, I see no reason why you should not quietly attend the ceremony, although perhaps not the wedding breakfast."

"Oh, I could not possibly attend the breakfast, not when I am in mourning for my little girl!" Marianne gasped. Choking back a sob she whispered, "Everyone calls me foolish for mourning such a small babe. She was still just a little thing, so lovely, just like a perfect little angel. John quite agreed. We called her Angelica. She did not thrive, though we did everything we could. But I find myself desperately inconsolable, and the other ladies act as though I am silly. My John says it is not for others to have an opinion on what I ought to do. I am a duchess. I can mourn as I see fit," the girl said weepily and rather defensively.

Kitty leaned forward and grasped her cousin's hands, "Oh cousin, I am so dreadfully sorry… I shall mourn her. Until the wedding, I shall wear half-mourning for our Angelica," Kitty promised her cousin. "And so shall I," Elizabeth vowed. "I cannot express how sorry I am, Marianne. Words are so insufficient in moments such as these. I pray that you find comfort in your husband and your son."

Marianne agreed that indeed she did, and that she knew not how she would go on if not for "Her John." She smiled at Elizabeth, and said, "He felt it was cowardly, but I would not let him come. I knew if anyone meant it about challenging him to a duel, it would be you."

Elizabeth sternly informed her cousin that she had meant it, and that her familial regard for Marianne did not in any way extend to her husband. "You were still a girl when he courted you in secret, and left you with child, cousin. He was a grown man who knew better, and while I can grant you some understanding, I will not do so for him. He was wrong, and I loathe what his actions cost our family. I am sorry, but those are my feelings." Marianne agreed that it was what she had expected, and that at present, she saw no reason to impose her husband upon her family.

Marianne said that she would invite her mother and sisters to Maplewood the following day. "What about Mary and Lydia and the rest of the family? I long to see them as well, do you think they would come, or do you think they are still too angry with me?"

Elizabeth thought about it and replied, "I do not think they are too angry to see you, or perhaps they might not be after Kitty and I have spoken with them. But it has been so long since you saw your mother and sisters. Perhaps you should invite just them tomorrow, so that you can all cry out your feelings and clear the air. Then it might be nice if you invited them, and the rest of the family, including Marianne's betrothed and his family, the next day, or a few days later. Then you may see all of your family, and meet your sister's new relations, without seeing everyone staying at Pemberley. The wedding guests have been arriving daily. Pemberley is certainly full of people just now."

Marianne agreed, and Elizabeth consented to carry a letter to her sisters and mother. Marianne rang for Fleming, and the ladies met their husbands in the hall. Kitty and Elizabeth shared all of the details of the conversation with their husbands on the carriage ride home. The gentlemen grumbled in discontent that the duke was not present for them to thrash, and grudgingly accepted that at the very least, amicable but cautious communication had been opened between their wives and cousin.

When they returned to Pemberley, they asked to see all of the sisters, their husbands, as well as their cousins, aunt, and Mr Ferrars in the private sitting room in the family wing upstairs. Thankfully Jane and Bingley were present. Knowing she would be confined to her home for the winter with her new babe soon enough, Jane had been attracted to the festivities happening at Pemberley like a butterfly to nectar, and to her sisters' company while she could enjoy so much of it. The Bingleys had been in residence for some days. Only Elizabeth's stepmother was absent, for she was still in Sanditon with her husband and new baby son.

*****

When everyone had assembled, and tea had been passed about, Elizabeth made the announcement that Marianne was in residence at Maplewood, and desired to see any of the family that was willing to see her. Everyone immediately began talking over one another, lodging opinions and exclaiming in excitement or outrage. Lydia was particularly vocal in her refusal to see Marianne. Elizabeth held up a hand and said, "Our family has suffered many trials in the last few years. We all have our feelings on the matter, and all of our feelings are well deserved. However, at this time, this matter primarily concerns the Dashwoods, particularly Margaret. It is her wedding that her sister has travelled for. Margaret, Marianne asked to see Kitty and I today, because she felt she could not approach the rest of her family without making things right with us first. We all spoke together, and expressed our regrets and our feelings today, and have made the beginnings of a sort of peace with one another. She has asked me to carry this letter to you, in the hopes that you, your mother, and your sister will consent to visit her tomorrow."

Margaret read the letter, then passed it tearily to her mother and her sister, rather than reading it aloud. Elizabeth and Kitty then related the content of their conversation with Marianne, leaving nothing out, and when they finished, Margaret announced, "I do not know how anyone else feels, but I have sorely missed my sister, and I look forward to seeing her tomorrow." Elinor agreed, while Aunt Dashwood sobbed over the letter, and her poor granddaughter Angelica. She had been quite certain she would never see her middle daughter again.

Elizabeth informed the family that Marianne wished to see her sisters and mother tomorrow. Then, she would extend an invitation for the family to visit, along with the Russells. Margaret gasped, "Do you think she will attend the wedding? Lady Russell would be elated if a duchess were to attend. I believe I would have my mother-in-law's approval for the rest of my days!" Elizabeth answered that Marianne was quite subdued after the loss of her child, and that while she might unobtrusively attend the ceremony, she was unequal to something as social as the wedding breakfast, with all of its guests and that under the circumstances, they should not wish it anyway. "Kitty and I will wear half-mourning for dear little Angelica until the wedding. Poor Marianne is obviously heartbroken over her child. It was the very least we could offer to show our sympathies."

The rest of the ladies all agreed to wear half-mourning until the wedding. Aunt Dashwood was so obviously distressed by the news that Elizabeth suspected she might, after the wedding, revert back to her black, which had taken the family years to convince her to lay aside in favour of lavender and greys following the loss of Mr Dashwood. The lady had never made the change from half-mourning to more usual colours. The family changed for dinner, then went downstairs to join their guests. Margaret made it known to her betrothed and his family that her sister, the duchess, was in the area, though in mourning for her child. Lady Russell was in raptures at this news, indeed everyone who was visiting and was not intimately acquainted with Marianne was intrigued, although the appearance of the family in their half-mourning attire handily subdued an excess of excitement or speculation. The duchess would not be openly socialising, and so there was no point discussing her.

The Dashwood ladies returned subdued, but in lighter spirits than they had been in some time when they returned the following afternoon. It had done them all good to talk everything out with Marianne, and they felt better knowing that while things would never be the same, that Marianne had made peace with Elizabeth and Kitty. It had caused them great discomfort to know that their relations thought so ill of her. They bore an invitation for the family to attend a small family garden party in a few days in honour of Margaret and Vernon's wedding.

The invitation included Lady Rose and Georgiana, but the two of them offered to stay behind to look after the other guests, who by then would mostly have arrived. They bore Marianne no malice, and sent their regards to her, but Lady Rose declared someone must be present for their other guests. Georgiana stayed to assist her grandmother, who was now beyond her eighth decade, and starting to slow down considerably. Thankfully their other guests accepted that her grace was mourning a child, and therefore was only equal to seeing her relations, but they all commended her for making the trip to visit her sister upon her marriage, and sent their best wishes as well.

Lydia outright refused to attend, and no one could change her mind, even Kitty. Kitty had spoken to her alone, and Lydia had snarled, "You only know what it was like for you to be away. By the time you were even able to understand what had happened to you, you were already living safely and comfortably, not to say that you were not still afraid, but you must understand that WE KNEW NOTHING! You could have been anywhere! You could have been sold to a brothel or dumped in the Thames! Do you have any idea the terrible things that could have been happening to you every day? The fears we lived with every day ? You might have been dead, all the time! You knew at least after a time that you were reasonably safe. We had no idea where you were! I did not sleep for over two years, so plagued was I by terrors! Mama woke everyone in the house every night with her screams! I cannot see that woman. I do not know how Lizzy can do it. Lizzy always tries to do what is best for everyone. She does not wish to be cruel to Aunt Dashwood and our cousins, but I cannot turn the other cheek. Shall I read to you your letters from when you lived here, and that girl tormented you? I still have them, and for a time, that is all I thought I would have left of you. That woman is callous, and selfish, and I shall not see her!"

The rest of the family attended, and it was easy to see that Marianne had thrown herself into throwing a positively beautiful party. Elizabeth had asked if she needed any staff, household assistance, or kitchen help, but Marianne insisted that Fleming was a marvel, and all was in hand. "When I joined John, he had only his valet and the nurse. Can you imagine, they were living in a hotel! When his father died, I convinced him that an important man such as a duke must have a capable personal steward. At Pemberley and while travelling, everyone was always so well looked after by dear Mr Banks, I knew we needed just such a man. Then we found Fleming, and John quite agrees, we could never do without him," she shared with Elizabeth.

The flowers and arrangements were lovely indeed. There were three enormous, long tables groaning with gifts just for Margaret alone. Marianne blushed when she displayed the lot. "I missed my family so terribly that I threw myself into collecting fine items for Margaret when she married, and gifts for my other sister and cousins. I did not realise how much I had collected until it was time to pack it all for the trip. the crates took up four very large wagons, and slowed the journey terribly!"

It was a tremendous number of gifts indeed. The tables were groaning heavily with bolts and bolts of cloth, the finest silks, taffetas, velvets, cashmere, organdie, brocades, lace, and more. There was enough fabric for Margaret to be well dressed indeed for many years to come. There were not only fabrics. There were jewels, two stunning parures in diamond and ruby, and several other more modest pieces that, though very costly, would be more appropriate for regular evening and daily wear, and an impressive silver chatelaine. There were three elegant tea services, one worth a fortune in silver, and two in the finest hand painted porcelain. There were two massive collections of fine hand painted porcelain dishes that could serve great parties packed to the side in crates, three fine rugs, several tapestries from abroad, two expensive gold clocks, gilded framed mirrors, small pieces of art, and trunks full of sundries such as pelisses, parasols, gloves, bonnets, stockings, yards upon yards of ribbon, and whatever else Marianne had found upon her travels.

Margaret and Vernon were dumbfounded by the enormity of the generous gifts, and Margaret, overwhelmed by such largesse, burst into tears, and threw her arms around her sister. Lady Russell and her daughters were looking green with envy at all the valuables, and so Marianne, nobody's fool, led them to the next room, where there were several more tables laden with gifts for the family.

There were several rich bolts of fabric and lace as well as two fine bonnets each and lovely watches, brooches, and precious bracelets for Mrs Russell and her daughters, a gold clock for Mrs Russell, and a fine tea service for each of the young ladies, to be set by for their own marriages. There was a massive table of fabrics, lace, and gifts for Elinor, with two much smaller but still exquisite sets of porcelain dishes, two delicate tea sets, a fine mantle clock, one lovely rug just right for the Ferrar's parlour and another for Elinor's bedroom, as well as a fine watch, a few small brooches, modest necklaces, and earbobs that would suit her position, a pile of sundries twice as large as Margaret's, as well as an enormous stack of gowns, short clothes, books, and toys for Elinor's son, including a handsome wooden rocking horse and a fine collection of hand carved soldiers, both British and French.

Mrs Dashwood, Elizabeth, and her sisters were all gifted many lovely bolts of cloth, lace, and bonnets in styles and colours that Marianne had known would suit them all. The men all received fine leather gloves, jewelled cufflinks, and gold and diamond watch fobs, including Mr Russell and his father. Vernon's twelve-year-old brother received a fine leather saddle that made all the gentlemen drool. The boy could not contain himself, and hugged Marianne and spun her around in his excitement. There was no question that Marianne had indeed been thinking of her family while she had been away.

Marianne shared with Elizabeth that she had found it necessary to send Fleming and her maid out for the brooches, bonnets, and tea sets for the Russell ladies, the rocking horse, and the gifts for the gentlemen. He had bartered heavily for the saddle, which had been made for another, and he had appropriated it for her grace's needs, paying thrice its value. She hated to leave anyone out. The gentlemen, still not resigned to any of this, accepted the gifts rather uncomfortably. They all (save the Russells) wished to beat the young duke to a pulp rather than accept gifts from his largesse, but it was obvious the duchess had been much affected by her recent loss, and was so obviously delighted to be with her family again. They could not bring themselves to be unkind to her.

The party enjoyed a luncheon in the garden in good spirits. The Russells were beside themselves at such attention from a duchess, and Margaret and Mrs Dashwood were elated at being with Marianne again. Elinor, being more serious in disposition, and who had always displayed more serene reserve than her sisters, was more subdued than the others, but Elizabeth could see it had done her good to see Marianne. The gifts were packed up and sent to Pemberley by the staff while the family ate, and Elizabeth assured Marianne that she would arrange transport with armed guards to deliver the lot to Margaret's new home once she had returned from her wedding trip.

Marianne informed Margaret and Vernon privately that the amount settled upon Margaret by the duke would be thirty thousand and a modest but respectable house in town, providing Mr Russell signed the settlement with the same stipulations that Elizabeth insisted upon for her own sisters. Elizabeth assured her that the document in question had already been signed, and that it was no trouble at all to call the solicitor from Lambton to Pemberley the following day to update and notarize the amounts in question.

*****

Lydia refused to accept any gifts that had been sent to her by Marianne. Eventually, after her sisters pestered her, she gave in, looked over the items, and gave the most precious of the lace and silk to Georgiana. She then sent two bolts of cloth each, some lace, and matching bonnets to genteel but not wealthy young ladies from Lambton and Kympton who would be marrying soon, for their wedding gowns or trousseaux. She sent two bolts of fine cloth and some lace to the Misses Merriweather, and two bolts of cloth and some lace to each of the other genteel spinsters in Lambton.

She took the rest of the fabric and sent it all to Freddie Vaughan in London, with instructions to make something terribly fine for his mother and sisters, then instructed Mrs Hayes to divide the sundries among herself and the female staff in the house. Her sisters dared not say a word, and were instead grateful that the items had made thoughtful gifts for many worthy people.

Elizabeth quite enjoyed the afternoon Lydia arranged in Pemberley's drawing room just after the wedding, where she assisted all of the local ladies who had received fabric in retrimming old bonnets to match their new gowns. It was a fun and girlish activity, and the ladies enjoyed the afternoon immensely. Like Elizabeth, Lydia had a soft spot for the spinsters and widows in Lambton.

The wedding day was lovely, though the guests were rather distracted by the duchess in the front row, but Marianne kept her eyes forward, chin high, and acknowledged no one other than her family. There were whispers of sympathy for the poor young noblewoman, mourning her poor child, but once the organist began playing, all eyes were upon the bride. The ceremony was moving, and every lady cried as the young bride was given away by her brother Mr Ferrars. Margaret kissed her sisters and mother just before her new husband handed her into her carriage. Once Margaret was on her way to Pemberley, and most of the guests dispersed, Marianne made her farewells, and as she did so, an even grander carriage than her own pulled up to the church. The crowd gasped as Mr Fleming blanched, hurried from her grace's side, elbowed the liveried footman out of the way, and opened the door for the Duke of Leeds to step out.

Marianne looked terrified as the duke made his way to her and beckoned to Elizabeth and Darcy. Kitty and Brandon, and Elinor and Edward made their way over as well. "You have my apologies for creating a distraction at my sister's wedding. I am not here to create any trouble. If you gentlemen wish to have a private conversation with me, that can be arranged, but I hope you will understand that given our recent loss, my son and I can bear the absence of my wife no longer, and I wish to escort her back to Vienna. Indeed, she had hardly left before we were utterly wretched, and compelled to follow her." The younger man bowed to Elizabeth and said with a glint in his eye, "Pistols at dawn, Lady Darcy?"

"Perhaps not this time, considering my present condition," replied Elizabeth dryly. "Another time, I make no promises, sir." As she observed the young duke, somehow more serious than she expected him to be, gazing at her cousin as if she were the moon and stars, Elizabeth decided that she might grudgingly accept his existence one day, if only because he quite obviously loved her cousin to distraction.

John Willoughby, Duke of Leeds chuckled and answered, "I look forward to it, madam." He turned to Kitty and Brandon and said, "Brandon, I have no right to approach your wife, but I must say something. Mrs Brandon, there are no words, no appropriate way to convey my apologies and feelings of disgust for what my father did to you. When we met, I was a libertine. I played with your girlish sensibilities in a callous manner, and then abandoned my attentions to you in an unacceptable fashion. I had no way of knowing my association with Marianne would result in such disaster for you. I know there is no way for me to make amends, but I do wish you to at least know that I am profoundly sorry for what befell you at my father's hands, and that I did not ignore your plight.

"I had my own spies within my father's house, and I sent out many investigators in search of you. I had my people in my father's house digging for information, and once my father died, several trusted retainers turned my father's properties upside down looking for information. My efforts were probably not as extensive as your sister's, but she is a lucky woman to have Mr Montague in her service. I thanked God when I knew you were found, and I thank God every day since, for whatever that is worth to you. I know my wife and I have caused you and your family untold grief, and I only want to tell you how relieved I am to see you looking so happy and well cared for, in the bosom of your family, and under the protection of a loving husband, as you deserve."

He looked at the rest of them. "Marianne and I were impetuous, impulsive, selfish, and stupid, and we caused you all pain on numerous occasions. It is useless to tell you how we have grown up, that we have changed for the better, because nothing can change the past. We only wish you and all your family to know that we are sorry for all of the pain we created, and to say that if we can ever be of service to any of you, that you need only ask." He then looked at Mrs Dashwood. "We plan to leave for our journey just after luncheon tomorrow. Would you care to visit your grandson before we leave, madam?"

Mrs Dashwood, Elinor, and Mr Ferrars all agreed to go to Maplewood early for breakfast and luncheon the following day to farewell the little family. Darcy and Brandon, after being pinched by their wives several times, said nothing, though Brandon was nearly purple with all the things he wanted to say (or do).

When they reached Pemberley and joined their guests, the consensus was that it was gallant indeed for the young duke to come to escort his young wife home after her visit, and everyone expressed sympathy for the young couple so obviously affected by the loss of their poor child. The family managed to turn most of the conversations to more desirable topics, and the party enjoyed a lovely wedding breakfast. Margaret and Vernon boarded their carriage and left for Sanditon, where Mrs Bertelli had done her part to prepare Shannon View, and make it welcoming for them.