42. Epilogue

Epilogue

T he late summer sun cast a warm, golden glow over Pemberley's gardens, where a small clutch of friends and family had gathered to revel in the last of the warm rays for the season. Elizabeth, seated on a blanket spread beneath the shade of a broad oak tree, watched with amusement as Georgiana Darcy tried—and failed—to conceal her nervous excitement about her upcoming journey to London for her come-out ceremony.

"I cannot imagine what all the fuss is about," Elizabeth teased lightly, her smile broadening as Georgiana glanced over with a look of mild horror. "Surely you do not mean to tell me you are nervous, Georgiana? You, who have faced far worse challenges, such as… learning to dance with Richard?"

Richard Fitzwilliam, who was lounging nearby with his wife, Charlotte, chuckled. "Learning to dance with me was indeed a trial," he quipped, taking a sip of his lemonade. "But I dare say she came through it splendidly. And I would wager she will do the same at her come out."

Georgiana blushed, casting a shy smile in her brother's direction. Darcy, who was seated beside Elizabeth, gave his sister an encouraging nod. "You have nothing to fear, Georgiana. You will be the toast of the season, I am certain of it."

Bingley, sitting across from them with Jane, grinned. "Quite right. And you will have all of us there to cheer you on."

"Oh, that is very easy for you to say, Mr Bingley," Georgiana retorted. "You are always easy in company, but I…"

Elizabeth rubbed a hand absently over her stomach and cast a wry grin at the man beside her. "A family characteristic, my dear. But, as you can see, your brother has overcome at least most of his reticence in company. Surely you will do likewise."

"I was not reticent," Darcy quipped. "I was suffering from hideous megrims throughout the entirety of our early acquaintance, yet the woman insists on painting me as retiring and unapproachable in company. "

"You still are, my love," she soothed, lacing her hand through his. "But I rather like it when you make that forbidding face, especially when I am standing beside you. It spares me the trouble of speaking with ever so many dull people."

Bingley laughed outright. "You ought to have seen him at school, Mrs Darcy. I daresay, any friends he had were because they were friends of mine first."

"And you were entirely too sociable," Darcy muttered, but not without an amused quirk of his brow toward Bingley.

"Ah, yes. And too easily led… I know well my faults, Darcy, and I have repented of them. It is a mercy I have always had you to pull me back to some semblance of rationality when I have quite lost my head."

"That is not entirely true." Darcy sipped his own lemonade. "I cautioned you when the repair estimates for Netherfield came in that you would end up footing half of it, but you plunged ahead anyway."

"Well, it is only because Northam agreed to sell me the property at a tremendous loss to himself. He only wanted to have done with the thing, poor chap. By the by, did I tell you that Mr Bennet has agreed to sell me the farms that Wickham had suggested purchasing?"

Elizabeth straightened. "He did? When was this?'

"Last month, Lizzy," Jane replied. "Just after Mr Collins and Mary announced they would be adding a little ‘olive branch' to the family. Papa said, and I quote, ‘Let us not burden the poor chap with more than he can manage, eh? And I hope he sires twelve daughters for his trouble.'"

Elizabeth laughed. "That sounds like Papa. Well, Mr Bingley, I am quite certain that you will manage those farms far better than Mr Collins would when he comes into his inheritance."

" If, you mean," Jane sighed. "Papa says he means to outlive all of us."

"He just might," Bingley added, rising from the blanket to bring Jane another tarte and refill his lemonade. "With all the work of these last months, I feel like I have aged ten years, but Bennet relaxes in his book room and l think his age regresses every time I meet him."

Richard, catching the tail end of their conversation, turned with a grin. "Speaking of work, Bingley, I hear you are nearly done with the restoration. It seems you have worked a small miracle."

Bingley chuckled, a hint of bashfulness in his expression. "Oh, I would not go so far as to say that. But it is coming along. I am just grateful to see the house standing again. It really is the ideal situation. Just the place I want to raise a family." He followed this with a warm smile at Jane as he reclaimed the seat beside her.

Jane Bingley stiffened. "Charles!" she whispered harshly. "It is too soon!"

"Not a bit of it," Elizabeth insisted. "We all knew the moment you stepped out of the carriage, Jane. And how charming that the cousins will be close in age!"

Jane Bingley bit her lip and slid a cheeky look to her husband. "Indeed, Lizzy. It is only a pity that Derbyshire is not a terribly easy distance from Hertfordshire."

"Nonsense. You forget, we will be wintering in London for Georgiana's Season. My goodness, I hope Lady Matlock is right about that modiste."

"Hmm?" Jane looked puzzled.

"Oh! She swears that a talented modiste will hide…" she swept a hand over her growing middle… " this . But do you know, I think perhaps I do not wish to conceal anything. I am rather proud of the fact that I can port around all this ponderous weight, and I have yet to injure my ankle again in the process."

Richard roared in laughter. "Fear not, Mrs Darcy. I am certain you will find some opportunity or other to discomfit yourself, should the need arise."

"Is that an insult, Colonel Fitzwilliam?" she shot back.

"No, the highest esteem, I assure you, Mrs Darcy. One never knows when a little ‘mishap' may prove to be a convenient excuse, particularly during one of my mother's soirees." At the sound of Darcy's snort, Richard turned his gaze to his cousin. "And what of you, cousin? Are you prepared for the whirlwind that is to come? I suspect Georgiana's debut will be quite the affair."

Darcy glanced at Georgiana, who was seated nearby with Elizabeth. "I am certain she will do wonderfully," he replied, his tone soft with brotherly affection. "She is ready, even if I am not."

Elizabeth turned to him with a teasing smile. "I daresay it is you who are most anxious about the event, Mr Darcy. Poor Georgiana has been much more rational about the matter than you have."

Darcy chuckled, unable to deny it. "Perhaps you are right, Mrs Darcy. I suppose I still find it difficult to see my little sister grown and ready for society. But enough of such talk, for I see my poor sister is turning a rather pretty shade of pink again at all this attention."

Elizabeth leaned a little closer to Darcy, her arm brushing his ever so slightly. She could feel the warmth of his presence, his steady calm in contrast to the lively chatter around them. With a soft smile, she tilted her head toward him and whispered, "Shall we take a turn about the gardens then, Fitzwilliam? I find I could use a bit of air."

Darcy's eyes met hers, and she saw a playful glimmer in his expression, a contrast to his usual composed demeanour. He nodded, rising from his seat. "A fine idea," he said quietly, offering her his arm. "Cheerio, everyone."

She took it gratefully, feeling the familiar comfort of his strength as they made their way out of the drawing room. As they walked, the sounds of laughter and conversation from their friends faded, replaced by the rustle of leaves and the gentle murmur of the brook nearby. Elizabeth breathed in the fresh air, savouring the tranquillity of the gardens.

They walked in a comfortable silence for a few moments, enjoying the peacefulness that the outdoors always seemed to bring. Elizabeth's heart swelled with affection for the man beside her. It was moments like these—simple, quiet, shared—that she cherished most.

Breaking the silence, she chuckled softly, turning her gaze up to his. "Do you think you shall ever get used to such gatherings, Fitzwilliam? With Georgiana's debut approaching, I fear your patience shall be tested to its limits."

He smiled, a warm and genuine expression that softened his features. "If I am to survive it, I shall need your support, Mrs Darcy."

"You have it, always. Though I must say, I think you could simply feign a headache. You have ample experience in knowing how it is done."

"Feign! Madam, you wound me. Do you not know that deceit of any nature is my particular abhorrence?"

She tilted her head with a teasing grin. "Deceit… and crowds."

"Now, I must protest. When have I ever—"

As they rounded a bend near the stream, she was just distracted enough by provoking her husband that she did not notice the root hidden beneath the grass. Her foot caught on it, and she stumbled forward, a sharp intake of breath escaping her lips as pain shot through her ankle.

"Elizabeth!" Darcy's voice was filled with concern as he quickly caught her up in his arms, though not swiftly enough to prevent her fall.

Elizabeth hobbled a little, tangling her arms about his neck for support and leaning back against his chest as she hissed in pain. There was a fresh rip in her gown, just over the knee, and grass stains on her stockings. But the worst was that blasted ankle… always the same one! A few indelicate words slipped by her defences as she winced against the sharp agony.

Darcy slipped his other arm around her, angling to catch her weight better. "Are you hurt?"

She winced, trying to muster a smile despite the pain. "I am afraid I have been rather clumsy, Fitzwilliam. It seems my ankle has betrayed me once more."

Darcy chuckled softly, though she could see the worry in his eyes. "Perhaps I should carry you back, as I threatened to do before."

A laugh bubbled up from her chest, temporarily overriding the throbbing in her ankle. "If you must. It appears I cannot trust my feet any longer."

Without hesitation, he bent down and scooped her up, cradling her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath her cheek. "It seems I am destined to be your rescuer, my dear," he said with a soft smile, "not that I mind in the slightest."

Her fingers lightly traced the line of his collar, and she looked up at him with a playful glint in her eyes. "And I am most grateful for it, Mr Darcy. Always."

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