Epilogue

Elizabeth soon realised she had much to learn. Many recollections surfaced in her mind, and careful enquiries confirmed they were all true. Darcy had indeed visited Netherfield with Bingley in the autumn of 1811. His overt enthusiasm upon meeting her at the assembly had deterred her from furthering their acquaintance, and despite his efforts, they had not reached an understanding before he was called away in November. A fire had broken out at Pemberley, demanding his immediate return.

The fragments of memory Elizabeth held suggested Darcy’s attempts at courtship during his brief time in Hertfordshire had been tumultuous. He had attempted to keep himself aloof, afraid that his attentions might alter her future, that in doing so she would never send the letter that saved him. But her siren’s call drove him to seek her company, confusing Elizabeth and driving her to keep her distance.

After his departure, Bingley’s sister s had tried their best to convince their brother to abandon the estate, but dear Charles had resisted. He married Jane early in 1812. Elizabeth remembered the wedding clearly, though she could not recall if Darcy had been there. Charles insisted his friend or his brother-in-law had stood with him, but another family crisis had pulled Darcy away immediately after the wedding breakfast, leaving him no chance to speak to Elizabeth.

When she visited the Collinses at Hunsford during Easter, Lady Catherine subjected Elizabeth to her lamentations about the absence of her favourite nephew. Business matters had kept Darcy in London until after Elizabeth’s departure from Kent.

The invitation to the Lake House at Ramsgate had come via letter when Charles wrote to Darcy about Jane’s poor health. Mr Darcy had graciously offered the use of the Lake House for as long as needed, and the Bingleys happily accepted. Elizabeth travelled with them, just as she remembered, though at some point, she had left for a holiday with her London relations.

Darcy and Elizabeth both recalled seeing each other in Derbyshire whilst she was in the company of the Gardiners. The timing of the holiday had been ideal, as Jane had recovered much of her illness, allowing Elizabeth to travel without worry for her sister. Her memories suggested Darcy had courted her in earnest during her stay, and he was on the verge of proposing when scandal separated them.

Lydia eloped with Mr Denny, a member of the militia whom she had met during the regiment’s winter encampment at Meryton for the winter. They fled from Brighton whilst Lydia was staying with her particular friend, Mrs Forster, the wife of the regiment’s colonel. Darcy found Denny and Lydia in London and ensured that they married.

After securing Lydia’s marriage to Denny, Fate proved unkind once more, calling Darcy to Scotland to oversee the removal of an embezzling steward. The harsh winter months had trapped him in the north, and it was March before he had returned to Pemberley. Following that, small matters kept them apart until Darcy finally resolved to join the Bingleys and Elizabeth at the Lake House.

After Jane’s tumultuous pregnancy and the birth of her children, they arranged a house party in Ramsgate. Darcy’s sister and cousin confirmed their invitations, as did Elizabeth’s sister, Mary. Thus, Georgiana and Colonel Fitzwilliam’s presence in Ramsgate at this time was rewritten—not to await the end of a lease, but to enjoy the company of friends and family. During the evening, Darcy returned the music Elizabeth had found in the chair to his sister and encouraged her to retrieve their father’s snuffbox from the hollow in the tree.

William and Margaret had not changed from what she remembered, and Elizabeth insisted she was still their favourite aunt and preferred playmate. Darcy was surprised and deeply honoured to learn that William had been named for him.

Darcy and Elizabeth married within a week of their reunion in Ramsgate. The ceremony was a simple affair, attended only by the Bingleys, Mary, Miss Darcy, and Colonel Fitzwilliam, yet it was beautiful. They stayed in Ramsgate for the rest of the summer, spending some time sequestered in a small cottage Darcy had leased for their wedding tour.

At times, it was hard to distinguish what was real from what was not. Once, Elizabeth awoke infuriated from a dream that seemed so vivid that she burst into tears upon waking. Thankfully, her dear husband was there to comfort her.

“What is troubling you?” he asked tenderly, drawing her into his arms.

“You insulted me.” Elizabeth sniffled, wiping her nose with a handkerchief. “We were at an assembly in Meryton, and when Charles pressed you to dance, you called me tolerable and not handsome enough to tempt you!” Hurt filled her heart, and she buried her tear-streaked face in his chest. The irrational anger that threatened to overwhelm her stemmed from something deep within, leaving her to wonder whether it had been a memory or merely the product of a fatigued mind.

Her husband kissed her head and stroked her back soothingly. “We both know that I find you far more than tolerable . You are the handsomest woman of my acquaintance.”

Elizabeth sighed and felt comforted. Darcy would never say such a thing. Never. She snuggled deeper into his embrace, and her husband held her until she drifted back to sleep.

Lady Catherine became incensed when Darcy married ‘a country nobody’ and vowed never to acknowledge Mrs Darcy. Elizabeth would not have minded much, except that her cousin Collins then forbade Charlotte from writing to her. Charlotte, however, paid him no heed and simply enclosed her letters in missives to her family, the Lucases, with a request to forward them to Pemberley or Darcy House.

Elizabeth did introduce Mary to Mr Blandishman, and the man’s preoccupation with her quickly shifted in favour of her younger sister. After just three weeks of courtship, he proposed, and Mary accepted. Unlike Mr Collins, Mr Blandishman did not try to make Elizabeth feel regret for her lack of interest in him, instead thanking her for her good sense and for introducing him to his wife. The happy couple retreated to their estate after their wedding tour.

Jane and Charles purchased an estate not twenty miles from Pemberley when the twins turned a year old. Shortly after settling in, Jane discovered she was expecting again. This time, her health was far better, and she found she could enjoy the experience of carrying a child.

Lydia and Denny remained in the north for some time, frequently pestering the Bingleys and Darcys for funds. Jane was quick to offer aid, but Elizabeth was more reluctant, knowing that any help provided was likely to be squandered. Denny stayed quartered with a northern regiment for several years before he and his wife emigrated to the Americas. They sent two or three letters in the first twelve months after their arrival, but no one heard from them thereafter. Elizabeth hoped the Dennys had built a successful life for themselves and avoided any misfortunes.

The year 1814 saw the birth of Bennet Charles Darcy. Mrs Bennet expressed her joy at having another grandson and congratulated Elizabeth on providing her husband with an heir so promptly. The Darcys would have three more children: two sons who, like their elder brother, inherited their father’s striking looks and commanding stature, and a daughter who, in both appearance and temperament, was the very image of her mother. The children grew up much loved by their parents and enjoyed frequent company with their cousins, aunts, and uncles.

Kitty eventually found a husband after a successful season in Town. She came out in London with Georgiana Darcy, and the pair became the best of friends and closest confidantes. Both married and settled within an easy distance of each other, as happy in their lives as Jane and Elizabeth.

~

The Lake House remained much as it always had. After Bennet was born, the Darcys returned to Ramsgate, determined to continue their tradition of summers by the sea. Though still baffled by the strange events that brought them together, they persisted in their search to seek answers.

“It makes little sense,” Elizabeth insisted. She and her husband sat in the Lake House’s library, poring over the volumes they had gathered. “There is nothing here about any peculiar occurrences in the house.”

“There was nothing at Pemberley, either,” Darcy mused thoughtfully. “I thought surely we would uncover something in my ancestor’s recordings.”

“There was a volume missing from your grandmother’s journals,” Elizabeth reminded him. “An entire two-year span of memories—gone. I am certain the answers lie within that missing volume.”

Her husband shrugged, resigned. “Alas, we cannot know for certain until we find it, and it does not seem to be here.”

A discreet cough from the doorway drew their attention. Mr Smythe stood there, as composed and stoic as ever.

“If I may, sir, madam,” he began, his tone formal yet hesitant. “There is something about the Lake House that you deserve to know.”

Darcy gave a nod, encouraging him to continue. Smythe entered the library and closed the door behind him. Crossing the room with measured steps, he came to stand before them, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Take a seat, Smythe,” Darcy said, gesturing to a chair. He took it, perching on the edge of his seat nervously.

“You are aware,” Smythe began hesitantly, “that this place possesses an unusual quality… it bridges time, connecting distinct moments. In fact, the Lake House holds a peculiar ability which enables those destined to find one another to do so. You may wonder how I have been able to serve both of you, unchanged, though separated by two years.”

Smythe paused, clearing his throat and adjusting his cuffs. “The truth is, the house has chosen me, as it did those who came before me, as its steward. It allows me to exist within these walls across time. For me, 1810 and 1812 are not separate but rather intertwined. I have moved between them, ensuring that the letters you exchanged reached their rightful hands at the precise moment necessary.” He looked at his master and mistress, gauging their reactions to his startling revelation before continuing.

“There is a hidden post box, built into the wall behind the painting of Antony Lake—your many-greats grandfather—near the entry. That post box serves as the focal point of the connexion—the bridge that allowed your letters to traverse time.”

Darcy’s expression was incredulous but not disbelieving. “Go on,” choked Darcy, hoarse with emotion.

Smythe nodded and resumed. “This is not a power I wield, but a responsibility bestowed upon me by the house itself. It has guided me, as it did those in my family before me, just as it guided your letters. The house’s purpose is to unite individuals—those in whom it senses a bond yet unrealised, a couple destined to be together in life, whose connexion transcends the ordinary. Why the house does this, I cannot say with certainty, but I believe it senses something unique in these individuals, driving it to unite them.

In your case, the House spared Miss Darcy from potential tragedy, and you, sir, from a far graver fate—death at the hands of that vermin, Wickham. My role was to see that you and Mrs Darcy came together and to safeguard the connexion the house had forged between you.”

Smythe smiled, a rare sight that startled Elizabeth to her core. How long have I attempted to elicit such an expression?

“Now that you are married,” the butler continued, “and your family members are safe, the house has served its purpose for you. The post box will remain dormant now, its work complete, until it is once more called upon to help other individuals destined to cross the Lake House’s threshold, just as it helped the two of you. I shall return to my usual duties, grateful to have played a part in your story, leaving the next chapter to be written by a future generation. Know that your bond is one the house itself deemed worthy—a truth most extraordinary. As for the missing journal, Mrs. Amelia Darcy left it in my great-grandmother’s care. I have it if you desire to read it.”

Despite their butler’s assurances, as they grew older, Mr and Mrs Darcy often wondered whether all that Fate—or perhaps Providence—had brought upon them had truly unfolded as they remembered. Yes, when doubts crept in, they would retrieve a small wooden box, adorned with a brass clasp and hinges, and carved with delicate lavender blossoms on its lid. Inside lay a year’s worth of letters, tangible proof that their love story had spanned the reaches of time. Never would they forget or deny the events that had shaped their lives, and they would remain forever grateful for the unseen force that had intervened and given their love the chance to flourish.

~

I hope you enjoyed The Lake House at Ramsgate !

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