Chapter 15

January 6, 1813, Epiphany

Two weeks after Christmas, Elizabeth sat in the front pew of Hunsford church. Charlotte sat on her left, the baby cradled in her arms. It was her churching, the day a new mother came out of confinement and rejoined the world to share the joy of a new life with her family and friends. Everyone had flocked around her and little Thomas before the service began. Mr Collins had stood by, proud as a peacock, as was expected of any new father.

Mr Darcy was on her right, sitting quietly as he watched the service. Mr Collins gave a sermon filled with graciousness and goodwill, albeit every bit as wordy as he had ever been. Elizabeth minded not at all, for his love for Charlotte and little Thomas shone through every word.

Lady Catherine had even made it to the service, to the delight of the villagers. The great lady was quite surprised to see the welcome she received. She had evidently not realised just how vast a part she played in the community. She sat proudly in her Bath chair at the end of the aisle, sitting as straight as was possible in her condition. While she was still weak and unable to walk, Elizabeth was sure she would eventually make a full recovery. If anyone had the stubbornness to get out of a Bath chair and regain the use of their legs, it would be Lady Catherine.

To her surprise, Mr Collins’s prayer over Charlotte and the new baby to end the service was unusually simple and heartfelt. When he finished, he looked up and smiled down from the pulpit at his wife. Elizabeth had to admit it. She had been wrong about Charlotte’s decision to marry Mr Collins. She had thought Charlotte would quickly regret her decision, but it had turned out a hundred times better than Elizabeth could have imagined.

When the service ended, many villagers made their way to the front pew to speak with Lady Catherine. Elizabeth smiled. Lady Catherine was still condescending and a bit overbearing, but her heart was good. She genuinely cared for her people, and it would seem they cared for her.

Miss de Bourgh and Colonel Fitzwilliam, who had been sitting nearest Lady Catherine, joined Elizabeth and Mr Darcy as they waited for the people milling about to disperse from the church. An air of festivity still hung over the atmosphere, so it would be quite some time before they could reach their carriages and go home. “It is just like Christmas morning all over again. I do not think I have seen the people of Hunsford so animated.” Miss de Bourgh said, hanging on Colonel Fitzwilliam’s arm and looking very pretty with a healthy glow on her cheeks. Her pale blue gown was both simpler and more becoming than anything Elizabeth had seen her wear before. Elizabeth knew that when the time came, hopefully not for many years, Anne de Bourgh — who, by then, would be Anne Fitzwilliam — would have no trouble taking her mother’s place as a leader in the community.

“My dear, you must remember that you rarely came out among the villagers. The only time you saw them was if they were issued an invitation from Rosings.”

“That is true. But even so, it feels so good to be out and about, among people who harbour such good will toward each other. We are not only a village, we are a family,” Miss de Bourgh said.

Elizabeth mused it was the example of the leaders that made it so. If Miss de Bourgh kept on with her open-hearted goodwill, Hunsford would well and truly be a family.

“It is good to see everyone, to be sure,” Charlotte interjected. “I feel as if I have been gone for a year, rather than a few weeks.” She gazed at her baby boy, asleep on her breast. Elizabeth leaned over and kissed the baby on the forehead. “He is the perfect baby. He never made a peep all through the service.”

“A true parson’s son,” Fitzwilliam smiled.

Georgiana and Maria joined them a moment later, talking of the music they would play when they all got back to Rosings for Sunday luncheon. Lady Catherine had invited them all to celebrate the end of the Christmas season and Charlotte’s churching. How delightful that Georgiana and Maria had become such fast friends! Perhaps they might even spend summers together, either at Pemberley or Meryton. When Elizabeth and Darcy were married, there would be many such trips back and forth between her new home and her childhood home.

After a quarter of an hour, the church had emptied, and they could get out of the pews and head for the carriages. Once at Rosings, they sat down to a scrumptious feast.

Lady Catherine sat at the head of the table as always, overseeing the proceedings from her Bath chair. “I was glad to hear the banns read for Colonel Fitzwilliam and Anne this morning, Mr Collins. Thank you.”

“It was my supreme pleasure, Lady Cathrine. And I shall be even more pleased to see them married in three weeks’ time. Indeed, I cannot think of anything that gives me more joy.”

Charlotte cleared her throat and shifted Thomas in her arms.

Mr Collins looked embarrassed. “Except for caring for my loving wife and son, of course.”

Elizabeth held back a laugh. She supposed Mr Collins would not be Mr Collins without his overly practised and flowery compliments.

“When will the banns be read for you and Mr Darcy, Miss Bennet? Have your parents been told of the engagement?” Lady Lucas asked.

“No, not yet. We plan to travel to Longbourn in the next few days, so we can settle things with my father,” Elizabeth replied. She smiled at Lady Lucas, knowing that the question held a great deal of genuine friendliness and goodwill, but also some jealousy. Lady Lucas and Mrs Bennet had always pursued a little rivalry, and Lady Lucas had enjoyed triumphing over her rival in securing Mr Collins — and therefore Longbourn itself — for Charlotte. The tables would now be turned, for as the two older ladies would see it, Mr Darcy was a ‘catch’ beyond compare. With a private smile, Elizabeth thought she could not disagree — only she placed the highest value on the greatness of his heart and their deep mutual affection, not his fine house or his fortune.

“It is not official, then?” Lady Lucas asked.

Mr Darcy took the chance to step in. “It will be,” he said, gripping her hand. “I do not think Mr Bennet will raise any objections.”

“He certainly will not,” Lady Catherine said. As if her father saying “no” to Elizabeth marrying Mr Darcy was unheard of. Well, perhaps Lady Catherine was not wrong. Elizabeth well knew her father could not refuse her anything she truly wanted, and there was nothing in the world she wanted half so much as to marry Mr Darcy.

She refused to be upset on this day. Not when Charlotte looked so happy. She was positively glowing and had settled into her role with a grace that Elizabeth hoped she could emulate when she became a mother.

Elizabeth sensed Mr Darcy’s eyes on her and turned to him. He looked at Charlotte and the baby for a moment, and then back at her. His eyes held it all. Her whole body filled with the warmth of the thought of having a child of their own someday. Oh, how she loved this man! She had not even thought it possible to love this deeply a year ago. But she had been wrong. Wrong about so many things: Mr Darcy and his imagined pride, Charlotte and her choice, even her own heart. How lucky she was that everything had turned out quite differently from anything she could have planned! Elizabeth could not have imagined anything so wonderful.

She reached out to Mr Darcy, thankful beyond measure. To judge by the sudden smile he gave her as he took her hand, it would seem he felt the same.

Mr Darcy leaned close and spoke low into her ear. “Soon, Elizabeth. Soon I shall be yours and you shall be mine — though not nearly soon enough for me.”

“Soon,” Elizabeth vowed.

Yes, my love — not nearly soon enough for me.

THE END