Epilogue

Derbyshire, Autumn 1813

"The post, ma'am."

Elizabeth flashed a quick smile at the butler and accepted the letters he presented to her on a silver salver. He then retreated to attend to his duties elsewhere while she flipped through the short stack of correspondence.

"Have you received word from the Gardiners, my love?" asked Darcy from the seat beside her as he buttered his toast.

It was their custom to break their fasts together before necessarily being divided for much of the day with their own concerns. For the master of Pemberley, there were always letters to be written, tenants to visit, and general business to conduct, while the grand estate's mistress could often be found tending to the household accounts, writing menus, and seeing to charitable endeavours for the less fortunate. Though they spent many hours apart, the Darcys always began and ended the day in one another's sole company.

"Yes, at last!" Elizabeth replied upon spotting her own name in the light, feminine hand of her aunt. "I do hope my uncle was able to arrange his business affairs so that he might travel with my aunt and the children. I hate the idea of him spending Christmas alone in Gracechurch Street."

The missive did, indeed, contain welcome news, and Elizabeth noted she must alert Mrs Reynolds that all of the Gardiners would be spending Yuletide at Pemberley. The dear housekeeper was almost certainly mindful of it already, but naturally she would wish for a confirmation.

"Kitty writes," said Elizabeth as she scanned the contents of her next letter, "that the drawing master we engaged for her and Mary is wonderful. Mary is not so keen on him, but I suppose she prefers to focus on her music. Look here, they are learning carols!"

"I look forward to hearing them play. Does it say which songs they are currently practising? Georgiana will want to know when she arrives."

"Mm, there are a few mentioned, I shall pass the list along. Of course, we presuppose that she and Mary have not already corresponded at length on the subject and prepared a full concert for us."

Their younger sisters swapped letters so frequently, it would not surprise Elizabeth one jot if that was their intended plan for the holiday visit. She could easily picture Georgiana and Mary taking turns at the keys while Kitty warbled a pretty tune for company. It warmed her heart to see them all getting on famously with one another, especially for Georgiana's sake; the poor girl had always wished for sisters and now had a surfeit of them.

"You are most probably right, my dear. Does your mother have anything interesting to say?"

Elizabeth stroked the curve of her slightly distended belly as she searched out Mrs Bennet's latest missive. "No doubt more advice on begetting you an heir. She will be immensely pleased to learn that I have taken it to heart and?—"

She was rendered immediately silent upon beholding the direction of an envelope buried in the middle of her stack. It was sloppy and painfully familiar. She cracked the seal and read:

Dear Lizzy,

A little birdie told me that the entire family is gathering at Pemberley for Christmas. I have yet to receive an invitation, though I am sure it was merely misdirected because we have changed quarters again. I have included our new direction at the bottom of this page and you may send a carriage for me there at your convenience. My dear Wickie, I am sure, can shift for himself for a few weeks since this same birdie believes him to be unwelcome. Oh, but do also make sure to send me some money by return post, for I do not think I have quite enough to travel all that way in comfort and, naturally, I shall need a new gown for the festive season. A few pounds will do. Think of it as an early Christmas present.

Yours it was far too little, too late for clemency. She had long ago ceased to respond to any of Lydia's entreaties for it only encouraged her to make more.

Taking the note from her hand, Darcy carried it across the room and deposited it in the same place as all of Mrs Wickham's previous letters—the fire grate. He jabbed viciously at it once or twice with the poker and then resumed his seat at the breakfast table.

"I shall never understand where she finds the gall to come to us with her hand out after what she has done. Wickham, at least, seems to realise that avenue is closed."

Sighing, Elizabeth took Darcy's hand and squeezed it, hoping to soothe his ire. "Lydia has never been known for learning a lesson. She might give up in a year or two, if we are lucky."

Darcy shook his head and then took up Elizabeth's hand, bestowing a soft kiss upon it. "Forget the Wickhams and their nonsense. What does your father have to say?"

"Knowing him, his letter will be full of wild speculation about the library. I have been teasing him mercilessly and refusing to give him any details before he arrives. He might remember to ask after our health in a postscript, but I would not count upon it."

"You ought not tease a man over books, Elizabeth. 'Tis cruel."

Elizabeth laughed at this ungenerous portrait of herself. "I recall a time not too long past that you and my father did not care for one another! Now you have taken his part against mine. For shame, sir."

"Books are a serious matter." A smirk curled along the line of Darcy's lips.

In the year since their marriage, Darcy and Mr Bennet had reached a détente of sorts. They were very different men in many ways, but they were united in their love of books and Elizabeth. This created enough common ground for them to rub along together tolerably well, at least on those occasions when they must endure one another.

Tossing her head with dramatic flourish, Elizabeth rose from her seat and made as if to leave the room. "Betrayed by my own husband! This is not to be borne."

Her escape was immediately hampered by Darcy taking possession of her hand and tugging her into his lap. Elizabeth giggled against her husband's lips and squirmed in his hold, but eventually ceded to the lure of his ardent affections.

Fin