Epilogue

The Dupain School for Educated Young Ladies, Hertfordshire, 1825...

The milestones of Catherine, Lady Longbottom's life could be measured in ballrooms.

From the Engagement Ball at the former Netherfield Park, where she had first danced with her then-future husband, to grand parties in Sweden and Norway under a Midnight Sun. From London ballrooms filled with investors and would-be manufacturers, to hosting dances herself in Scarborough, to being a guest at balls thrown by her friends and sisters, the twelve years of her married life had flown by.

Chloe danced past in the arms of John Dupain, the former John Lucas, who had offered to take his wife's name when she refused to change the name of the school she had founded, "After all the paperwork I did, and would have to do again? I would rather remain a Spinster!"

John had returned from University the same year Chloe opened her school, with Henrietta and Penelope as her first teachers. He'd promptly fallen head over heels for the young headmistress, and since his father was in good health, offered to join the teaching ranks. Somewhere along the line, he'd won her heart, though Chloe only conceded her hand when he offered to give up his name for hers.

Sir William and Lady Lucas had been appalled, of course, but John made a far better teacher than he did a landowner, and even Sir William Lucas had to admit that Henry, the next-eldest Lucas brother, did a far better job of managing Lucas Lodge.

Miss Millicent Brown, one of the first students Catherine had sponsored through a scholarship, caught her eye from across the room. She had graduated, then served something of a teaching apprenticeship before taking her place as a teacher of Advanced Mathematics. Catherine could not have been more proud of her.

Lydia, Baroness Rowanfield, was too large with her third child to be dancing tonight, but had insisted upon coming to watch, and to tour the school that she hoped to one day send her daughter. Jane's daughter, not yet a year old and the youngest after her three older brothers, still had quite some time before Jane and Charles had to think about her schooling.

Catherine herself had been blessed with only two children, a son and a daughter, both of whom had remained in Scarborough under the care of their Uncle Michael and Aunt Amelia, having proclaimed the company of their cousins as far preferable to a ball. They were only eight, still a long

way from being permitted to join social events outside of family, and had plenty of time to change their minds.

Catherine's mother and mother-in-law were sitting together, along with Aunt Phillips. When Chloe had been selling off some of the land that comprised the bulk of Netherfield Park, Mrs. Longbottom had purchased a small plot nearest Meryton, and built a cottage. It was much smaller than Snowsdale or Longbourn, but fit three elderly widows (and a few servants) quite handily, after Papa died last year.

Catherine had never been close to her father, but nor had she been disappointed by him. It was strange, to feel as close to a memory of him, as she had when he was alive but rarely stirring from his book room. Perhaps one day, she would grieve more fiercely than she did now.

Elizabeth and Mary sat nearby with their husbands, and Catherine shamelessly eavesdropped while waiting for her own spouse to return to her side with the glass of punch he'd promised. "Mr. Evans, at Kympton, is hoping to retire soon, and has requested that we seek a successor."

Ten years of marriage had not made Mr. Darcy any more verbose or inclined to waste words than when he had first come to Hertfordshire. Catherine smiled to herself, and counted backward from five.

"You should not feel obligated, if you wish to stay at Swansea." Ten years of marriage had improved Lizzy's ability to understand what her husband meant, rather than what he said. "But if you find it... difficult to live near Mr. Collins..."

Mr. Collins had barely waited until after the funeral before he moved himself, Charlotte, and their two sons into Longbourn, and began to demonstrate how much he had taken the interfering guidance of his Esteemed (former) Patroness, The Honourable Lady Catherine de Burgh, to heart. Mary had expressed her frustration in her letters to her sisters, especially when Mr. Collins tried to ‘advise' Mr. McKnight on the contents of his sermons.

A living could not be revoked once it was gifted, but it was not unknown for a single churchman to have multiple livings, leaving the management of the additional ones to his curates. Mr. John Marshall did have a much higher tolerance for fools than Mary or Mr. McKnight did, and a sly sense of humour that would enjoy running Mr. Collins in circles.

Mary looked at her husband. "It will be a shame to leave the school behind, but it is only a building. We will consider your generous offer."

Catherine might have listened further, but her own husband was approaching, with one of Chloe's visiting guest lecturers on Chemistry in tow. "My dear, you must hear what Mr. Berzelius has been telling me of his experiments!"

The unfamiliar gentleman, presumably Mr. Berzelius, bowed. "Lady Longbottom, it is an honour. I have heard a great deal about your inventions, and requested an introduction."

Catherine did not think that she would ever tire of hearing such statements, even if she lived to be over a hundred years. She rose, curtsied, and accepted the glass of punch. "The pleasure is mine. Please, sit, and tell me about what you have discovered."