Epilogue

SPRING, 1813

" C an we not tell people that you think you were locked in a painting?" Viscount Saye, Darcy's eldest cousin asked as they sat together over Darcy's breakfast table one fine spring morning during the Season. He was, as ever, most concerned for how the most recent family lore might embarrass him. "It just feels a trifle…common."

"Common? I assure you, common was the absolute last word I should use to describe the experience," Darcy observed over his coffee cup. He had never much liked coffee prior to his experience at Pemberley but now found he most enjoyed intensely flavourful things.

"Not common as in the experience itself being ordinary," Saye replied. "Common as in happening to hoi polloi . To have such a thing happen among someone of our sphere? You have to admit it is rather undignified."

"These people and their curses have no regard for the preservation of rank," Colonel Fitzwilliam asserted with just enough satire for Saye to overlook him and Darcy to privately grin at him.

Nevertheless, Darcy had absolutely no opinion for Saye's thoughts on the matter, for he was far too happy in his present condition to allow Saye, or any other person for that matter, to vex him. He had married Elizabeth in a double ceremony with her sister Jane and Mr Charles Bingley in October 1812. Mr and Mrs Bingley were both delighted with the turn of events, and Bingley and Darcy became fast friends.

His family, Georgiana in particular, were delighted to see him freed, even if they had no recollection of Pemberley being laid to waste in his absence. Saye took credit for keeping it in its present, impeccable state while Darcy was away. Georgiana, who now boasted exemplary health with no unusual maladies, begged to be permitted to come and live there rather than continue with her Matlock relations. It was a request both Darcy and Elizabeth granted happily.

If those among the ton were surprised to see the return of Fitzwilliam Darcy, their surprise was soon turned to amusement and confusion as Saye told one fantastical tale after the next regarding his absence. Darcy had been, alternately, on a ship that had been captured by pirates, almost eaten by a tiger in India (which was sometimes an alligator in the Carolinas of America), in gaol for political reasons, in gaol for non-political reasons, and kidnapped by a mad debutante who tried for six years to force him to marry her.

It was Bingley's sister who, for the sake of her own status, claimed to have danced with him twice during her coming out ball two years prior, after which a multitude of other ladies claimed the same. A Mr Waller said he had bested him while they fenced earlier that winter, and he had given Lord Claybourne a payment for a debt he owed him from the Season prior…so perhaps he had been about. Lord only knew that Darcy was such a quiet man, given to standing in corners, he was often at parties and went unnoticed.

In any case, Mr Darcy and his bride were welcome to be anywhere they wished to go but where they most often wished to be was at their beloved Pemberley. The early years of their marriage positively flew by particularly once they were blessed with a son, then another son, and then a daughter in rapid succession.

George Wickham surprised them all by taking orders and then happily living out his days as the parson for the parish in Kympton. After much wooing and many apologies, he was able to secure the hand of Miss Mary King from Hertfordshire, and the two had ten children, all of them—save the last—female.

"He always did like to be around ladies," Elizabeth Darcy remarked to her sister Mrs Lydia Collins, who nodded in agreement.

There had been much astonishment within the family circle over Darcy's intention to welcome Jessabelle into the fold. He explained it to them all as he had come to know it himself: the true release from the curse had come when the rift between Jessabelle and the Darcy family was defeated by forgiveness and acceptance. "To be eaten up by pride is disgusting, no matter who are your family," he declared on more than one occasion.

Darcy had discovered, after careful perusal of his father's papers, an inheritance intended for Jessabelle Wickham-Younge, and he was quick to be certain the matter was settled. He offered, in addition, for her to come and live in Mr Wickham's former house at Pemberley.

Jessabelle declined. After so many years of relative independence, she informed him that her dearest wish was to manage her affairs in a home of her own. She returned to her home in London, and established herself as a companion to spirited young ladies who were in need of extra guidance during the Season to make good marriages.

Oddly enough, it soon got around that those young ladies who submitted themselves to Mrs Younge's tutelage had uncommon good fortune in making their marriage matches. Rarely did the ladies therein secure less than the son of a baronet, and it was often remarked that not only did the gentlemen propose marriage, they professed undying love and adoration for their new brides.

"Almost as though some sort of spell was cast upon them," Elizabeth remarked, rather drily, to Jessabelle one day.

"One might say so," Jessabelle agreed.

To stay at Mrs Younge's house and receive her particular guidance, soon became a coveted situation among any young lady wishing for a good marriage, and before she knew it, Jessabelle was required to expand and then expand again.

She was so very occupied minding her business that she almost did not realise she herself had fallen in love…until she found herself with a handsome, eligible, and exceedingly ardent suitor who was nearly fifteen years her junior.

"We seem to belong together, and he makes me happy," Jessabelle told Elizabeth and Darcy with a surprisingly maidenly blush.

Elizabeth patted her hand even as she cast her husband a sweet smile. "And that is all you need for life, is it not?"