by Leenie Brown
“So was Mr. Madoch?” There was a slight question to Darcy’s voice.
“Indeed,” said Jonathan. “He was here.”
Lady Sophia sighed at the look of confusion that still suffused her son’s face. She opened her mouth to explain but was interrupted by Jonathan.
“Allow me to help,” he said, pulling a well-travelled piece of newspaper from his pocket and handing it to Rycroft.
“Another announcement?” Rycroft questioned as he unfolded the paper, so he could see the full article. His eyes grew wide as he read, and his lips curled into a pleased smile.
“There will be another in two days time,” said Admiral Fitzwilliam. He pulled a letter from his pocket. “I shall be sending this post haste, but perhaps you would care to hear it first.” He looked around at his eager audience, and hearing no objection, he began reading. “Married, February 8, 1812, at Gretna Green, Mr. Alexander Madoch of Brighton to Miss Anne de Bourgh, daughter of Lady Catherine de Bourgh of Rosings and niece of Lord Matlock.”
~*~*~*~
“We are going to Scotland?” Anne was positive that she had heard him correctly, but still the thought was so shocking that it demanded confirmation.
“I will not wait three weeks for banns to be read, nor will I spare the time or expense for a special license, so we will be married in Gretna Green by the end of the week.” Alex pulled her back against him. “Your things are securely fastened to the roof, as are mine.”
“And my maid?” asked Anne.
“Will not be needed.” Alex tightened his grip on her so that she could not jump away from him.
“We are not married,” she scolded as she settled back against his side after a brief struggle to free herself. To be quite honest, she was not entirely unhappy that her attempt at escape had been thwarted. She rather liked the feeling of being snuggled next to him.
“Ah, but we will be.” He grunted slightly when her elbow jabbed him in the side. “Very well, a maid can be secured at each stop.”
“And I shall have my own room?”
Alex sighed. “If you insist.”
“It is only proper.”
Alex laughed. “My dear, whatever is proper about advertising for a husband, announcing your selection in the paper, and then marrying at Gretna Green?” He looked down at her upturned face and winked at her. “However, if it is what you want, then you shall have it.”
She smiled and, to his delight, snuggled just a bit closer. “How did you manage all this? The carriage, my things, everything.”
He chuckled. “I did not manage any of it. It seems Lady Sophia and the admiral, along with Mr. Lester, have conspired to see us happy.” He squeezed her close. “You are happy, are you not?”
She nodded. “Very. And you?”
“I am.”
She tilted her face to look up at him and brought the hand which was not pinned against his side up to rest on his cheek. “I love you, Alexander Madoch. I always have, and I always will.”
He leaned toward her as if to kiss her but stopped just short of her lips. “Tell me again why you chose me.”
She smiled and shook her head. “I did not choose you. My heart did.”
No answer could have satisfied him more. His quest to secure her love was complete and the challenge to keep it had begun. He kissed her lightly and then, ignoring her protest, lifted her onto his lap and kissed her more fully. As she wrapped her arms around his neck and ran her fingers through the hair that curled above his collar and as the carriage bounced and swayed on its journey, he knew that, no matter the trials that lay ahead, no matter the disagreements that were sure to arise, he could and would find solace in the knowledge that he was and always would be her heart’s choice.
Epilogue
Dear Reader,
Happiness is not guaranteed. Indeed, it can be a right fickle emotion. One might find happiness only to have it removed, or one might find contentment which grows into a happiness of unexplainable measures. It might elude the most deserving, or it might grace one who ill deserves it. Just as it might wax and wane in life, so too it may shift in the land of stories, guided, of course, by the pen of an author who, though following closely the personality of her characters, grants or refuses happiness to one and all.
The happiness or unhappiness of our players had developed in the following fashion:
We shall, of course, begin with the least deserving. Miss Ivison, as she is still called these five years after the close of our story, was never fortunate enough to find a gentleman willing to accept her — despite her fifteen thousand. However, that does not mean she went without notice to those seeking a lady willing to press the edges of propriety in an attempt to lure a partner. And so, she lives in a small house near her father’s estate with few friends and a daughter, who will never be fully accepted into polite society, no matter the fact that her father held a title. Ah, it is a sad tale for the young child to be sure, for her mother was to wed the man until, at about the same time that his penchant for cheating while playing with His Highness was discovered, his love of life began to outweigh his love of her dowry, and he skulked off one night to begin a life of travel. What became of him, no one truly knows, though small stories have occasionally surfaced now and again. None of these stories were flattering, however, but such is the life of a scoundrel.
Miss Pearce fared much better after the day she walked away from Miss Ivison in the museum. She found a pleasant gentleman with whom she could live comfortably and grew to love him dearly.
Miss Bingley was fortunate indeed. She has one son approaching his first birthday and another child to arrive in the summer ,as well as a husband who keeps himself occupied with his estate when needed and escorts her to social events throughout the season. She would tell you her life is perfect, but it’s not. Having had her faith in friends severely shaken by Miss Ivison, she has few that she has allowed to become close, and so, she finds herself on occasion feeling quite lonely. Her husband has been a source of good fortune, for though he married her to gain his father’s approval, he has come to care for her, and despite everyone’s expectations that he would once again take up with a mistress, he has not. Whether that is due to his care for his wife and children or a fear of reprisals from his father or Mr. Bingley and his group of powerful friends and relations, it is hard to say, but no matter the reason, he has remained faithful.
Lord Brownlow has yet to choose a bride and fulfill his duty to his title, but a lovely lady from Hertfordshire, herself rather advanced in her years, has caught his eye. Should he not declare himself soon, Mrs. Darcy, the lady’s particular friend, along with her husband and cousin, Lord Rycroft, has planned a soiree for Charlotte’s birthday at the end of the month, and her father has agreed to aid in whatever scheme they might employ to speed the happy conclusion of marriage between the two.
Mr. Collins, who was thwarted in his attempt to mend bridges through marrying a cousin, has found himself in possession of his inheritance while Mr. Bennet yet lives. He has taken up residence at Longbourn where he finds himself called on regularly by Mrs. Long and her daughters as well as Miss Mary King, who was returned to Hertfordshire not long after the departure of the militia, and her mother. However, unless one mother or the other soon makes mention of their purpose in calling, it may be quite some time before he comes to the conclusion himself, and the entail upon Longbourn might indeed be in danger of dying with him.
Mr. Bennet, though he still lives under a heavy shadow of ill health, has at the insistence of his daughters and sons, taken up residence in Bath. He has, since arriving with much complaining in his handsome new home, found the waters to be to his liking nearly as much as the library which Mr. and Mrs. Darcy had fitted for him.
Mrs. Bennet has discovered that Bath is near perfection for entertaining and being entertained, and, much to her husband’s delight, spends a good deal of time in the company of new friends — and not in his library. The grandeur of the home plays significantly on her hap
piness.
“It is like a dream,” she often comments. “So large, we have to close off a wing when we are by ourselves. We quite rattle around in all that space when we do not have visitors.” And then she smiles and adds, “My sons are quite wealthy you know, and such dears to see to our care as they have.”
But do not fret, the Bennets are rarely lonely or given a lengthy period of time in which to rattle around, for at least twice a year, each of their daughters, with family in tow, come for a visit. And on many occasions, there is more than just one daughter in residence, as is the case at present. This May, the Bennets’ home is filled to capacity as sisters and cousins and children and aunts and uncles and friends have gathered to celebrate both the birthday of the man to whom so many of them owe their happiness and the marriage of the last Bennet daughter.
~*~*~*~
“It is quite the happy lot assembled,” said Sir William as he settled into a chair near Mr. Bennet at the far end of the drawing room.
“That it is,” Mr. Bennet agreed.
“Papa!” A dark haired child, with a rather serious look on his face and a tear on his cheek, darted across to the room to Darcy. In one hand he held a book and in the other a page of that book. “Cousin Elinor ruined my book.”
Darcy sighed and scooped his son onto his lap as Anne bit back a giggle and Alex, with a shake of his head, rose to go find his daughter, who was altogether too much like her mother.
“It was not nice,” Darcy agreed with his son attempting to stop a protracted lecture from beginning in earnest. “One must treat books with care. However, we must also learn to forgive those who treat us ill.”
Lucas scrunched up his face into a scowl, his lower lip protruding in displeasure. “She ruined my book,” he grumbled.
“I take it you did not forgive her?” asked his father.
Lucas shook his head.
“He pulled her hair,” added Michael, the eldest of Rycroft’s three boys. “And then she threw a block at Amelia and hit her right on her head.” He pointed to the right side of his head above his ear where the second youngest of the Bingley girls had been hit. “Amelia cried, of course.” He rolled his eyes. “And then Elinor’s papa came, but she is hiding.” He smiled. “He’ll not find her.” There was a hint of pride in his voice. “Fredrick helped her hide, and he is almost as good as me at hiding.”
Rycroft snapped his fingers and motioned for Michael to come stand before him. “Where has your brother hidden your cousin?”
Michael’s shoulders lifted and fell. “I do not know. They ran out of the nursery, and I did not follow them. I followed Lucas.”
“You are certain you do not know?”
Michael shook his head, causing his sandy coloured curls to bounce.
“Were there any other mishaps of which we,” he motioned around the group of adults, “should know?”
Michael tilted his head to the side and thought for a moment. “The babies are sleeping,” he said holding up three fingers to indicate his youngest brother, the Bingleys’ youngest daughter, and Kitty’s son. “The girls are drawing flowers.” Three more fingers popped up. One for Lucas’ sister and the other two for the remaining Bingley children. “And Theodore is building a castle with blocks, although he is rather angry at Elinor for interfering with his plans. I think he might send her to the tower.”
Richard sighed. “You will tell me if he does send her to the tower, so that I might free her?” he asked his nephew.
Michael smiled and bobbed his head up and down.
“Immediately,” said Rycroft. The smile faded from his son’s face, and reluctantly, he agreed. “Very well, then, you are dismissed, young man.” Rycroft scruffed up the child’s hair and winked at him. “You have done your mother proud with your tale bearing.”
Lady Rycroft coughed softly.
Rycroft merely smiled at her, enjoying how her left brow raised, and her lips pursed so sweetly as if asking to be kissed.
“A lively lot,” chuckled the admiral, who was also seated with Mr. Bennet and Sir William. “But, I would expect no less, considering their parents.”
“Indeed,” said Mr. Bennet with a twinkle in his eye. “Despite their quirks, they are all quite perfect.”
“They are,” agreed the admiral. “And I am sure that the Lesters and Endicotts will be adding to the number in due time.”
“The gentlemen arrive tomorrow, and my wife is beside herself with excitement,” said Mr. Bennet. “The other wedding breakfasts were all at Netherfield, so it is the first she will have the pleasure of hosting in our home.” He shook his head. “Add to that the fact that Lydia is sharing her day with Georgiana, and you can imagine the delight which has effused from her on a daily basis for the past month and a fortnight.”
Sir William chuckled.
“It is well within her right to be excited as her final daughter will be happily situated,” added Mr. Bennet with a smile. In truth, he could not fault his wife for her excitement as he shared it with her. Each of his daughters would be married and happily so. Not one had married for convenience. They each had found a love match of good character and financial standing.
“My sister is just as delighted to see her last niece happy,” added the admiral. “I had feared it would not happen, but it has, thanks to Darcy.”
~*~*~*~
It had been a long two seasons for Georgiana. She had found her heart quite gone before the first had even begun. A gentleman had unwittingly captured her fancy at a brief meeting over a meal at Rycroft Place five years ago, but not being out, she pined secretly for him until just before her debut when she spoke of it to her aunt. From there, strategies were made, house parties planned, soirees attended, all with the intent of securing her happiness with the gentleman. It was not easily done, however, as the gentleman attended social events only sporadically. Finally, after Georgiana had refused the fifth offer of marriage from as many eligible gentlemen, Darcy was made aware of the desires his sister’s heart. A rather direct letter to the gentleman later, and Mr. Lester appeared at Darcy House to court the young woman, whom he had found fascinating but feared was too far above him.
Lydia’s story had been less filled with longing. She had happily made her debut under the watchful eye of Mrs. Darcy and Mrs. Bingley and had been called on by several gentlemen, yet none truly captured her heart. She spoke of it often to a particular gentleman with whom she often found herself thrown together since he was Rycroft’s friend. And he, in turn, spoke to her of his reluctance to marry for anything less than the deepest of affection. Their friendship grew and then quite unexpectedly shifted to something more, and now, Lydia found herself betrothed to her friend, the one man at whom she never batted an eyelash and with whom she had never acted a part.
So it was that a week later, both young ladies stood in this very drawing room repeating their vows and tying their hearts forever to the men whom they loved.
~*~*~*~
“I have a gift for my lovely bride,” said Jonathan, rising and drawing the attention from the rest of the wedding guests. He extended a hand to Georgiana and helped her to stand. Then he took a small pouch from his pocket. “It is a symbol of love. As the pearl is locked away within this heart never to be removed, so your love is woven deeply into the fabric of my very being, never to be removed.” He stepped behind her and fastened the necklace around her neck. “It belonged to my grandfather,” he explained.
“It is lovely.” Georgiana sighed as she held up the golden heart, woven in such a fashion as to look like it was a delicate cage for the pearl locked inside.
Mrs. Bennet’s eyes grew wide at the sight of it. “It looks just like the one my father showed me,” she whispered to Lady Lucas, who was on her left.
“The very same,” Lady Lucas replied. “Mr. Lester’s father came to work for Sir William’s brother, and his father, Mr. Lester’s grandfather, left that necklace as an inheritance to his son. It seems it has now been passed down to the grandson.” She
sighed. “And such a story behind it.”
“Indeed,” said Mrs. Bennet. She smiled at her friend and grasped Lady Lucas’ arm excitedly. “Passed down to the grandson, who has now given it to the granddaughter of Lady Matlock.” She whispered but so excitedly that it was not as soft as it should have been. Thankfully, all who were gathered were family.
Lady Sophia nodded and smiled at Mrs. Bennet’s comment. “Finally, the second necklace has come home,” she said looking at her brother.
Several pairs of questioning eyes turned towards her as she dashed a tear from her cheek. “There is a story,” she began, “A story of choices and unequal marriages and eventual happily ever afters,” she held up a cautionary finger. “However, it must remain within our family…”
Acknowledgements
There are many who have had a part in the creation of this series. Some have read and commented on it. Some have proofread for grammatical errors and plot holes. Others have not even read the story (and a few, I know, will never read it), but their encouragement and belief in my ability, as well as their patience when I became cranky or when supper was late or the groceries ran low, was invaluable.
And so, I would like to say thank you to Zoe, Rose, Betty, Kristine, Ben, and Kyle, as well as my faithful readers on my blog and at darcyandlizzy.com. To all of you, your help, support, and understanding are greatly appreciated.
I have not listed my dear husband in the above group because to me he deserves his own special thank you, for without his somewhat pushy insistence that I begin share my writing, none of my writing goals and dreams would have been met.
Other Books by Leenie Brown
Oxford Cottage
Elizabeth Bennet expects to complete the challenge her father has set before her at Oxford Cottage. What she does not expect is to meet a handsome stranger and fall in love, nor does she expect to find herself in a situation where she will have to keep both herself and her young companion safe.